Newspaper Page Text
24
I—MAGAZINE SECTION
#* \/ *n °n * r /0) # <5 \
K/m/iIK nIITKP \ i
/ Z wH|l
|F ; J /z Zh t . <Z
V. ' Z ■ ■ \ ffl jy ff B J a
/> li fl ff /> ~-.fl it A
> // fl B If z>vj 51 fpfP! rs jM \ // f ry~\\ /sft /r’\i \
r /’/ ft Er fr■ ./ /J I* fi i f f'J 17 !i ft r f fl //Jf w\
p .v y I /if jiff // .s /j iff I1 /1 /-J // i/ i / 111 ~-' \\ I
'•• i
wn v
Ai $ “» £ 1 ’, S % T ADY DUFF-GORDON, the famous “Lucile ’of London, and
T. -1 A ' ■’“ c'' ■* Ip*’ •* | foremost creator of fashions in the world, writes each week the
F'-'xJljL Ss l -'v'i' 5 ,. .L £ ? <s. fashion article for this newspaper, presenting all that is newest
■K ’ ¥ TgjjftalbffiL » jm> ♦ ' • xtfr t*- A
IK ■ W'J®’ k <sl ’ n st y' Cß f° r well-dressed women.
W.iß* '■<• k* -«r i. ’ Lady Duff-Gordon’s new Paris establishment brings her into close
Mr v •''%« i ; . r r >■
KSr«&3t- ?lfc> Z*’" J ‘ ! W' / » •WMMfr A touch with that centre of fashion.
_.«. SSfr Lady Duff-Gordon’s American establishment at Nos. 37 and
West Fifty-seventh street. New York City
f / f
ft ■'p \ i /
'■ »lk » ' ’F
Wf Bw k
vi IM - -
% '• *. \. ? ■•■ Trtaifl® •
W WxA«k»'Jb >-. At-iIW-'Ww
y •tfe''feHMsi Mt,. 4sti ■*
F‘l\wAiWw
ffllpw
wiiy>L
Hi® W
* '•wwjoW''-wO
Wft * 'fc
Jn ’ 8
w ■ aw
HwsSw A’w'sa nHi
fl W!
.’ IMK ' '.ffl
'>' '/ ’ f ■ I PI * ”«w*
•i W W MU
BUS'-' 11 • l l w
if. iMMjw 7 '- • '■>• •if Vp®
if? ta
II fIK ' Billy
Jr
W,
By LADY DUFF GORDON (“Lucile”)
ONE of the most charming act
reeves for whom 1 have fur
nished wardrobes Is Mist
Billie Burke, the little cosmopolitan
who looks well in fashions of any
clime, or time.
Miss Burke has the ehic most de
sired by Fansiennes and all well
dressed women She has Titian hair,
blue eyes and fair, rosy skin that
lend themselves to nearly any color.
She is, indeed,* a most satisfactory
little person to dress, knowing at
she does what she wants, and being
amiability and gratitude themselves
when she gets them.
it was a pleasure to supply her
with the smart costume the wears
lu her latest success The Mina the
Faint' Giri." H< <
girlish afternoon costume fitch she
n— been wearing while she posed
for her latest portrait, is -of the
most attractive of her rubes, its
11; 98 are of the straight, shoulder
to hem sort, that give added girl
lehuess to a girlish figure, and sub
tract years from a matronly one.
Miss Burke makes hei entrance up
on the stage in h> r new play, in
ths gown of straight hues and
girlishesH and the audience notes
in pleased mood that 1
over lace” of simple, conventional
pattern. It conforms to the mode by
r- xr— I ■, r-^- ■■ ‘ .-..0r.,,,,,- ~,
V T yr— r -, T -_. y- v <- n
L . , _SsZ~I -Th
giving a flounced effect In straight
lines without added breadth to the
figure. The flounce is scant and set
upon another, each being about
eighteen inches deep and no fuller
than the skirt where it is gathered
upon the hips. While two and a half
yards wide, it is so soft and clings
so closely to the figure that the
skirt seems scarcely wider than the
hobble of the past two seasons.
It is made over a slip of the same
frostlike whiteness. A charming
little white satin peasant bonnet,
adorned with a garland of rosebuds,
completes the costume.
When she returns to her home,
after the birthday dinner given on
the stage in her honor, she wea'-s
over her white evening gown of
chiffon and crystal embroidery a
cloak of white chiffon lined with the
same material and bordered with
satin and fringe The neck, front
and large, flowing sleeves of the
evening cloak are bordered with
> Cross rows of the
fringe are arranged in geometric do
sign across the skirt of the coat,
meeting the border of satin In
front The gown and cloak glva
excellent hints to the young girl for
her afteri.oo and evening attire,
this Autumn.
Keeping in mind the fact that
this is to be inrgelv a white and
THE ATLANTA GEORGIAN AND NEWS.SATURDAY, OCTOBER 12, 1912.
ptnk Reason Miss Burke’s costumes
are In these colors. The gowns are
of white and the garniture almost
wholly of pink. This is true even
to the negligee which she wears
tn the mornin~, white chiffon over a
foundation of pale pink, like the In
ner part of a shell or the softly
tinted heart of a blush rose.
