In France One Seriously "Views the (Complexion

Ladies' Mirror, Volume 4, Issue 8, 1 February 1926, Page 43

In France One Seriously "Views the (Complexion

<£y “AN ENGLISHWOMAN”

T TNTIL I came to Paris I never took the slightest interest in the theory of the care of the face. Pretty dresses and a clean-cut silhouette were always things to strive for, in my philosophy, but hair and skin, for me, remained in their natural state. Then all of this talk about beauty that goes on round me here in Paris, the interest that the Americans coming over here take in the subject, and above all, the wish to transmit the best and most accurate information about it in

this article, turned my attention very much on my looks, and I took to trying out some of the remedies; I took to doing a little laboratory work, so to speak, on myself. I thought I would devote most of the space of this article to telling you what I accepted and discarded out of the many doctrines of the foreign people that I live among. Perhaps what is good for me will be good for others of my race. First of all, I like Madame Franqois’ treatments very much. The recipe has been printed, but will bear repeating as the best combination of tonic and cleanser that a dry country can provide. The preparation consists of equal parts of rose water and extract of lavender, with an additional touch of vervain, camomile and orange flowers. An excellent method of application is to vaporise it and let the steam touch the skin. Of course after such a treatment one should dash the face with cold water.

’ | 'HE French are enthusiastic-over the vapour bath for the face. I

think it is excellent. But didn't we use to make it from water alone? Didn’t we go out to the kitchen at bedtime and set the tea kettle to going? When it began to sing didn’t we sit down in front of it, place our faces above the spout, throw a blue gingham apron over our heads, and let the vapour do what it would to our wrinkles ? Sometimes we did our hair up in curl papers first, because the moisture was supposed to “set” the curl. I think it does, but as for its effect on our faces, we omitted

the ingredients that get the results, The French, as I have mentioned, put the juices of certain plants into the liquid with which they vapourize the face, and these are what get the results. Rose water is the principal ingredient. But certain tonic effects come with the mere business of cleansing one’s face and neck for the night. Perhaps not enough emphasis in the past has been placed on keeping just the right amount of oil in the skin. Ccrtainly we do not want so much that it comes out in the form of grease, and not such a little bit that it fails to keep our skin from crinkling up into permanent wrinkles. I think more people are troubled with a skin that is too dry rather than with the contrary difficulty. Neither affliction, apparently, is popularly regarded as worthy of any but the most superficial attention day by day, and then merely in connection with attending to one’s appearance for the moment, If our skin is too greasy we keep

constantly rubbing powder over it. If it is too dry we are likely to do nothing, except boast about it a little. “I have a very dry skin,” someone says, as if this were a virtue or a sign of aristocratic blood. And yet did you know that it is more susceptible to wrinkles at an early age than one which is too greasy? I should always keep the skin under the eyes and round the chin well lubricated. Olive oil is good

for the purpose when rubbed in well. In general, vegetable fats are better than those of animals. Sometimes it is difficult to coax the dry pores to accept grease. They throw it off in the form of pimples. At night, after completing the toilet for the face, if it still seems dry and little rays of wrinkles radiate from the eyes I should give them an application of one lotion more. I should rub my hands with their nightly application of rose water and glycerine, dedicating a liberal amount for the purpose, and while it was still wet on the palms I should rub them over the face. In doing so one lubricates the skin without running the risk of giving it something which it cannot absorb. This application, sparingly applied, will not produce pimples. There is no better lubricant than glycerine. If eruptions come when they cannot be accounted for in the record of the health, examine the skin food you are using, and the cleansing cream. Sometimes it is wise to omit them both for days at a time, depending only on the daily toilet of soap and water, followed by the witch-hazel

first, and then by a slight moistening with the rose water and glycerine, I used to have a horror of vanishing cream. I thought it made the face just sticky enough to catch and hold all of the dust of Fifth Avenue or Paris. As for make-up—if you are so worldly as to use any—l thought that it stood out as if it had been rubbed over marble if the face had first been treated with vanishing cream. At length the beauty

experts persuaded me that you could not have small pores if you let even the purest, finest of powder come directly against the face. I then invented a system for rubbing the skin first with vanishing cream and after this had dried—or vanished—wiped it with a smooth cloth. I then went over the ground again with a piece of cotton moistened in witch-hazel. By this simple process the pores are still protected from the enlarging influence of the powder because the cream is by no means all removed, and yet it is nullified to the extent that make-up does not have a starev effect when put on over it. The Question of ThfCassage MANY people ask if I believe in massage. I am afraid that I do not —any too enthusiastically. And I rather think that the French do not —at least, not indiscriminately. You must choose your masseuse, examine your skin, and altogether proceed most scientifically. Then I think that prac-

tically the greatest praise you can accord it is that it does no harm, rests the muscles and the body while it is going on, gives one, so to speak, a train of thought that is constructive. Of course if the massage is not performed exactly as it should be for the skin operated on, not all of the suggestion in the world can counteract the ill that comes from the scientific imperfection of the treatment. The great danger is that massage will be too frequent, rather than that it will be neglected. One of the controversies among beauty experts is over the degree of friction that is good for the face and the neck. Some of the high French authorities recommend rubbing—“frictioning,” as they call it—with a rough bath towel. Others, principally beauty experts without medical diplomas, advocate the gentlest, softest of wiping with a downy piece of cloth. I suppose the answer to this disagreement is, as usual, that both are right, and the skin itself must determine the question of what sort of drying cloth is best for it. If it is more or less toughened with the suns and winds of many years it can probably hold its own against the rougher treatment, will perhaps be stimulated by it and respond to it healthfully. The only way to discover is to try out the experiment. You get your answer, of course, in the reaction. Do not look for your final response, however, in the exultant glow of the moment following the treatment, but in the condition of the skin the morning after it has taken place. If the epidermis seems to be in a torpor that even a dash of cold water will not awaken, if the muscles are more relaxed instead of less so and the lower part of the face seems to droop instead of to lift, then a lively rubbing down has not been good for it. For my skin I prefer the threeminute frictioning that one can give with an ordinary face towel before it has been worn to an even smoothness, but after its new harshness is laundered away.

A ND .now for the mandate that is international and knows no frontiers. All of the races acknowledge it; all bow to it and abide by it who would have a long youth as well as a serene one. I refer to the gospel of rest and repose. Even the men of France observe it to an extent and do not indulge in the nervous frenzy which we call business enterprise. ■ln our country we deliberately invite people to call us up at the luncheon hour to hold business conversations. In France they for the most part decline to be summoned to the telephone through the luncheon two hours. Please accept my assurance that it has a marked effect on the national appearance. To state one phase of it on its positive side, the people of our country, taken as a whole, look far more strained and restless and older for their years than these French people that I live among. But it is the women with whom we are concerned, and the feminine part of the French population rests even more assiduously than the men. A French lady went over to America after the war to visit with her husband, who is a very rich and influential man in his country. The two were entertained in some of the most elegant and extravagantly conducted of our homes. When the couple came back they were all admiration for us in every particular except one, and for this the lady, in describing it, took on a complaining attitude, as if it were my fault entirely. “I aged ten years,” she lamented. “I will never get back what I lost. My youth, my youth—where is it? I left it in America. They made me get up for breakfast! And come downstairs! And converse! They made me meet the gentlemen. One cannot converse with the gentlemen in the morning and preserve any of the mystery or the romance for them. We went to bed always past midnight— at one, at two, at three! And always we ate the last thing. Then again in the morning, a heavy breakfast. My complexion—oh, my complexion!”