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The New Zealand Railways Magazine, Volume 6, Issue 7 (February 1, 1932.)

Our Women's Section

page 57

Our Women's Section

Leisure Hours.

So many women friends of mine have said that they never have a single spare moment to do what they really like—never a second to stretch lazily in the sun with a book, to “potter” happily about in the garden, to do a hundred little things which by their very triviality would mean rest and refreshment from the daily round.

It seems to me so absurd and so unfair to themselves that women should become slaves, often too willingly, to the household, to their children and the drudgery of the home. And it will be a drudgery if you do not seek some sort of relaxation. It is a duty to yourself to spend some time each day in doing something which is not really necessary, but which you enjoy. Nearly all men have their hobbies. After a weary day full of strain and worry, our brothers and husbands rest by doing something quite different—something demanding a fresh mental outlook and varied actions. Therefore, men are more tranquil as a rule, far calmer and more philosophical than we are. Because far too often, we are looking for something that “needs doing” in our few leisure hours. Perhaps there is mending to be done, not urgently needed—or a cake to make—or the children to be watched anxiously. Forget these things, if you can—every day for an hour or two, and you will return to them with fresh energy and delight. Otherwise there is a grave danger of losing interest in life and in yourself. Never forget that you are a person—that you are growing always and responding—and you must not lose your faculty of enjoyment. I have seen this happen hundreds of times among women who have too much to do—who would be frankly appalled were they to be given an hour of leisure.

If you want to be a companion to your children in all their adventures and activities, if you want to understand them and keep pace with their expanding lives—if you want to be a friend to your husband, to be able to discuss affairs with him apart from the purely domestic—if you want to be happy and young yourself—you must indulge in one or two leisure hours—hours of relaxation when you can read, walk, garden or develop one of your talents. “Have a hobby and happiness is yours.” Life is very swift and very restless and those “hours of idleness” will not be wasted.

page 58

page 59

Voile Evening Frocks.

Welcome news just now—when every penny has acquired tremendous value and when we are all so “hard up.” Yet we still desire to look attractive. Though the financial systems of the universe may crumble before our eyes—we will not change one atom—indeed we never have from the days when our moneyless sisters chose flowers from the forests to deck their hair and wove entrancing skirts from soft green leaves.

In London and Paris just now can be seen everywhere, at fashionable night clubs, week-end parties, gay “salons”—girls waltzing gracefully clad in alluring frocks of voile! No costly silks nor shimmering satins—but the effect is charming, because the blending of colours and the tout ensemble of fresh simplicity has been carefully studied. Many of London's smartest girls have abandoned stockings and appear coolly with slim brown ankles in a hot ball-room.

The most fascinating effects can be obtained from voile—and your evening frocks will be cheap enough to allow two or three in the place of one! Each of course, must have its slip. Your skirt shall be flared and almost to the ground, your waist high, and your little top sleeveless, and close-fitting. A coatee, also of voile, will be useful and transform your dance-frock into one suitable for afternoons. Now we can all indulge in a feast of gay, soft, floating voile.

Holiday.

Come down with me to the sea-shore!
To the happy, vivid sea-shore—
Oh—the blue, and the grey,
And the white of the spray
And the length of a day
By the sea-shore!
Come up with me to the hill-heights!
To the rugged, chiselled hill-heights—
Oh—the grass and the trees,
And the kiss of the breeze,
And the touch of the leaves
On the hill-heights!
Come out with me on the highway!
On the dusty, changing highway—
Oh the sun, and the road,
And the joy of a load
And the care-free abode
By the highway!
Come out with me in the moonlight!
In the magic, silver moonlight—
Oh the stars and the dew
And the wonder of You—
And the moments too few
In the moonlight!

S.G.M.

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