Which Blouse for What?

Mary and I were absorbed in blouses. Not that either of us wanted one, but the shop window was interesting. Small as it was, the variety of blouses shown, both in style and material, was amazing. Here were varied effects in locknit, plain and striped, in sports style or fussily feminine; the colourful Hungarian peasant blouses worked on white or pastel-tinted voile; organdie blouses and waistcoats, sprigged or dotted; beautiful examples of hand embroidery on silk and satin.

One model had a draped and clipped neckline; another a round knife-pleated collar which aped simplicity; a third was lent interest by a panel of pleats down the front. A tailored blouse in striped silk had its yoke and pocket tabs with stripes horizontal. In contrasting style were blouses featuring a Juliet frill or a wide softly-gathered ruff.

* * *

Mary and I, sorry that we did not need blouses, finished our gazing and walked on. A woman ahead swung shapely shoulders; her tailored suit was trim.

“What sort of blouse?” said Mary.

“Frilly,” I hazarded.

“Wrong,” said Mary. “Hurry, and we'll look.”

A little brisk walking and we had passed our lady; were, in fact, half turned from a shop window as she passed us. And her blouse was tailored, definitely tailored.

“How could you tell, from the back?” I asked Mary.

“My dear Watson, the clue was there. Did you see her hat? A Breton sailor, shiny straw, but rather severe. She wouldn't contrast that hat with a fussy blouse.”

“Mm! Maybe. You win this time.”

* * *

But I wasn't satisfied. The next tailored figure we chased had a small black hat wisped with veiling. The crown seemed to go high in front and there was a peep of flower decoration.

“Frilly?” said Mary.

“Frilly!” said I.

It was, and we shook hands on it.

“But I'm still not satisfied. 1 want another plain hat.”

It wasn't until a good deal later, after afternoon tea and odd shopping, that we came up behind a woman in a navyblue tailleur and a shiny navy straw hat with a neat double roll brim.

“Tailored again, of course,” said Mary.

“I'm not so sure,” said I.

After our little chase and pause ahead of her, I was the one to sinile. Organdie the blouse was, with a frilly plastron effect in front. Mary had to admit it looked well, smarter even than the tailored blouse of the first woman we had seen.

The foregoing is related merely to stress the ubiquity of the blouse—the effect of contrast may be obtained by style as well as by material and colour.

* * *

Contrast, again, was the style notes of a pinafore frock I saw the other day. The woollen frock attested the continuance of chill winds, but the soft shining satin of the blouse was a bow to spring.

Striped frocks iti cotton and silk, usually in shirtwaist syle, arc trimmed by their own stripes. Even short sleeves have their stripes in two directions.

Jackets and skirts contrast with each other, one plaid and the other plain. Patch pockets break the line of a straighter swagger. Jackets top formal evening gowns. Wide sleeves, beaded, embroidered or appliqued, contrast with the slim lines of hostess frocks. Hanging sleeves with contrasting lining are gaiiiing in popularity.