WITH THE DANSANT AND DRAMA, PARIS IS GAY

To Terpsichore and the Stage are Dedicated the Best Efforts of the Couturiers

AN ETERNAL tango" is how a witty American epitomizes the life of the French élégante of to-day — and very accurately, too. Does the Parisienne play bridge? No, she tangoes! Does she promenade on the Bois? Oh no, she tangoes. Does she ride, drive or pursue any of her accustomed pastimes? Indeed she does not; she tangoes. She tangoes afternoon, evening and night until, the wee sma' hours long past, she hies her home for a brief beauty sleep that she may be up and atangoing again. A pair of gilded cothurns rampant might well symbolize Paris to-day. Adept at all graceful arts, the Parisienne grows more proficient as the season advances. With exquisite skill, she points her toe and stamps her heel, she dips and twirls through all the amazing variations of the dance of the day which, be it said to its credit, is quite as pleasurable to look upon as it is to execute.

THE beautiful Bois is forsaken save only by those who love it for itself. No one any longer goes there just because it is fashionable. Truth to tell, the Parisienne is not naturally strenuous. She prefers soft cushions to the hard saddle, and, as the dance provides all the exercise she needs, on such occasions as she ventures forth it is to lounge in her limousine. The luxurious motor car with its costly fittings, silk cushions and baskets of flowers, is now by no means a rare sight in the Avenue des Champs Elys^es, and since the practical tailor suit but ill accords with the magnificence of this equipage, elaborate toilettes and languorous poses are adopted by its occupants. Paris is entering upon a period of luxury and elegance unequalled since those days when the beautiful young Spanish-born Empress set the pace that made of Paris during the Second Empire a rendezvous of pleasure and fashion approaching that of the eighteenth century.

THE early winter spared us its rigors. The days were mild and balmy as spring, and if it did rain no one cared. While the weather favored clinging draperies and light clothes, Paris took advantage of it to the full. At the last race meeting the sun shown as brightly as in April, with a hint of the showers that come as no surprise in that fickle month. The fashions irresistibly suggested bygone centuries, but just which centuries it was, alas, difficult to decide. On one side were the panniers of the grand siecle, the tunics of the orient, and draperies that looked as if carved by the chisel of Praxiteles; while on the other hand we saw the Directoire styles — revers, pockets, trimmings, everything, even to the waistband, true to that epoch. One pretty girl was very picturesque in a dark blue velvet coat over a skirt of black taffeta. Her hat, a Lewis model, with its high crown, looked like those worn by the old-time stagecoach drivers, with the difference, however, that this hat was trimmed superbly with black aigrette fronds called crosse aigrettes, now extremely fashionable. A MAGNIFICENT blond creature, who played the part of the "other woman," wore two gorgeous toilettes. The first was of blue velvet with a short, flaring coat and a tunic, both edged with brown fox. The trimming on the coat was placed just above that on the tunic so as to give the impression of two bands of fur on a complete costume. Her second dress was the subject of much comment. The draped skirt of satin supported a heavily embroidered gold tunic that hung fluted round the knees, where it was edged with fur, from under which long strands of jet were looped up in such wide sweeps that they almost touched the hem of the skirt. Round the waist was a jet girdle, from which depended V-shaped motifs of jet, encircling the hips. The sleeves and bodice were of black tulle embroidered with little half moons in gold, and over the shoulders hung strands of black jet. At the same theatre during an interval a fair girl wearing a green velvet dress with a culotte skirt was the centre of observation.

MANY of the important dressmakers would like to see the Directoire style revived for the coming season, but it is very dubious whether their wish will be gratified. It is not a style which every woman can wear. The Directoire fashion, very stately, with its masculine boldness and sweeping lines, is only for the ultrachic, and demands much grace and distinction on the part of its interpreter. The influence of the Directoire mode is, however, felt in the tendency toward longer coats. Madame Paquin,. although she is making semi-long afternoon wraps, in velvets of mixed colors, patterned with huge flowers, is discarding the bolero for coats that are longer at the back, and take a decidedly lower sweep over the hips.

