"Yes. The designer ought to study the use to which the dress is to be put and then plan it accordingly. Then she ought to make it suit the person who is to wear it."
"That point seems to be forgotten nowadays when grandmothers and mothers and daughters all wear the same ready-made dresses. The only difference in them is the size."
"They ought to be suitable for the age of the wearer and for her size and shape. If you put a tall woman's dress on a short, fat woman she looks foolish. The lines of the costume ought to bring out the good points of the wearer's figure and make you forget her bad points."
"That means that your mother ought to wear long, flowing lines because she is short and I can wear a tunic if I want to because I am so tall and thin that I can afford to have a few inches seemingly cut off me."
"Then there's coloring. I can wear almost any color because I'm rather indefinite; I just have to be particular about getting the right shade. But there are certain colors that Margaret can't wear at all on account of her auburn hair—"
"And certain color schemes that she can work out splendidly just because of her auburn hair."
"Doesn't she look pretty in that all brown suit of hers? And she's got a dress of a queer shade of yellow that is just exactly right with her hair and brown eyes. When she wears all those browns and yellows she looks like Autumn."
"We'll see you coming out as Madame Hélène and presiding over a big New York dressmaking establishment," smiled Mrs. Emerson.
"I don't believe you will; but I do think there's plenty of opportunity for a real artist in designing dresses, and I wish more girls went into it instead of into teaching."
"Teaching and sewing used to be the only occupations that were thought to be suitable for women when I was young."