WOMAN'S PAGE
SUNNY SEVILLE, August 16.
My Dears, — Do you know how a Spanish woman spends her day? I’ve had some most intimate glimpses of the average Spanish household, and I appreciate their national customs in dress and cooking—but let me tell you all about them—they 're really interesting. The Spanish woman is much more domesticated than you imagine. Her house, her children, her kitchen and her toilette occupy most of her time, and in whatever position in society she moves she supervises these matters herself. One of the best-known women in Seville, who entertains a great deal, thinks it a matter of course to put on a thick black mantilla in the morning and accompany her cook to market, where she herself chooses everything for the day. The Spanish woman begins her day early, for although everyone goes to bed very late, there is always the siesta in the afternoon, so an early morning start is the rule. Boys are got off to school, governesses arrive for the girls, the man of the house departs to his business or club, and the woman is free to begin her day. This generally starts with a discussion with her cook, after which the two—mistress and maid —go out together to the market, where the necessities of the day are bought. The cook takes them home and the mistress goes on, often to a short Mass (for the well-brought-up woman in Spain hears Mass every day) and then on to her dressmakers, milliners, to watch her children being instructed in tennis or dancing or possibly to see some friends. Many visits are paid in Spain in the morning; those of either condolence or congratulation are always paid before noon.
In Spain women devote a great deal of time and attention to their children, especially to their daughters; the sons go early to school, but the little girl seldom leaves her mother’s side except when with her governess.
The children of the house invariably take their meals with their parents; there-is no nursery as we understand it, for any child over three years old, and one of the strangest things to a foreigner is to see how late the children are kept up at nights. No bed at seven o’clock in the evenings for them! One sees them constantly—tiny mites of six or seven years old—dining with their parents at a restaurant at nine-thirty at night, poor pale-faced little people, looking very tired but quite indignant if anyone suggests they should go to bed. I often wondered how these pallid children grow up into such handsome, healthy women, but I was told that the universal custom of the siesta was the reason. Everyone, without exception, sleeps for one or two hours in the afternoon. The afternoon may start at four o'clock, for many families never lunch before two, but two hours' sleep is de rigueur for women and children. Dinner is horribly late —nine, nine-thirty and even ten o’clock are quite usual hours in the big towns, and most theatres start at only ten-thirty or eleven. I remember last year listening to “Carmen” in the Madrid Opera House one very hot summer night, when the last act began at a quarter to two in the morning, and no one seemed to think it unusual.
The evening is the time when the Spanish woman expects to enjoy herself. She calls it “evening”—we call it night—but night in Spain means “when you go to bed,” even if it be four o’clock in the morning! Her husband returns from his business or his club about eight o’clock and takes his wife and his daughter to dine at some restaurant, or to the opera, or to a concert. In summer all the parks and public gardens have openair restaurants, and the meal is very enjoyable in the cool of the evening
'Carmel leroy T/i/Puled
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after the intense mid-day heat. There is usually a good band, and sometimes one sees gipsies dancing. The Spanish woman takes very little exercise; she seems quite content to watch others dancing, seldom caring to dance herself.
The women of Spain sit remarkably still; they never fidget or seem restless. Of course, there is the ceaseless movement of the fan, which never stops, but otherwise I have watched women sitting at their husbands’ sides apparently motionless for hours at a stretch. Even when speaking they have a strange manner of turning their eyes and looking at you without moving their heads at all. At a bull fight, however, all this is changed, and animation is the rule. Both men and women betray great interest then; their usually immobile faces light up and become the glass of their emotions. No Spaniard bothers to control bis face at a bull fight—he is watching too keenly.
