Life, 1927-07-21 · page 9 of 38
Life — July 21, 1927 — page 9: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This is a satirical short story, not a political cartoon. The illustration shows a chaotic scene with playing cards, theatrical masks, and elegantly dressed figures in a decorative border—suggesting the glamorous but frivolous social world Parker is satirizing. The text depicts a wealthy woman fretting over trivial weekend plans: what to wear to dinner, managing guests, arranging a country trip, and navigating domestic staff. Parker's satire mocks the self-centered anxieties of upper-class leisure culture, where women obsess over social appearances and minor domestic dramas while remaining oblivious to larger concerns. The ornate, busy illustration reinforces the visual excess and superficiality of this world—a classic Parker critique of wealthy idleness disguised as witty, breathless narration.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
KNEW I shouldn't have come I knew it would be terrible Only I didn’t think it would be as bad as this. This isn’t just plain terrible; this is fancy. I should have sent a wire, yesterday. “Heart- broken not to be with you for week- end, but have just been stricken with cholera.” Cholera horse-thief, if you will, but mother. That isn’t any good. It's good enough for this party, though. vod for them. I wish I'd stayed at home T can't say no, that’s the big trou ble with Oh, Mrs.) Parker, won't you come out on the seven- teenth, for over the week-end? Oh, I'd simply love to; it’s so lovely of she’s. my you to want me. T never said no in my life. I couldn't say no to a goose No, that’s not right. [t's boo that people aren't able to. say toa goose. Well, I suppose they are just as well off without it. Just be cause you can say boo to a that doesn’t entitle you to the mantle of Whistler. Look at me—versed in French, and expen sively educated, and practically in the first flush of womanhood, and here I am, stuck down here on this filthy house-party, just because I can't say no, goose, Au contraire Amusing people, she said she was ing to have here. If tho amusing people I saw on the porch, I am the three Sitwells. I thought I'd come to the wrong place; 1 thought the driver had let me out were at a home for backward children. Dotty’s: Week-end in) Moro or, Fun Among Life's Misfits. ‘This is going to be great, from now until Dorothy Parker Monday wonder if I couldn't go home Sunday. morning. I I wonder if I couldn't call up somebody them ‘ and to send get me a telegram: “Come at once will explain later.” I don’t suppose TI be able to get a crack at the telephone without every body listening. 1 suppose I'm trapped until Monday. That will he a pretty trip in, Monday morn ing. Oh, doesn’t the look charming, before the up! country sun is That change at Jamaica is going to in the early morning. No matter where I I always have to They'd throw out the whole time-table, rather than let me get a the train. I bet if I were on a non-stop transatlantic change at’ Jamaica fight, we'd change at Jamaica ‘That's all | have to look forward to, changing at Jamaica, ‘That's my right there JHAT a guest-room this is! 1 W future, always get a room like this They needn't think it's any surprise to me. Where shall we put) Mrs. Parker? Oh, let her have the Tron Maiden, She won't care rel be so glad to get out of the hot city. I bet T could have blindfolded my eyes, and named the pictures on the walls of this room before I'd crossed the threshold. “Lorna Doone” and The Girl with the Fan” and “Sir Galahad.” There they are. T won der how they came to overlook Watts’ “Hope Maybe having its frame fixed. for it, if it is bust its glass for it. take it's away Good thing I'm just in form to Maybe I could a couple of socks at “Lorna Doone” while until Mond six hours. TM be here That's fifty I'm here Ay morni Oh, my God Wat shall I wear for dinner? I'd betternot breakout the violet dress. That young man in the hiero glyphic sweater has me all picked out, right now, to spill highballs on T could tell the minute I uything like it ly there's laddie waiting to upset highballs on look in his eves the came in, T never knew No matter where | over God's green footstool, always. clean-limbed me. That's my sex life. Oh, pleas don't: bother it—it’s nothing but an old dress, anyway; you can’t do it a bit of harm. Vd better start rehearsing that now Phat hiero- glyphie boy 1 to me as if he'd be at the spilling stage in anywhere from fifteen to twenty minutes. Yes and I know the whisky they have in this house, too. White Hearse Scotch. Tf he spills one of those highballs on me, PM be scarred for life. Oh, please don’t trouble—you couldn't hurt this old dress if you tried. You big stiff! Dinner is going to be pretty. I know all about it, right now. On my right, there'll be one of those outdoor boys, that will tell me all Oh, it) must I wish you'd fishing: rbout dry-tly be simply fascinating; just take me along and Jet me wateh Vd be just as quiet as a little mouse. 1 you. Wouldn't you, some time? know how to talk to those salmon trout boys. ‘There's an autobiog raphy! left, TM have some comicbooks.com