AT THE Paris "Openings" it was noted that, except for minor details, there was not much change in the mode as seen during the days of the last Deauville meetings. Desperate efforts are being made to vary the silhouette, but the astute costumer knows that this must be done gradually, so as not to alter with too startling rapidity the lines which the Parisienne loves. Some are seeking to revive the Watteau style with its bunchedup back draperies, a fashion eminently becoming to young people. Some are turning the back of the skirt to the front in an effort to obtain a new effect; while others continue to turn it upside-down, so that the skirt is narrow and untrimmed at the feet, with the fulness at the waist where the frills are attached.

SUZANNE REVONNE, a pretty Parisian actress, who plays the role of the heroine in that satirical play, "The Golden Calf," appeared in the second act in a dress of white satin, the skirt of which was, to all intents and purposes, worn the wrong way round. Down the front of the skirt, which hung straight, was an undisguised seam, while the back was draped up and slit at the heel, where a flounce of white silk chiffon was inserted in quite the accepted fashion. Over the hips daintily flared a short tunic of white accordion plaited chiffon. At Rejane's, Mademoiselle Fusier wore two charming dresses, much alike. In the first act her costume was of cerise satin. The skirt was looped up, as before described, and over it was hung a tunic edged with brown fur, which was shorter in front than at the back. The bodice had kimono sleeves and was simple in line; the only break was at the neck where, under the turned down collar of frilled lace, a band of fur formed a motif in front. The second dress was of an apple green shade, and the plain close fitting skirt, had a flat, plaited mousseline de soie frill — if one may call it so, though it did not flare — sewed on just above the knee. This was topped by a plaited mousseline bodice having a tunic so short that it barely covered the hips, and left a plain width of satin intervening between the plaiting on the skirt.

WE HEAR, by the way, that the culotte is by no means dead. Quite the reverse, it is very much alive. Callot and Doucet are two firms that give countenance to it; not to mention Poiret, who has never relinquished his hold upon it since he introduced it four years ago. Also we hear it said, over and over again, that neither Persia nor the orient, will continue to furnish ideas for the garbing of the fashionable Parisienne. Be that as it may, there is not much indication of any new source of inspiration at the present moment. On the contrary, the most beautiful toilettes — with the exception of the Directoire gowns, and these are exclusively for day wear — are taken from the dress of the Far East. Take, for instance, the gown worn by the Duchess de Talleyrand on subscription night at the Opera. Over the hips, running deep down toward the back, after the manner of the line the coats now take, was superb embroidery of pearls and rhinestones sewn into an Oriental pattern. Over this, but below the hips, so as to leave the embroidery exposed in all its splendid beauty, was a drapery of supple brocade, elongated at the back to form a train. The shoulders and bust were draped with silver tulle to form the corsage, which was snugly tucked into a jewelled band at the waist.

MADAME PAQUIN made a beautiful gown for a tango dance given in that Bohemian set which sets Pans talking. It was worn by a dark and beautiful Spanish woman. Of pink taffeta, it had first a tunic of the basic material with the wide hem turned back at the right side. Over this was hung a double tunic of very thin pink tulle, edged with taffeta. From the girdle, composed of pearls worked in a pattern of leaves and flowers, depended on either side long strands of crystal beads, interspersed with pearls, forming a cascade of white fire when its wearer danced. The bodice was practically non-existent, as only a fold of tulle draped the shoulders, the back being left uncovered almost to the waist. The drapery was caught together over the bust by two immense roses of a darker shade. The headdress, also made by Paquin, was a single band of brilliants into which was set a semicircle of pink aigrettes, curved over the head to make a semi-circular cap. Another gown, somewhat fantastic, but very lovely, worn at the same dance, and of which a sketch appears on nage 71, was of white tulle, with an underskirt of satin embroidered with crystals at the feet. Over this was a tunic of shirred tulle, like a Russian ballet tunic, ending in two narrow supple frills. Draped across the shoulders and the bust, to form a quaint little bodice, were crystal and pearl embroideries. The wearer had her hair dressed in the new Japanese style, with a large Spanish comb made of pearls thrust in at the back of the head. Thus are styles and periods mixed. A charming Callot model was worn on the smart Friday night at the Magic City by a well-known society woman who "dares" much. This, too, was sketched and appears at the upper left corner of this page. It wasofblacksatin, very much cut away at the knees. From thence it fell into graceful cascades about the ankles to the back where it formed a long train — the more these dresses are cut away in front, the greater the length of train trailing on the carpet. About the hips was wrapped a Turkish sash of draped black satin, and above this, encircling the bust, there was a band of gold lace. The shoulders and arms were veiled in long, wing sleeves, ending in a tassel which fell almost to the feet.

