=A SUGGESTION TO THOSE WHO MIND SUNBURN=

No advice is intended for those who have a skin that either does not burn at all, or turns a beautiful smooth Hawaiian brown; but a woman whose creamy complexion bursts into freckles, as violent as they are hideous, at the first touch of the sun need no longer stay perpetually indoors in daytime, or venture out only when swathed like a Turk, if she knows the virtue in orange as a color that defies the sun’s rays.  A thin veil of red-orange is more effective than a thick one of blue or black.

Orange shirt-waists do not sound very conservative, but they are mercifully conserving to arms sensitive to sunburn.  Young Mrs. Gilding, whose skin is as perishable as it is lovely, always wears orange on the golf course.  A skirt of burnt-orange serge of homespun or linen, and shirt-waists of orange linen or crepe de chine.  A hat with a brim and a harem-veil (pinned across her nose under her eyes) of orange marquisette,—­which is easier to breathe through than chiffon—­allows her to play golf or tennis or to motor or even go out in a sailboat and keep her skin without a blemish.

Constance Style, who also has a skin that the sun destroys, wears orange playing tennis, but for bathing wears a high-neck and long-sleeved bathing suit and “makes her face up” (also the backs of her hands) with theatrical grease paint that has a good deal of yellow in it, and flesh color ordinary powder on top.  The grease paint withstands hot sun and water, but it is messy.  The alternative, however, is a choice between complexion or bathing, as it is otherwise prohibitive for the “sun afflicted” to have both.

=RIDING CLOTHES=

The distorted circus-mirror clothes seen on men who know no better, are not a bit worse than the riding clothes seen on actresses in our best theaters and moving pictures—­who ought to know better.  Nothing looks worse than riding clothes made and worn badly, and nothing looks smarter than they when well made and well put on.

A riding habit, no matter what the fashion happens to be, is like a uniform, in that it must be made and worn according to regulations.  It must above all be meticulously trig and compact.  Nothing must be sticking out a thousandth part of an inch that can be flattened in.

A riding habit is the counterpart of an officer’s uniform; it is not worn so as to make the wearer look pretty!  A woman to look well in a habit must be smart or she is a sight!  And nothing contributes so much to the “sights” we see at present as the attempt to look pretty instead of looking correct.  The criticism is not intended for the woman who lives far off in the open country and jumps on a horse in whatever she happens to have on, but for those who dress “for looks” and ride in the parks of our cities, or walk on the stage and before the camera, in scenes meant to represent smart society!