The Man Who Pleases and the Woman Who Charms

by John A. Cone

The statement, often made, that women dress well only to please the men, is only a fraction of the truth.

They dress to please the men; to please one another, and to please themselves. Which of these three motives is the strongest depends upon the individual, for,—"while there are men and men, there are women and women and women," and it is absurd to make any attempt to analyze motives or to formulate principles which will apply to all women.

The men who dress well do it for the women and for themselves. The effect that their apparel has upon others of their own sex, gives men but little concern. If all the women should be taken from the world tailors would at once lose half their business, for the men would immediately begin to wear out their old clothes.

As a rule, few men care very much for fine clothes for their own sake, but a love of dress is natural in woman, and one who exhibits indifference in regard to her personal appearance convicts herself of either indolence, self-righteousness or pedantry. A woman who has not some natural taste in dress, who does not take a positive delight in combinations of colors, who is not fond of fine apparel for its own sake, is an anomaly.

Men do not notice details of a woman's dress. Few know enough about the subject to distinguish cheese-cloth from point d'esprit. The description in detail of a new gown as given in a fashion journal is about as intelligible to the average man as the inscriptions on an Assyrian tablet.

They accept the woman as a whole, and consider her, and what she has on, as one harmonious, homogeneous, unanalyzable completeness. If you doubt this ask a man to tell you how a certain lady was dressed at a reception he attended the evening before. Perhaps he noticed her particularly while there, and told you at the time that she was becomingly attired. He may be able to tell you that she wore a pink waist, or that the prevailing color of her costume was blue, but there his knowledge of the subject ends.

While it is true that men give but little thought to the details of a woman's dress, unless it is conspicuously bad, very many of them know whether she is becomingly attired or not. While they may have no clear idea as to whether the material of a gown cost five cents or five dollars a yard, or whether the gown itself is quite in fashion, they know whether the owner carries it well, and whether the material, style and color are becoming to her. Perhaps, on the whole, a man of good taste is a better judge than a woman as to whether she is becomingly dressed. This is because they regard the subject from entirely different standpoints. The stylishly gowned woman is, to the average woman, well dressed, but not necessarily so to the man. It is a perpetual wonder to some men why women have not the courage to reject certain combinations and certain styles of dress that are inharmonious and ugly in themselves, and, consequently, unbecoming to the one who wears them.

Years ago certain colors were thought to be becoming to certain types of women. There was an undisputed tradition in regard to the colors which the blonde should wear, and also what ones were becoming to the brunette. This was not a dictate of fashion; it was a fact ascertained by experience. Of late these traditions have been disregarded by fashion, and the stylish woman wears any color or combination she pleases, but often at the sacrifice of her good looks.

Fashion cannot change the laws of cause and effect—the laws of harmony—and if the decided brunette chooses to wear colors which are becoming only to blondes she does it at the expense of half her natural beauty. Men feel this and wonder what is amiss.

A few years ago fashion made quite common a style of sailor hat with diminutive crown made in the shape of an hour-glass. They were ugly in themselves, and when perched upon the head detracted from the beauty of any face. Nothing could be more ridiculous than the sight of a stout, tall girl, with broad hips and prominent features, marching along the street with her head surmounted by that parody on the most becoming of all hats for a young woman—the sailor. One at once called to mind the dice-box which the negro minstrel wears to make himself appear as funny as possible. One man wittily characterized them as "the hats that wore corsets." Men never liked them, but thousands of them were worn.