There are no women’s clubs in Spain and few women play cards. In the south no women are seen in the streets after noon, and even in the north few Spanish women leave their houses between the hours of two and seven, and then never alone. If a woman has no female relative living with her, such as a mother, mother-in-law, or sister, and her husband is engaged in business, she has rather a dull time, for she cannot be seen in the streets alone. If she is obliged to go out for some commission, she takes her servant with her. When I first realised this, I could scarcely believe it. It amazed me to learn that my special freind, Dona Ysabel, had never in her life been out of her house alone. As a tiny child, a nurse always went with her; as a girl, a governess or her mother; later on, her sister on her husband—a maid if nobody else was available. So it was actually a treat, an adventure for her to go out with me, and we made the most delightful expeditions together. There is a tremendous vogue for beauty culture amongst the women in Spain, but it is of an entirely different type from ours. The Spanish woman from long training uses as little water as possible—she believes it bad for the skin. On her face she uses pure olive oil, which gives that soft creamy skin so admired in Spain, and entirely prevents freckles. Dona Ysabel told me that the air of Spain was much too dry to use water. “Your skin will crack if you wash it here,” she said; “oil is much better, it softens it and preserves it in the great heat, and also feeds it and prevents wrinkles.” She almost fainted with horror when I suggested washing my hair. “AVash your beautiful hair!” she cried out. “How terribly bad for it! I should as soon think of washing my satin gown! ’ ’
armel
FASHION SAYS FLOAVERS. Flowers have made a riotous reappearance for summer evening wear at Home. They are made of tulle, or chiffon, or the fine cotton material of the gown, or even of feathers, giving the effect of a feather boa (states an English writer). Flowers of the same material as the gown border the decollette back and front of an evening frock. They are large in front and graduated to tiny blossoms at the back. Sometimes just onehalf of the decollette is so outlined, the other half being edged with a soft twist of the stuff that falls in a floating end behind. A soft plaque of flowers in a contrasting shade forms the front of the belt to a very simple evening gown. The evening scarf says it in flowers this summer. Six large red carnations in tube arc at-
tached to wide floating strands of tulle whcih tie round the throat in a large bow, the ends floating. A tri- . angular scarf is held loosely about the shoulders by a set of three large flowers of the same tissue. A knot of chiffon flowers falling over one shoulder is balanced by a floating end of the same chiffon behind. An evening frock with a shoulder strap decollette has one strap formed completely of flowers. A velvet evening cloak had a high collar made entirely of extravagant velvet flowers. Long tulle gloves have a bracelet of tulle buds at the wrist and another at the elbow. Short gloves in 1 ‘ fishnet ’ ’ silk have a wristlet of wide-petalled flowers. Even the plain evening glove is finished by a circlet of flowers to hold it snug to the upper arm, or a hare arm has a band of brilliant colored flowers instead of a jewelled bracelet. NECKLACES AND BELTS. It is very popular at Home to wear three strings of medium-sized pearls. But each string is in a different tone and each slightly longer than its predecessor (writes a Londoner). For instance, the first one will be cream, the next one beige, and the third brown. Alternately you can wear one cream and the other two different tones of smoked grey. Another fad is to have evening neck-lace and waist-belt to match. The newest ones are made of plain white taffeta cut into simple shapes and sewn closely with silver sequins in patterns. These are extraordinarily light and lie flat against the neck and round the waist. For those who do not like the girlish garlands of flowers this is ideal. Hats are made to match coats and frocks in many cases. One famous designer is showing simple hats and berets in printed crepe de chine which are stitched. HAVE YOU TRIED THESE? Stewed Figs.—Take 12 figs, two cups water, one cup sugar, lump of preserved ginger and tablespoon lemon juice. Place all in a saucepan and bring to the boil, then stand back and let simmer for one hour, turn into a glass dish to cool, and when cold serve with junket. Pineapple Cream. —Shred finely the flesh of a small, sweet pineapple; soak foz. of best gelatine in three tablespoons water, then stir in a saucepan over the fire till quite melted (it must not boil), add 2oz. sugar and the juice of half a lemon; strain into pineapple. AVhisk half a pint of cream to a stiff froth, add lightly to the other ingredients, and stir. Pour into a well-scalded mould which has been rinsed out with cold water, and allow to set. Nuttet Sea Foam.—Place in a saucepan two cups of brown sugar, one cup of granulated sugar, half a cup of golden syrup, half a cup of water. Boil until it forms a firm ball when tested in cold water. Beat the whites of two eggs until very frothy, then fold into the first mixture, to which one teaspoon of vanilla has been added. Let all stand a few moments, then beat until light and foamy. When mixture begins to stiffen add one cup of chopped nutmeats. Butter a paper thoroughly then drop the mixture on to it by spoonfuls. AVhen cool and firm dip in melted milk chocolate. They are also very palatable when eaten plain. Granny Cakes.—One pound of flour, 2oz. ground rice, two eggs, 4oz. sugar, Jib. of butter, essence to flavor. Beat the butter to a cream, working in by degrees the sugar and eggs, and then the flour and rice, until it is a stiff paste; knead till smooth; sprinkle the board with sugar, roll out rather thin and stamp into rounds. Bake a pale brown in a moderate oven.
Bacon Salad.—Spread water biscuits with seasoned butter. Fry lean bacon, cut thick, very crisp, and drain it thoroughly. Boil eggs hard, and peel them. Chop the bacon and eggs in fine dice, mixing them well together with mayonnaise or salad cream. Sprinkle finely chopped parsley or watercress over them, after piling them on the biscuits. Chocolate Tea Buns.—lOoz. flour, 2oz. cocoa, soz. margarine, 6oz. castor sugar, three-quarter teaspoonful of baking powder, one egg, milk, jam. Rub the margarine into the flour. Add the sugar, cocoa, and baking powder and mix all together. Beat up the egg- and add to the dry ingredients, with a little milk as required, and mix all to rather a stiff paste. Turn on to a pastry board, and roll out one-eighth of an inch thick, and cut into rounds about three inches in diameter. Turn them on to the other side, and put a little jam in the centre of each. Damp the edge, draw 7 to the middle, and squeeze together, making a round shape. Turn over, and mark two lines on each bun. forming a cross—do this with the back of a knife. Place on a bakingsheet, leaving a space between each, brush over with milk, and bake in a hot oven for about 10 to 15 minutes.
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Waipawa Mail, Volume LIII, Issue 149, 12 September 1932, Page 4
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2,123WOMAN'S PAGE Waipawa Mail, Volume LIII, Issue 149, 12 September 1932, Page 4
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