AT a tango tea was worn a charming dress of mole-colored satin. The dress in itself was simple in line, with a beautiful, gold - embroidered sash that hung down the front. At the back, between the shoulders, hung a loose, and quite deep, frill of mole-colored chiffon, and another similar one hung from under the waistband. This gown was worn under a semi-long, flaring moleskin coat, unfastened in front. A new Doucet dance dress was especially lovely. The lower part of the skirt was of mole-colored satin, with the inevitable slit at the feet, and a long, pointed train. Over the hips was drawn a tunic-like drapery of oxydised silver embroidery resembling fish scale, edged with a fluted frill of pale orange chiffon. The bodice is of pale orange chiffon, with shoulder straps of the silver embroidery. Where the draped tunic meets at the waist is a panache of small black ostrich tips. Gold and silver tissue, inset with pearls and rhinestones, gives to the evening gowns of the moment an appearance suggestive of gorgeous jewelry. In the sway of the dance the effect is indescribably charming

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THE tailor-made continues its— for Paris—extraordinary popularity. Of course, I do not mean the classic tailored gown. This is no longer the vogue, the supple, feminine, fantastic, coquettish French tailleur having taken its place. Each house has its own particular conception of what a tailor suit should be, and it is interesting to note that, while all adopt different methods, the final effect is much the same. Doucet has a penchant for long coats, full over the hips, with mannish waistcoats in striking color contrasts. Cloth in a golden brown shade, called mordore, which is displayed in their show rooms, was made up into a suit, the coat of which was long but semi-fitting— a welcome change after the "vague" coats met with everywhere of late. The waistcoat, in this case, was of black velvet, worn over a chemisette of lace. A still newer note is struck in the next suit. It is of gorgeous cerise velvet, trimmed at the neck with an opossum collar. The semi-fitting coat has a high waist-line in front. The back part of the coat falls lower than the front and is folded under. With black velvet dresses it is not at all uncommon to see coats of vivid red, green or yellow. A coat shown by Berncoat shown by Bernard was of red cloth fastened down the front with large red bone buttons. Under the waistband, placed over the hips in this case, and fastened with a black jet buckle, was a plaited frill forming a basque, the in order that the semi-long fur or velvet coats, now so popular in Paris, may be more easily and quickly slipped on over them. It being mid-season we are now very well posted on winter styles, but instead of resting content and reveling in the modes of the moment, we are already, with characteristic restlessness, speculating upon what next season will bring. Let us take a peep into the future. First of all, white taffeta. Oh no, the Parisienne has, by no means, tired of white, and especially of white taffeta! Perhaps the reason for its great popularity is that it combines so attractively with net, and net is to be the material par excellence.

front remaining unplaited. The tunic for the afternoon tailor suits is losing its fluted line, and becoming more and more bell-shaped, as seen in the illustration at the lower left corner of page 63. Made of beautiful, golden brown velours de laines, with a short coat which follows exactly the lines of the tunic. This model, although it bears no label, is worthy of any big house because all its beauty lies in the cut and fit, and not at all in elaborate ornamentation. A suit of tan cloth, shown me recently is to be worn at Monte Carlo in January by Miss Alys Lorraine, the beautiful American prima donna, who has been such a success at the Paris Opera. It reveals the fact that the apron effect, introduced by Madame Cheruit and worn by her during her vacations at Hendaye during the past summer, still continues in vogue, and also that the short bolero will not, as many have said, quickly die a natural death. These jaunty short coats have tight sleeves

PARIS dressmakers are already working behind locked doors upon new models, and they are using quantities of what is called tulle d'Alençon, a thick, durable, washable tulle that wears well. Materials having an opalescent quality and called "nacrine" will be a novelty. These will be seen in shades of pink and green.