time that he invents a becoming toilet he makes a
new creation not only of the toilet, but of the woman.
There has, in fact, been a great change made in modern
times in matters of dress. Our modern women are
no longer content with merely seasonable dresses,
appropriate in form and material for spring, summer,
autumn, or winter; they are no longer satisfied to
have four interviews a year with the dress-maker.
On the contrary, every event in social life—a
wedding, a ball, a visit to a country-house, the annual
excursions to sea-side and mountain—gives
occasion for special dresses, or rather costumes, for
in modern toilets the element of pure costume plays
a considerable
role especially in those destined
for wear in the country. The modern woman of
fashion needs endless morning, afternoon, and evening
dresses, tea-gowns, breakfast-dresses, of endless
varieties of form, stuff, and color. Hence she
is constantly in communication with the
couturier,
who has every opportunity of examining her morally
and physically, confessing her, listening often to
strange confidences. Not unfrequently he combines
with his artistic career that of a banker. Naturally,
ladies who run up yearly bills of twenty thousand
dollars for gowns and mantles are often in a corner
for want of a few thousands, and the Parisienne in
such circumstances often thinks it equally natural
to have recourse to the strange creature who dresses
her and who thus comes to occupy a very curious position
on the confines of society.
The final trying-on of the dresses of madame la baronne
is a grand day, and often a few friends, both ladies
and gentlemen, are invited to assist at the ceremony;
for the Parisiennes recognize in some of their masculine
friends, and particularly in painters, certain talents
for appreciating dress. Why not? Were not
these men the great innovators in modern dressing?
and are not men still the great artists in costume?
Madame la baronne prepares herself in one of the little
saloons. First of all come the skirts and the
young ladies who preside over the fabrication of the
dessous, or underclothing, for it is an axiom
in modern French dress-making that half the success
of the toilet depends on the underclothing, or, as
the French put it in their neat way, “Le
dessous est pour la moitie dans la reussite du dessus.”
Then follows the tying of the skirt of the dress,
which is suspended on hooks round the bottom of the
corset, the buttoning of the corsage, the preliminary
tapping and caressing necessary to make the folds of
the skirt sit well, and then madame la baronne makes
her appearance triumphantly before her friends assembled
in the adjoining saloon. The great artist himself
deigns to contemplate the finished work. Standing
off at some distance, so as to take in the general
effect, as if he were examining a picture, he gazes
upon the dress with impassible eyes, and then, after
a Napoleonic silence, during which all present hold