Part 96

"Dress may be called the speech of the body," says Mrs. Haweis.

A woman's dress should be so much the expression of herself that, seeing it, we think not of the gown, but of the woman who is its soul. The true art of dress is reached when it serves only to heighten the charms of the wearer, not to draw attention from her to center upon her garments. One writer on beauty in dress claims that "the object is threefold: to cover, to warm, to beautify," and in dealing with this latter point farther says that, "rather than to beautify, it is to emphasize beauty." To this statement should be added that its mission is also to minimize or do away with defects.

Most dressing is done to enhance the beauty of the face, but women should remember that the tint of the complexion, the color of hair and eyes, are but a small part of the personnel. The physique must be taken into account. The "type" is a fact fixed and inevitable, and the woman is wise who sets herself steadfastly to "develop and emphasize its beauties and overshadow and efface its defects."

It is only by real study that a woman grows to understand and analyze her "type" and suit all accessories to her own personality; to adjust, as it were, her "relations." Art, after all, is simply, as Edmund Russell admirably defines it, "relations, the right thing in the right place."

Study your own individuality and assert it in your dress. "No woman need be ugly if she knows her own points," and some points of attractiveness every woman has. Lord Chesterfield, that cynical man of the world, assures us that "no woman is ugly when she is well dressed." That is, dressed with reference to revealing good points and concealing weak ones. Time spent in this study is gain, when one remembers in how many ways actual outward ugliness is an impediment. "The greater portion of ill-tempered, ugly women are ill-tempered simply because they believe themselves hopelessly ugly." A woman, finding her fairer friends constantly preferred despite her vain attempts to please, grows disheartened, then sarcastic, envious, ill-tempered, half unconsciously.

"Knowledge is power; beauty and knowledge combined are well-nigh all-powerful."

Stout and Thin.

Texture, color and form must all be considered in relation to the personal appearance or "type." The beautiful in itself is not always a safe guide, but its beauty in relation to the wearer must be the test. Fair, delicate, slender women make a great mistake when they over-weigh themselves with rich, heavy fabrics, no matter how beautiful these may be in themselves. Instead, they should keep to clinging, draping materials, sheer lawns and shining silks.

On the contrary, the very stout woman may wear all manner of rich gownings that fall in gracious massive folds. Clad thus, her size will have about it a restful element of repose. Let her beware of closely fitted gowns. These tend to enhance the size they are supposed to conceal. Watteau or Princess robes falling from the shoulder in unbroken lines render her imposing. Little ruffles should be avoided, or frills of lace, and whatever drapery there be should fall from shoulder or hip; this gives long curving undulations that follow every movement.

The stout woman should leave black satin severely alone; reflecting the light, it reveals form and size relentlessly. "Revealed form is vulgar, suggested form poetic," says the high art of to-day, and who would not be poetic and gracious if she could? "If stout women," declares Edmund Russell, "would learn to move in grand, slow rhythm, and wear textures so heavy that the lines of their figures were concealed, they would have a grandeur and dignity that no slender woman could hope to attain."

Women must recognize their defects before they can hope to correct them. A tall, angular woman must adopt soft, fleecy materials, so made that they can float and curve about all ungraceful angles, hiding, or softening them. She of a deficient figure must never wear a plain, tightly fitting gown, unless it is relieved, and filled out with soft full vests, or veiled with falling folds of lace.

There is only an occasional perfect form that will bear the merciless revelation of the plain, tight habit, and even then the suggestion of a concealing drapery heightens the beauty of the revealed curves. "All dress should be governed by shawl instead of glove rule," assert the latest canons of costume.

Tall or Short.

There are proportionately more women that are too short, than too tall. Always a little sensitive to this defect, some try to increase their stature by high heels, which renders their gait awkward, besides being injurious to health. Others endeavor to add to their apparent height by cultivating a long waist. This they do at the expense of shortening the lower limbs, thus making themselves seem shorter than they actually are. Others strive to attain the same end by dressing the hair high, in this way too often adding to the apparent bulk of the head and giving a top-heavy appearance to the figure. It is here that a full-length glass becomes almost a necessity in the dressing-room, so that the entire effect of the figure may be observed at once, and defects of this nature detected at a glance. Sometimes a high ornament worn at the top of the head apparently increases height, but beware of any bulky style.

Long lines of drapery from shoulder to foot give the effect of height. Horizontal lines crossing the figure shorten the form.

Short, stout women, by wearing short basques that make a line about the hips, or ruffles and puffs at the shoulders, increase their bulk and shorten their stature.

Women too tall and slender use horizontal lines and puffed and ruffled effects to great advantage, thus increasing the apparent size of an arm by puffs and surrounding bands, or hips by the descriptive line of a basque.

The way of wearing the hair, also, may greatly change the whole appearance. Worn at the nape of the neck it is domestic; lower, romantic; on a level with the head, classic; on top of the head, stylish.

Decorations.

A tenet of Delsartean art asserts that, "A decoration is to make something else beautiful and must not assert, but sacrifice itself. Ornament that has no use whatever is never, in any high sense, beautiful."

A trimming with no reason for being is generally ungraceful. Buttons which fasten nothing should never be scattered over a garment. Bows, which are simply strings tied together, should only be placed where there is some possible use for strings tied together. In short, according to Mrs. Haweis, "Anything that looks useful, and is useless, is in bad taste." For instance, the dress imitating a peasant or a fishwife is never so graceful or piquant as the real costume, since the handkerchief covering the peasant's bare neck is much more picturesque than a bodice trimmed in form of a kerchief.

Slashes are at all times a most beautiful decoration. At shoulder, elbow, breast, edge of a flattened cap, the knees, cut just where a devotee of comfort might cut them to give more freedom of movement. The slash forms an unrivalled opportunity for displays of color. Deep blue, parting to display a glimpse of amber, white through black, the combinations are endless, and the whole gives the idea of a glimpse of an undergarment through an outer one. The contrast of a lining of vest, sleeve or panel is also a harmonious ornament.

Décolleté Costume.

It is not the province of this work to decide the vexed question of the low-cut bodice for full dress. In this respect every woman will be a law unto herself, and every woman knows in her own mind the border line below which the corsage should not fall. All, however, do not know how greatly the hard, horizontal line of the low-cut bodice diminishes the appearance of height. Herein lies the great advantage of the heart or square-shaped opening showing the throat, since a dress high behind, or on the shoulders, gives all the height. Last, but not least, all the lovely curves of the throat are shown in this way, and any suspicion of angularity of the collar bone is hidden.

A dress should never end directly upon the skin. The line of contact should always be softened by an edge of lace, tulle, or ruching. First, for the idea of cleanliness; second, because "nature abhors sharp edges." In flowers there are contrasts of color, but they are always softened, each shade stealing a little from the other as they blend.

A regularly décolleté gown is properly worn only during the same hours that a gentleman's dress suit is donned, that is, "from dusk to dawn."

Sharp edges should be avoided as much as possible in the entire costume. A glove that ends exactly at the wrist bone, or a boot at the ankle joint, with a straight line, is always ugly; so are dresses when they are cut in a circle close to the juncture of the neck with the shoulder, giving the neck a decapitated appearance. The line of contrast should always be softened with an edge of lace, or a necklace, and only round, pretty throats should dare such a display.

The skirt ought to appear, even if it is not, as a portion and a continuance of the bodice. That is, "if the bodice be cut to fit the figure tightly, the skirt ought properly to be plainly gored. If the bodice be full at the waist line, the skirt also should contain fullness, for this form signifies a loose, full garment bound at the waist with a girdle."