A better custom in theaters large and modern enough to have ample dressing-rooms is for the woman to remove all her wraps there. The house looks much prettier than when each woman is piled with her belongings, the woman is more comfortable, and she has had besides the opportunity of a glance in the mirror at her hair. If she is at all sensitive to drafts she may prefer to take a light scarf with her as when the curtain rises there is often a very cold air, especially on those sitting close to the stage. In most cities in this country women do not wear full dress unless they are to sit in a box.
At all evening entertainments a woman’s head is uncovered. A woman who retains her hat even when sitting in a box inevitably suggests that she wishes to be conspicuous. If a woman is invited to be one of a box-party she need not bother to go to the dressing-room, as in most cases each box has hooks on which cloaks may be hung and a mirror convenient for the single glance that is desired.
The same rules hold good with regard to a musicale or a concert.
TALKING AT A CONCERT
I wish there were any chance that anything anybody might say could impress on women that their habit of talking or, worse still, whispering, during a musical performance is abominably rude! Let those who have suffered by this almost universal practise testify to the misery it causes. To have one’s favorite passage from a beloved composer marred by “Now this is where he dies, you know,” or “Just hear the thunder in that orchestra, and now just listen to the chirping of the dear little birds!” or,—“I don’t think I can lunch with you to-morrow, dear, but perhaps the next day,” “Do you think those long coats are becoming to short women?”—who that has undergone the agony of being in the vicinity of such a talker can fail to utter a fervent “Amen” to the frenzied petition that they be suppressed.
The person who has seen the play before and who obligingly keeps his neighbors informed of what is coming next is an equal offender.
WHEN AMERICA IS PLAYED