Though so early in the new
Autumn season certain notes have
been definitely sounded and certain
lines drawn as to the modes that
will prevail.
The filrectolre influence is. per
haps. the dominant one, while the
Louis XV inspiration is also still
evidenced in the much modified pan
nier skirt draperies, though nowa
days (and nights) the said draper
ies are only permitted to suggest,
in the most stubtie and therefore
most becoming way, those puffs
about the hips that once distorted
the most graceful figure.
Sometimes It Is true you will see
—and there is just the chance that
you yourself will be induced to wear
an evening dress whose tunic
folds of net will be of quite billowy
fullness, but this because they
are also quite transparent. The
slender and straight outline of the
figure and the underskirt will never
be lost sight of for a moment.
By the way, too, some of these
diaphanous panniers are being made
with long, fur-bordered slits at
Zither side which have something
of the quaint effect of huge and uu
eX?edtethen we are destined to see
B^r t-much m° re - l n fact-of the
Iki | |- ( c?l
k wls
H3&'SFI7 1 v
■ 'W’W/'
•* • ! : -.- 1$: •■
MHf
Hf' lk!vj F KW MH
B
■ IrHf .SB
ISiBl kß,’’
rrf ;
UfHll
Two Lu
cile Models
designed for
and worn by
Miss Billy
Burke ’»
“The ‘Mind
the Paint’
Girl.”
At Right
An After
noon Gown
of White
Lace Over a
Foundation
of White
Satin, Shows
the New.
Straight, Full
Skirt
Above
Evening
Cloak of
White Chif
fon Over a
Self Lining,
Trimmed
with Fringe
and Bands of
White Satin.
pleated skirt which came to us
singly and somewhat nervously in
the late Spiing and early Autumn,
but is now arriving boldly—and in
positive and pretty battalions! When
well-made, these skirt;; can be very
attractive, but real and special skill
is demanded for their making if
they are to give the new freedom
of movement and, withal, retain
the old narrow silhouette.
As to our waist line it is undoubt
edly to move down a little and pos
sibly also to decrease in circumfer
ence by an inch or so—if, that is. we
are to accept the guidance of an
impressive number of the new mod
els, where the waist is encircled and
accentuated by deep belts and
closely swathed sashes. But also,
and because fashion is so wise now,
that she manages to be all things
to all women, there are many
rather high-waisted and other almost
waistless gowns, while certain of
the more extreme evening models
are designed to be worn without
any corsets at all.
I note too —and deplore—a ten
dency in some quarters to restrict
our prized and pretty neck-free
dom by the bondage of high-folded
collar-bands and cravats, but still I
have sufficient confidence in the all
conquering and charming low collar ’
to believe that no such attempts will
be able to diminish the number, and
the enthusiasm, of its wearers
Very long sleeves (glove fitting
from the exceedingly low shouldet
line to the wrist or the knuckles)
are to be a feature of Autumn
gowna. 1
“Why I Became a Socialist”
+•+ +•+ +•+ +•-{. +•+ +•+ 4. ,4.
Countess of Warwick Explains
1
(From Hearst’s Magazine for October)
!>>**
■ 1
IMgSted.
A \\
//// wMk \\ \\
//// «LK v*V - \\ \\
i //// JWW <'A» T u\\
' oJK/. ’w x\ \\\\
K ! -l f • - \\
// i Ksfa&i<dF* F ’w' 'V>. 'J’ ,J£w«9Bh&&Ai \t
// < - vviMBU \\
\M’ \wHK\ W
„_/r\V< W .w c \\
WmlaoiH r w \\J
\v/ u F la. w% X ■ L / «hijnLhKJTßii 117
VI Iva* t> 'k- - ■
h a I, w-r A 111 i/
y( i tr W
fc_—- Q —-—> vJJ .l v® * .r*T!i<<**->y> 1 ■ —■*
. —TT- W- ■—— w yS^>//,y*-T~-. ■ : t L W' • * , o* — 1 Kjyry" -■ 1 ■
•"■ tlMa*r»" '" 11 '——l —— I>-} V*** *
K _-Jg3i«a.> TKTXXXATIOX-Al
"=
The Countess of Warwick.
Converted Following an At
tack on a Grand Fete by a
Socialist Journal.
At this time, when socialism is
attracting so much attention
from intelligent persons, the
views of the Countess of War
wick, one of its ardent followers,
are interesting.
In HEARST’S MAGAZINE for
October the mistress of Warwick
Castle tells why she adopted the
teachings of socialism. Her story
is only one feature of a magazine
replete with the best fiction and
articles of instructive value.
In part the Countess says:
1 BEGAN my career as a fashion
able woman. Before Igo any
further perhaps it is neces
sary to apologize for the personal
note in this article; but it Is un
avoidable if I wish to say what I
really think, and tn this case I want
to be quite intimate, because there
is no other way of expressing the
whole.
