Judge, 1915-05-08 · page 11 of 24
Judge — May 8, 1915 — page 11: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This satirical story illustrates early 20th-century anxieties about the fashionable "bob" hairstyle. Mrs. Dillway impulsively had her long hair bobbed by an unknown barber after seeing an advertisement, and now regrets the drastic change—calling it a "fright" and comparing herself to a man. The humor relies on period class and gender anxieties: a wealthy woman's mortification over an unfashionable (or too-fashionable) cut, her concern about being seen in public before visiting her regular beautician, and the scandal of hiring an unknown tradesman without proper vetting. The story's title suggests the "emergency" nature of hair mishaps for fashionable women of the era, when hairstyle was a crucial marker of respectability and social standing. The illustration depicts a beauty salon where such disasters could be remedied—if one had sufficient means and connections.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
By J. Aw EM BA RRAS SING WALDRON EM ERGENC Y UjS30 @339U0T HOITAM S103 2UASIT e2OuAade —_ 66 AH, MADAME DILLWAY! What a pleasure! Where have you been? It is so long since I have seen you!"’ Madame Pierre greeted an old patron with beaming face. But in a moment amazement succeeded the look of cheer. “You are surprised,’’ said Madame Dillway nervously. ‘‘I am in despair!’’ She laughed almost hysterically and pivoted about. “Do you see? Madame Pierre had seen. ‘‘It is terrible! pardon candor?—it is grotesque !"" Mrs. Dillway’s hair had caused the emotion. “Don't I know that? And it must be remedied—at once— even if I have to wear a wig."’ “Have I not always served you promptly? Yet a wig takes time. Your shade is so unusual. And one’s hair should match one’s manner, as it were—one's individuality—of which it isa part."” “Yes. Iknow. But haste is necessary."* “This,"’ said Madame Pierre, taking out a group of puffs, ‘‘is almost the shade. Yet of course it will not do."* She looked about her stock anxiously. ‘‘I fear I have nothing at the moment that will serve. Ah, me! What a catastrophe! How did it happen?"* “But it will not take you long, I hope, to cover my disgrace?’’ “No, indeed. We are alert to all needs and supply them with dispatch. You haven't told me." “I wanted my hair bobbed. It was last night."” It is—you will SPECIALITE D FRINGES €T BIR S —MART! “Why didn’t you come to me? Yet many have regretted the style, which at first seemed chic. It is really eccentric. And your hair isa fright! It is what they call ‘shingled,’ is it not— like a man's? Alas!"’ “*Yes—yes! I know I am a fright. That is why I came to you this morning. One never meets those one knows ‘before noon. And as for coming to you, why didn’t 1? One is absent-minded, or foolish, or both, at times. But this was really what you might call an accident.’’ “‘Impossible! An accident?’’ “Yes. I had noticed a placard in a window near by: ‘Every Attention Paid to the Hair of Ladies.’ I particularly wished to appear at an advantage to-day. So I sent my maid to ask if they attended ladies at home. She brought a man back with her. He was young, dark, polite and really prepossessing, except for his clothes. He spoke little English. I asked him if he could bob my hair in the best manner. His affirmative pantomime was eloquent —convincing. He disposed me in a chair, with a cloth about my neck, and began. He was quick about it. I wasn’t near my mir- ror. As I rose and saw what he had done, I fainted. He was gone when my maid restored me."* ‘‘This man—this vandal, madame—who was he?'’ ‘*A common barber!"" “*Is it not terrible?”’ “But I must disguise this disgrace at once, you understand.’’ “Surely, But your husband—M’sieu Dillway—will he not sue comicbooks.com