MAYFAIR JOTTINGS.

Star (Christchurch), Volume XLIV, Issue 579, 8 October 1932, Page 20 (Supplement)

MAYFAIR JOTTINGS.

Perennial Youth of English Queens. A SHY HEROINE. (From Our London Lady Correspondent.) What struck me most at the unveiling of the Queen Alexandra Memorial was the amazing clearness of the King’s voice. Though I was standing more than a hundred yards away, every word sould be clearly heard. With far more clearness, indeed, than in the more restricted space of the House of Lords when His Majesty speaks from the throne. There Was no mistaking the keen interest taken in the occasion. Literally everyone seemed to be there. I noticed Mr. Stanley Baldwin and his wife, the Duke and Duchess of Devonshire, the Duke of Rutland, the Earl of Crawford, and a host of others. It was a happy thought to let the unveiling coincide with Alexandra Day. Whereever you went in the West End, or, indeed, anywhere in London, pretty girls were selling the tiny pink blooms. As everyone you met seemed to be wearing one, the hospitals should gain benefit substantially by the collection. A ROYAL SECRET. The secret of perennial youth seems to belong to our English queens. The late Queen Alexandra retained her slim figure and youthful vivacity of movement, despite deafness, till the very last. At the Duke of York’s marriage, not very long before her demise, she looked no more than middle-aged, and poked the best man in the ribs of his Guard’s tunic with her umbrella as gaijy as anything. Even the Abbey could not subdue her animation. Queen Mary, who has now announced that she has given up dancing, certainly does not look 05. Any close observer would put Her Majesty down at being not a day more than the early fifties at most. That is the more remarkable since Queen Mary never follows the extremes of modern fashion, but retains still just a touch of the Victorian style. CLOAKS FOR MEN. Cloaks are definitely coming into fashion for men’s evening wear. The Prince of Wales has not yet set his seal upon them, but the King has worn one more than once when visiting the theatres recently. They are not. the long, heavy cloaks of the Inverness variety, but much lighter in weight, black in colour, and invariably lined with silk or satin. They arc worn rather after the fashion of the magnificent crimson cloaks which Italian officers set off to such advantage when they go for a stroll through the streets of Rome or Naples. The tailors recommend them as ideal wear for summer evenings, since they fit much more loosely to ~U»e body than the normal overcoat. A DUCHESS’ SKETCHES. It was a happy thought of Violet, Duchess of Rutland, to put on view a collection of her latest drawings to help the various charitable works on which she is engaged. Her own charming little house in Chapel Street was not large enough for the purpose, but the Duke of Westminster lent his nearby residence for the purpose. The drawings include many studies of actors and actresses made in “The Miracle,” at the Lyceum. Many of them were made in the dressing rooms, and though they bear the imprint of rapid work, some of them are quite extraordinarily true to life. It is characteristic of the Duchess that she should have accorded a place of honour in the collection to a work, not by herself, but by Marjorie Weatherstone —a painting of the Duchess’ own drawing room in Chapel Street. The painting was submitted to the Royal Academy, but was rejected—mainly, I imagine, because the subject does not lend itself readily to treatment on canvas. SHY HEROINE. I take tea, when I am in town, at a quiet little teasliop, near Temple Bar. It is a restful place, run and staffed by ladies with cookery diplomas and no lipsticks, and is a great rendezvous for lawyers, literary folks and journalists. To-day 1 noticed taking tea there a good-looking, slim, young woman, whose features seemed somehow familiar. It was difficult to make sure, because she kept her head down, as though avoiding recognition, and the light was not good. But when she came to settle her bill and leave. I had no difficulty -at all in recognising Miss Amy Johnson, though nobody else appeared to recognise her. What interested me particularly, in view of her engagement to Mr. Mollison, was the beautiful diamond ring glittering on her left hand. COQUETTISM ’ What an amazing difference a hat can jiake to a woman —1 mean to her actual looks, and not merely to her psychological aura. A day or two ago I saw some Salvation Army lassies, and was struck at once by the improvement in their appearance due to the absence of that Victorian abomination, the coalscuttle hat. I do not know whether the chic little narrow-brimmed straws these Salvation Army lassie-s were sporting are regulation or general, but they certainly give their wearers a more attractive appearance than the old ones. Perhaps the great General Booth might have thought the modern hat a little too coquettish; but it would have been a terrible handicap if, in these days of democratised fashions, £he Salvation Army still condemned its sisters to hide tlieir good looks under a coal-scuttle bonnet. Even Edna May could hardly stand that drastic test.