LONDON AND PARIS FASHIONS.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XVI, Issue II, 11 January 1896, Page 45

LONDON AND PARIS FASHIONS.

ESPITE all the hats I have given you, I have yet other varieties to chronicle. The one sketched is a lovely combination of white rice straw, white dove, pink roses, white ribbon band, and small pink flowers shaded to white, white veil spotted with black. The tale of fashion, it wonld seem, has only three heroes—chine silk, alnara. and aracc lawn

siik, alpaca, ana grass lawn. After all, it is a goodly number, and it is terribly difficult for any woman to make up her mind which she really desires. The only safe way of making a choice is to selects gown of each, rather an expensive programme in these extravagant days.

Never were there so many and so great a variety of blouses as one sees just now in the streets, the park, at the races, theatres, and garden parties, without mentioning other social functions that crop up by the hundreds. For a public thoroughfare, unless the wearer be blessed with a carriage, sincere approval can hardly be given to over-smart corsages, such as, for instance, white satin or tulle ones, that are really more fitted for exclusive indoor or evening wear. In the house, Mademoiselle's sartorial fancy may, however, safely run riot as regards her blouses, and the more fantastical and complicated they are the more certain are they of being successful. Let her revel in the delights of sequins, spangles, rich shot silks, lusciously toned velvets and soft creamy lawns and laces, Here is a perfect blouse designed on novel lines, and in

such a style as to suggest a corselet worn separately, although in reality this new confection is planned all in one, thus simplifying the tedious process of dressing—a daily worry when my lady has no maid at her beck and call. The’pleated chemisette and artistically set sleeves —enorm >us to the elbow —are in a soft French surah woven with orange and creamy pink silks that, thus intermixed. shoot forth the most wonderful glace effects. Dark cornflower blue velveteen, embroidered withcopper sequins, forms the closely-fitting corselet, the round collar and the front piece that, looking rather like a man’s tie in shape, joins the two and adds an air of completion. One more word in praise of the make of this corselet blouse. It fastens deftly and invisibly down the front, thus saving the wearer from the inconvenience of a bodice that closes at the back or at the side.

In Fig. 3, an up to-date bathing dress of the latest pattern is illustrated, which, besides looking well, will be found comfortable, and most easy to put on and off, the latter being a highly important feature as all bathers well know. Navy serge is the material which continues

to hold its own against all new comers for this purpose, and composes the costume in question. The knickers and jacket are separate. The jacket is made with cape

sleeves just over the shoulders, a broad square collar, and the front fastened by * fly ’ buttons and holes ; the bodice and skirt portion being gathered r»foa waistband, as making less complication than fastening a separate band over after putting jacket on, an arrangement which also compels the whole to keep in order. The whole is trimmed with broad white braid, and the hair is protected by a tasteful oil-skin cap. ♦♦♦ « ♦ • Strangely enough one does not see half the number o ! cottons worn as some few years ago. And yet the materials destined for the crisp and starched washing dress, over which lady novelists stupidly rave (forgetting the poor heroine has to pay a heavy laundress’s bill: are becoming more and more tempting every season. There are faintly tinted batiste crepons, powdered with dots or hazy sprigs of flowers, honeycombed cottons, and last, but not least, a novel material of washable quality, in the making of which silk and flax are interwoven. This new fabric bids fair to become rather popular as the season advances. It makes up into the daintiest of garden-party toilettes. Some of the very best people, who abjure the craze for blue and indulge in soft undecided shades, still favour mauve in all its varied tones : white-pink is voted first rate form. A little gown that attracted immense admiration at a ‘ Drawing Room ’ tea was made of heliotrope poplin-cloth, a material that lends itself to supremely delightful folds and draperies. The skirt, which stood out behind in a trio of immense pleats, securely stiffened, was rather out of the ordinary run of severely simple jupes. In front were three handsome jet-bead pendants, headed by black tulle rosettes. The full baby-bodice bagged over a plain belt of black satin. The same sheeny material formed at the back—a

quaint little rounded cape that developed into a moder-ate-sized Medici collar, and a fingering of ribbon enclosed the sweetest thing in cream mull muslin plastrons. With some more tulle and jet about the shoulders, this frock distinguished itself as teing something that nobody but a thorough gentlewoman would think of wearing. Perhaps it may be interesting to know that the girl who donned this particular toilette completed the charming effect of her gown by carrying a black satin parasol lined with billowy flounces Of cream lace. Sunshades designed on these lines are rfe mode, for we are beginning to understand that the face requires some-

thing rather soft in the way of a shelter from the ravs o the sun. At a good many of the fashionable functions women have been wearing the new shot silk capes already so popular across the channel. Hardly reaching below the elbows, these essentially smart mantles are composed of a series of full narrow frills daintily pinked out. A rather dowdy black gown is quite redeemed by one of these charming confections. My last sketch is a pretty evening frock. It has a low round bodice, and wide skirt in shrimp pink satin, enhanced with a torsade of satin ribbon, spaced with

rosette bows. Large windmill bow and collarette to match. A band of spangled net frames the square opening of the bodice, meanwhile forming a heading to the epaulettes in ivory Venetian lace. Hei.oise.