The Vandalism of Improving Upon Perfect New models of the season are passing on review, in the salons of the designers, in the pages of Vogue, in the-shops.' Each model is a complete creation, designed by an artist, 1 little masterpiece that has as much quality as a new piece of a new play, or book, and has far more immediate influence on the daily life of the world—at least, of the feminine part of it. When it comes from the designer's hands, it is finished. To add a bit of trimming unintelligently or to alter its me unskilfully would-be as hazard dous an undertaking as to append 'a few stanzas to a completed poem or to paint curls on a Mona Li Many a woman fails to reali this fashion truth. She is apt to be carried away by enthusiasm for a sleeve from one frock, a flounce from another, a neck-line from another. She believes that it is the new details themselves—rather than their coordination—that make the smartness of the frock. And, because she likes part of one model and part of another, the temptation comes to order or make a frock that. will combine the two. This is as risky as building house with both American-Colonial and Byzantine styles of architecture. The woman who mixes models does so at the probable expense of chic. The separate parts of her costume may be good, but the effect as a whole is frequently hodgepodge. "I desi ed it myself," she says proudly. "It looks it," isthe unspoken comments.
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.