Fashions and Pleasures of New York

JOHN McMULLIN

PARIS has nothing on New York! I am speaking now of our night life. It sounds like heresy, but seriously, it is the truth. And facts might just as well be faced. We not only have that special something, which has made the Paris of night hours so desirable a place to be, but in addition, we have an atmosphere which exists only here, and is something all our own.

It used to be that only in Paris could one dine at some amusing restaurant and linger long over dinner in surroundings suited to conversation, good food and distinguished company. But we have found that pleasure out at last, amid all the roar of jazz bands, with the result that in our midst has come up, almost over night, such a place as "Petrouchka," in East Fiftieth Street. There the food is good, conversation comes to one as by inspiration, and it is just the place to entertain the distinguished. There is nothing disappointing about it. It has been admirably decorated by that justly famous Russian artist, Remisoff, and of course there is music. Soft romantic melodies that fire the eyes, come from the Trigane band at the end of the long room, and, strangely enough, one can actually dance to them oneself in an inspired fashion, At eight o'clock there is a chorus who sing wistfully and meltingly.

In fact, the whole place is very reminiscent of other places one has known in Europe and has somehow learned to forget, in the presence of brass bands and the "L". It quite cast a spell over me. Also the food was full of Russian surprises, And it is so comforting to be able safely to recommend food which is bound to please,

That is not all in the way of revelations at Fifty East Fiftieth. After one, when dancing has become tiresome, and one would really rather be alone (for two) there is the "Gipsy Room," at the top of the house of "Petrouchka", where it is quite "the thing" to go and sit on cushions on the floor, drink coffee, listen to more of those strange Russian melodies and—talk.

An Egyptian Cabaret

THE Russians are still going strong, The now famous "Russian Eagle" in East Seventh Street and the Russian Inn, in West Thirty-Seventh Street, are making all New Yorkers familiar with the art of the Russian Chef as well as the art of dining for dining's sake, which has, more or less, come into fashion again through the adventof the three places mentioned above,

But still newer is the Egyptian era in cabaret history. The "Rendezvous" is the first to sound the note and has blossomed out in a sort of Madame Tousseau's-Wax-Works edition of recent Egyptian discoveries. Miss Gilda Gray enacts the roll of King Tut's wife and as usual looks very lovely. It has become quite

smart to open cabarets with an invita tion performance. The Rendezvous started this fashion and again had a very brilliant and smart audience to start off its new show. And by the way the . Collegians still play there, apropos of nothing in particular—just good dance music.

The Palais Royal has an excellent band, even if Paul Whiteman has gone to Europe, and I must insist that anyone who has not been there since Norman Bet Geddes decorated the place, must go at once. It is one of the sights of New York and a great artistic achievement. And, mark you, it is a cabaret that has bought this great artist's work, just as it is a restaurant manager who had Remisoff decorate his wall.

The Club Gallant

THE Club Gallant is having even a greater success than at first with its night life in Washington Square. The show there is good and witty, that decorative person, KOwak, has more of the same startling dresses that she has always been famous for since the days of her career with the Chicago Opera Ballet. These are a small show in themselves. Summer will bring a fad of dining at the Club Gallant, then uptown to dance, or dining uptown, followed by a drive in an open cab or taxi, and down to Washington Square to dance. It is an idea! In either case, it means a drive in the cool of the evening between acts.

The Bossert Roof over in Brooklyn, I always recommend for the first hot nights in June, since I discovered it myself one night in June three years ago. It is a perfeet place to dine of a hot night. One must go early, by seven at the latest, to get a table by the rail. From this point of vantage, there is no view like it in the world, To see the city of New York fade into the twilight and the light begin to shine in the dusk, from a position in the clouds, is something never to be forgotten. . . . Remember this advice,

Summer is the time for going astray. The smart people forget to be smart. The others who have dreamed about excursions and picnics during the winter months, have an opportunity to learn all over again how dreadful such experiences may be. However, no good New Yorker can go through a summer without a spree at Coney Island. I think there is no better way to begin the spree than by dining in the recessed garden at the back of Feltman's, where the food is excel lent and the beer—very near beer, From the tranquil peace and excellent service of this secluded spot, one is precipitated into the throng to indulge in the wild pleasures of the scenic railway, the shoot-the-shoots and even the follies of the Tatoo man, if the party gets hectic enough.