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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