Hats Banked With Flowers.

New Zealand Graphic, Volume XLIII, Issue 12, 22 September 1909, Page 69

Hats Banked With Flowers.

Ask nine of ten women what millinery fashion they think the prettiest of all those that they remember, and they will probably concur in the opinion that when hats were worn with brims much turned up at the back and the hiatus filled in with flowers nothing was prettier than the appearance that headgear bore. Back amongst us have arrived hats decked with flowers in that way, hats with flat rounded crowns, and brims which at the back are turned up sharply to make room for a great bank of blossom. The rest of the model of this type requires very little trimming.* When a few loops of black ribbon velvet and long strings have been added to it, posed upon the summit of the crown, all the adornment that it required has been secured. In some instances a spray of blossoms, apparently escaping from the caehepeigne at the back, makes its way round the front of the crown of the hat, with an effect that is graceful. Field flowers are used in masses upon a crown, combined with wheat and grasses, and the colouring of the golden grain, the regal red poppies, the pale convolvuli, and blue forget-me-nots, is very summer-like above a Leghorn brim, which may be bound with gold velvet, or left unbound, as fancy will have it. In addition to a hat that answers to this description, there is a pretty one of Dresden blue straw, draped with palest yellow velvet, and plumed with feathers that rise from a topaz boss. The high-waisted skirt,/so fashionable last season, has gone, but the skirt reaching above the waist, corselet fashion, has not, and our summer tailor-mades will certainly show both bretelles and waist belts in the same colour, if not of the same material, as the skirt and coat. The

chemisettes worn with them will have long or three-quarter sleeves, and the daintiest of jabots and ruches. The difficulty of getting a well-fitting collar to an ordinary chemisette is still among our problems, and unless one has a maid or a seamstress who ean master this tiresome detail there is nothing for it but to go to a first-class maker of ladies’ shirts and to manage with one chemisette where otherwise two would have been preferred. A really good lace blouse is also an excellent investment, as it never goes out of fashion. For its wearing properties nothing beats Irish lace, and

if a fine design is chosen it is quite as becoming as a more delicate lace. Evening gowns promise many small novelties in the form of draperies and embroideries and blending of colours. I saw a beautiful gown the other day in ripe corn colour and young spring green. The ripe corn was expressed in soft crepe de chine, and the spring green in an embroidery of exquisite workmanship employed as an edging to a tunic which fell slightly full from a high waist. A touch of the same was on the corsage, and the long sleeves were in silver tulle. Another quite new model was in black net and a soft gold tissue, with a black thread in it. The full underskirt was black with gold embroidery round the feet, and the gold tunic was draped from the normal waist line on the left side, so that it fell in soft folds round the right side to be caught up again on the left. The corsage was blaek, with very light touches of gold embroidery, and there was some old lace about the decollete. lAmong the smaller novelties of the season are bead bags—not the ones we are used to seeing, with metal mounts, but regular old-fashioned bead sacks, which draw up into a narrow neck. I saw one the other day made in green beads, with a pattern of forget-me-nots worked into it. Another new and costly idea is the glove with from 14 to 18 buttons. Yet another extravagance of a fair dame in the Principality was to have her flower hats made of real flowers. Every morning her florist used to send for a shape, and trip it with violets, earnations, roses, mimosa, or with whatever his shop could best produce. One would not have been astonished had she sent it to the fruiterer’s one day to have it artistically covered with mandarins, cherries, and grapes. The prettiest, if not the latest, cry in sunshades is certainly the Japanese variety, and although my remarks of them may be a little premature, considering the weather we are having; yet I could not help noticing how charming they looked both in shape and colour—lovely blues and greens, and the most delicate of light embroidered silks. Contrary to general expectation, there have been no very great changes in fashion as far as hats and gowns are concerned. A notable change, however, has crept over the aspect of the coiffure, those women who made a eult of always moving in the front ranks of fashion having elected to wind their luxurious tresses, natural or artificial as the case may be, in turban fashion close to the head, a style evidently culled from late eight-eenth-century modes. That this disposal is trying in the extreme none will deny, but that may be partly because our eyes have not yet grown accustomed to the silhouette so diametrically opposed to the poufs and curls we have been asked to smile upon for so long. At present the general concensus of opinion is that it is sadly lacking in charm and elegance. In the evening this turban coiffure is further enhanced by a bandeau of ribbon, drawn closely around the head in front, and tied with a butterfly-bow a little to one side, a departure that forcibly recalls the pictures of Jack after his misadventure with Jill.