From childhood I was accus
tomed to move around the royal
court along with the other people
who were at the center of fashion
able life. Before I began to think
out the problem and the responsi
bilities of life, I candidly say that I
enjoyed the sparkle and gayety of
society. Xt is the easiest thing in
the world to be attracted by the
glitter and sunshine of life; it is so
easy to sit idly in a boat and glide
down a river with the current.
There is nothing evil or harmful/
in enjoying life; indeed, if life is
not to be a happy thing, there is
surely no rational argument why
we should go on living it.
Tried To Help the Poor.
Even when I was the woman of
fashion, I enjoyed myself to the
full. I do not think that I really
ever forgot that other people had
just as good a right as myself to be
happy also. 1 was Interested in
philanthropic work. I went about
with bishops and that sort of be
ings. opening bazaars and char
itable entertainments. 1 tried to
help the poor, and thought I was
helping them tn many ways.
In my early thoughtless enthusi
asm I thought tl..se things were of
real use. Then came one sudden
mental shack and I awoke from my
idle dreams, and saw the cold real
ity staring tne in the face. I want
to tell at some length the story of
my conversion, because It explains
so much which can not In any
other way be made clear. It was
the moment of my life which re
mained so vividly In the memory
than anything else that I have ex
perienced.
It happened thus: It was the
year after I had entered Warwick
. Castle for the first time as its
chatelaine. The death of my father
in-law made my husband the suc-
I cessor to the family title, and the
castle became our home.
After a year of mourning we de
cided to celebrate our house-warm
ing by a ball. I was seized with
■ the desire to have the most gorge
ous festivity that could be held. In
those days fancy dress balls w’ere
not usual, as they have become
since, and to make the occasion a
I real novelty I decided on making
the ball of that sort. Part of the
great court yard of Warwick Cas
tle was covered In for space; the
dancing was in the cedar room
paneled with Vandyck's pictures,
and I believed we gathered to
gether most of the beauty and
fashion of London and the coun
try. AU our neighbors had house
parties and the whole district was
filled with the bustle of preparation
and accomplishment. The news
got into the papers; it was called
one of the events of the winter.
A Time of Much Distress.
But all this time other events
were happening outside, of which
I fear the gay' dancers thought
very little. It was a season of
great distress among the poor.
There had been a frost which had
lasted for ten weeks—a very un
usual thing in England. Work had
been stopped In many trades, such
as building and like occupations;
and while wages were ceasing, the
need for food and clothing and
warmth was greater than ever. The
same papers w’hich were glowing
with the description of our ball at
Warwick were also filled with sto
ries of the sufferings of the work
ers,
Well, the great night came and
went. There was revelry in the
castle, and there were hunger and
want in many a home outside of
all England. The ball was a great
success and the papers were enthu
siastic. But there was one weekly
newspaper which had something
different to say. It was, I think,
on the second morning after the
ball that I found among my cor
respondence a newspaper of which
I had never heard until that mo
ment. It was called The Clarion,
and there was a black line calling
my attention to an article discuss
ing our hall at Warwick. I road
it with Indignant amazement. It
was a most violent attack on me
and all my guests for holding idle
festival at such a time of distress
After much search for The Clarion
office, at laxtl found it. I was at the
Went to See the Editor and
Was Convinced That He
Had the Right Idea.
top of an old staircase in one of
the older buildings of the street.
There I reached the door of a room
which bore the name of the editor
of this outrageous journal which
had dared to attack me and mine
for enjoying ourselves in away
which had—so I thought—given
work to the unemployed as well as
legitimate pleasure to us. With
out a word of announcement, I
burst open the door.
"Are you the editor of The
Clarion?” I burst forth. He nodded
just a slight assent. "Then I came
about this,” and I thrust the of
fending article under his nose. The
calm man said nothing, only his
dreamy eyes looked in a question
ing way, as though he was waiting
for me to proceed. "How could
you be so unfair and untrue?” I
demanded. “Our ball has given
work to half the county and to
dozens of dressmakers in London.”
The silent man spoke at last.
“Will you sit down? Shall I tell
you why you are so mistaken about
this wasteful luxury’ of you and
your sweet set?”
I sat down and Robert Blatch
ford began to tell me straight from
the shoulder—as it were—just what
he, as a Socialist and Democrat
and an economist, thought of all
my creed of charity and bazaars
and Lady Bountifulness. He went
on and on, tearing my old ideals,
one by one, to pieces. It was well
on in the afternoon before he
ceased speaking; we had both for
gotten lunch and passing time.
I Found My Boy Back.
I rqse at last a dazed woman,
and Half in a dream I found my
way back to the railwav station
and sat waiting for a train to bring
me back to Warwick. All that jour
ney I thought and thought, and
knew that a crisis had arrived in
my life and that I should never
think the same again as I had
thought before. I arrived at the
castle as my wondering guests
were going into dinner, amazed at
my absence. I gave no explanation
when I joined them, that I had
been to visit a new world of
thought and reality.
But though this dramatic mo
ment had arrived In my life, it was
long before I mastered the whys
and wherefores of the new Ideals.
I had only become emotionally’ con
victed that I had been working and
playing on the wrong lines. It took
much hard work before I was Intel
ligently certain that Socialism Aas
the only solution of the problem
of poverty