The Topeka State Journal

Fads and Fashions of Paris

PARIS, March 26. -- Portrait painting by electric light is the Parisian craze of the moment. A well known artist has evolved the idea that the picture of a woman in ball costume to be really effective must be painted in the light under which it is seen. This artist very plausibly argues that the loveliest tints in a gem of a gown look cold and uninteresting in the broad studio light of day. The skin of arms, face and neck also takes on a different coloring under the electric light. Therefore he has had the brilliant thought of electric light painting. Society has taken up this portrait fad with the usual vim and enthusiasm it accords novelty in whatever guise it presents itself. Consequently women who never wished to have their portraits taken in evening dress before are now besieging the studio of the art inventor and imploring this mighty genius to "do" them en grande toilette under electric light.

The summer girl of 1904 will be a living picture which will rival madame in the most charming electric light portrait ever made. Old Sol will be her torchbearer, and an old world garden fragrant with double roses, sweet william and marjoram will furnish Miss Simplicity's background, for she, the 1904 summer girl, is to masquerade as Dolly Varden, that vivacious little heroine of Dickens which even Cruikshank and his followers in their caricatures could not make us think anything but charming. The twentieth century Dolly will not wear her grandmother's historic mob cap, but will don instead the daintiest, most becoming of lingerie hats created from muslin or mull, which will frame her pretty face in soft, undulating frills. And her gown will be a dream of rose strewn muslin flounced to the knee, the little short waist being outlined by a fichu. This last adornment gives a Louis link connecting the old with the Dolly dress of the present.

Not the least attractive part of the Dolly costume is the parasol of plain mull harmonizing with the gown color scheme and alluringly becoming when lined with deep frills of chiffon and held coquettishly over the little lady's head. Her bag of Louis brocade must not be forgotten, nor the handsome sash, the latter perhaps an anachronism, but an accessory demanded by the dress of the present.

This new old mode is indeed charming, and the flowered muslins are responsible for the Dolly Varden styles now in vogue which will froufrou through the summer fashions of this year.

There is a hint in very authoritative quarters of the panier, which at any moment is likely to materialize in some of the stately dinner gowns built on Georgian lines, with their trains lifted slightly at the sides in panier effect. Apropos of dinners, one nowadays thinks twice before accepting an invitation to a small home feast which means "bridge" as a postprandial amusement.

This little diversion indulged in as it now is -- probably 10 or 20 louis a night -- is apt to be a risky business rather than a social pleasure unless one is fortunately above the sordid thought of lucre.

Anent gowns, the linen dress promises to be as popular this summer as it has been in the past. Costumes are made up of real or imitation Irish or guipure lace held together with bands of linen. These frocks are extremely fetching. The linen gown is usually spoken of as simple, a very misleading term, as the simplicity is regulated by the length of the skirt, which transforms it into a gown suitable for the golf links or for an afternoon reception.

I ventured the other day to ask a great couturiere whether tucks would figure prominently on his most exclusive creations in all fabrics. The answer came quickly. "Most emphatically yes." And I was told that the crossway fold, which is a simulated tuck, would be another favorite of la mode. Many of the colored linen frocks have narrow tucks quite to the knee and a waist of mull made very full, over which are bretelles of linen running up from the waist and widening into a cape over the shoulders very much on the order of that useful and dainty article a waitress' apron. Whole costumes are made up of real or imitation Irish or guipure lace held together with bands of linen. These frocks are extremely fetching. The linen gown is usually spoken of as simple, a very misleading term, as the simplicity is regulated by the length of the skirt, which transforms it into a gown suitable for the golf links or for an afternoon reception. I ventured the other day to ask a great couturiere whether tucks would figure prominently on his most exclusive creations in all fabrics. The answer came quickly. "Most emphatically yes." And I was told that the crossway fold, which is a simulated tuck, would be another favorite of la mode. Many of the colored linen frocks have narrow tucks quite to the knee and a waist of mull made very full, over which are bretelles of linen running up from the waist and widening into a cape over the shoulders very much on the order of that useful and dainty article a waitress' apron. The crossway fold, which is a simulated tuck, frequently outlined with a loosely woven braid wavy in pattern. Indeed, bands let in to skirts of lace and ribbon seem to be the adornment to which the full skirt lends itself most readily. Motifs of lace are often applied between the bands, and in the hands of an artist who understands his score the scheme is beautiful; but stuck on with no particular method they are simply grotesque.

Quite delightful are the old fashioned embroideries used on queer taffeta trimmings in pastel shades. A stunning cloth frock in palest pastel pink -- which is a color very much to the fore here in Paris -- is lovely with a full, plaited skirt trimmed up the center with a panel of this old fashioned embroidery, which also forms a yoke piece over the shoulders. This particular embroidery was done in soft pastel pinks and blues and further adorned with some quaint braidings and shaded pink roses in a raised design. The neck and inner sleeves were finished with rows of valenciennes lace.