Meanwhile London is excessively hot and very fat. The dress experts have flocked to Paris, which must be even hotter,' and are sending all sorts of stories of the autumn fashions. "The Queen's influence on coming modes' is conspicuous wherever I turn," says one. At the opera gala Her Majesty carried a long ostrich-feather fan; so ostrich feathers every-"Where, even on the sleeves of evening frocks, and more pelf for. that already wealthy and undeserving place, South Africa. Another correspondent dwells on the ransacking of the world, Java, China, Persia and Spain, for new colours, Java produces jewelled embroidery, China red and gold brocade, Spain boleros and matador hats, Persia sends a new tint "shocking pink." Isthisa variant of Charles Graves' handkerchief—"the latest colour, crushed mouse?" But when it comes to shocking, what do you think of trousers for dinner parties, cut on harem lines, very baggy and drawn in over the feet by jewelled anklets? One reads that the mannequin who displayed them was mot received with enthusiasm. After the success with which women have "pounded Cafe Turk" and even weathered Point Seraglio, harem trousers are putting back the clock too far.
One correspondent bids us prepare for "high unicorn-shaped hats" and wonders what will be done about them at matinees. Which urges me, at the risk of a chestnut, to recall the story of the man at a matinee who asked a woman in front of him to take off her hat. "I can't," she said, "I washed my hair last night and ith be all over the place if I do." Presently she turned and said to him, "I do wish you wouldn't fid—get so, that's the third time you've kicked me." "Im sorry, madam," he replied, "I washed my feet last night and Tve simply no control over them."
So, you see, Paris is preparing all sorts of exciting experiences for us.
Text read from the printed page and cleaned; old type leaves the occasional error.