Some of the new English underclothing is very light and good, and claims to be of pure merino-wool. It is of varying thickness, and many ladies, both young and old, are adopting it for combinations; these and one petticoat forming the whole of the clothing. Of course, the thickness of these garments is to be suited to the season, and the gossamer clothing manufactured for the warm season leaves nothing to be desired in its lightness and apparent coolness.
BY THE LAKE SIDE WITH THE BOATS.
One does not associate thick materials with great heat, and the mere look of thick wool would make one begin to feel hot, however foolish it may sound to say so. When the skin becomes used to wearing wool it will be found more comfortable than either cotton or linen, and we, moreover, avoid the chance of chills after being over-heated. I know several people who date their almost perfect immunity from colds to the use of woollen underclothing, who previously had been martyrs to colds and coughs, and had been constantly imprisoned in the house during quite mild seasons. In England the climate (need I say so?) is fickle and changeable, and, singular to say, we may be, and many people are, apparently wrapped up carefully and seasonably, and yet we may all err on every hygienic point, in regard to the weight and porosity of materials.
So far as I can see in the newest styles, the loose-fronted bodices have it all their own way. Many of them only fasten at the throat and waist, either large buttons or handsome clasps being used. These jackets stretch open over the front to show a full waistcoat, this latter being a scarf long enough to continue below the waist and round it at either side, so as to form a sort of sash, showing under the edge of the bodice and ending under the long coat-tails at the back in ends or a bow.
The newest bonnets are still high in the front, or, if not high themselves, the trimmings are high. The horseshoe crowns which were introduced in the summer bid fair to become extremely popular, and the stringless bonnet will be in vogue as long as possible, and I have no doubt many people will wear it through the winter, too. Beaver bonnets are announced to take the place of kid or felt, and I have seen some black beaver crowns with open-work jet fronts, which appeared incongruous.
Leaves of all bright hues, the bramble and its berries, the blackberry, and the virginian-creeper, are likely to be in great favour for trimmings this autumn. These will be used even upon velvet and beaver bonnets.
There is a very strong feeling in many quarters in favour of restoring the "princess" cut of dress to favour. In a letter from a lady, it is very wisely said, in writing to a contemporary, "For active exercise, a dress ought to be cut all in one—'princess,' as the milliners call it—and so arranged in the skirt that there is no drapery which will catch in things, come unstitched, and look untidy; everything wants to be taut and trim, like tailor's work. But even the ladies' tailors will insist upon making a skirt and little jacket-bodice, instead of a dress in one piece. It is almost impossible to use the arms freely—to go out in a sailing-boat, for instance, and help in its management—or, in fact, to raise the arms high, without causing a hiatus between the two parts of the garment at the sides of the waist. I have noticed this happen so often, even with smart tailor-made gowns, the wearer being generally blissfully unconscious of the accident, that I feel bound to draw attention to it.
"It was curious to note the awful revelations made recently by a storm of wind on an elevated promenade by the sea. Every steel stood out in bold relief even under the most bouffante drapery. Upper-skirts broke away from the under, and displayed the sorry fact that the latter were only shams, formed of lining-calico, with patches of good material put in here and there, where the over-garment was cut open. One neat tailor-gown revealed the cotton back to the pretty waistcoat, a pretence which is carried out in every suit of clothes made for men, but which seemed an aggravated offence to art in a well-dressed woman. It was comforting to turn from such sartorial mistakes to a group of young girls sensibly clad in simple gowns, guiltless of pretence, of steels, or tournures. Gathered bodices and full plain skirts, confined by broad sashes, combined the elements of grace and utility, and exhibited no foolish attempt to distort and pervert nature."
I have given the full extract, as it contains much matter for thought for my readers, both young and middle-aged. I suppose everyone read with interest the celebration of the centenary of M. Chevreul, the great French chemist, who has been for years a great student of colour, and to whom we owe many alterations, inventions, and suggestions in dyes and colours. Trade has been assisted and developed by his researches, and the subject of colour harmonies has been placed by him in the position and basis of a science. When we admire the loveliness of our coloured materials, and notice the wonderful improvements of late years, we women may thank the industry and talent of M. Chevreul. I put in a long quotation from him some months ago, and it may interest some of my readers to hear that M. Chevreul has attained his hundredth year as a total abstainer, but drank his own health in a glass of champagne, tasted for the first time!