Judge — July 6, 1929 — page 23: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

JUDGE IMIG Hi Feminine Unfairness The most torrid note of Sum mer, with me, has long b Dame Fashion's nt of coolness to the ladies. And, too, it is Summer's unfairest circumstance There was a time, if 1 may n dj from panoramas of past fashion parades, when the ladies encumbered themselves in a man ner which left their bodies a com plete mystery. One costume of the Nineties or Nineteen Hundreds would stock the hangers of a present-day Fifty-seventh Street Mai son. On windy days they looked like main tents, captive balloons, ‘and dirigible havens. They bundled to the chin in July. They wore hats that would kink a wrestler’s neck. Their shoes laced past the ankle. sir stockings were woolen; the color mattered not; one never saw them! Then something happened. Ladies slowly began to disrobe. It may have been the fault of saxo- phones. 1 don’t know much about saxophones. There ought to be an Outline of Saxophone His tory. But pretty nearly everything can be blamed on the saxophone—Rudy Val- lee, f'r instance. Or—it may have been Sum- mer and its discomfort. But ladies are s0-0-0-0 pleas- antly different. They have solved Summer's problem to SHOWAG HOW “THE / LADIES HAVE LICKED SUM WATE the most comfortable vantage point. Aw, men! What have we done!? About the only step we've taken in the direction of comfort is sweeping the iron derby from our heads. Are our habiliments 1 alled Summer bre ? HA! They are not! There may be fewer buttons on our clothes, but that is not a dig at Summer heat. We must wear our waist- if we are conven- Ties are compul- Straw hats are not las felt. And sup- pose we went without our SOX? “Tomato! . . . Oil that fan and shift it into high!” I don’t mean that men should don eretonne over- alls and brassiere shirts! But there must be some solution for we Sweltering Saps. ting in as (1 want no letters about Palm Beach Suits!) Ping Pong Note The rule of servi ball from below the waist bothered me to the point of doing something about it. I did. I scooted to my tailor and ordered a dozen pairs of white flannels with the waistline designed just below the armpits. I haven't lost a match since delivery of the first pair. “\ DoT MEAN Meat the SHALD DESY? MHS re WAY — GOSHNO!” Beatrice Lillie I met her at a buffet Sunday evening. Cocktails were served. She declined. “I had expected her to do something funny with the cocktail—such as balancing it on the tip of her pert nose. We swanked in to pick up our buffet suppers. I ex- pected her to do something funny about it—such as stubbing her toe and ending up in the spinach. We trouped out to the flagged terrace under the stars to our tables. [ exy her to say something funny such as, “Pardon me, don’t. sit opposite me, my fork keeps slip- ping!” But all she did was sit very straight and still and smile at me once in a while, and that isn’t funny ! —Juper, Jn.