awake, the short skirt, the jacket, into the
pockets of which she is very apt to thrust her
hands, you will generally find her sayings curt,
her laugh loud, and her talk not a little inclining
to slang.

We applaud a connoisseur who buys a picture
because it is a beautiful piece of colour. Why
should we not have these charming combinations
in women's dress? How often a little bit of
scarlet velvet, well placed, gives value and tone
to the dress! When the eye is cultivated, it is
as irritable as a musical ear, and equally pained by
discord. In many pictures, the sole charm arises
from harmony of colour—a harmony which the
eye drinks in with delight. The French have an
innate sense of colour; we see this, in all the
trifles that adorn their shops; a little box is
painted with two colours which are so
harmonious, that it is a delight to look at them. The
English choose two colours, but as long as they
are opposed to each other, they consider that
sufficient; but these, being often discords, give
pain.

As you look from your window in Paris,
observe the first fifty women who pass;
forty have noses depressed in the middle,
a small quantity of dark hair, and a swarthy
complexion; but then, what a toilette! Not only
suitable for the season, but to the age and
complexion of the wearer. How neat the feet and
hands! How well the clothes are put on, and,
more than all, how well they suit each other.
Not one colour swearing at another colour. We
have been imitating the French for centuries in
the matter of dress; yet, how little we have
succeeded in learning from them? If we were asked
what would secure success in dress, we should
answer, Freshness, before all things; better a
clean muslin than tumbled satin. A lady once
held up a collar and said, "Is it soiled?"
"Yes." "Why, you never looked at it." "No;
but if there is any doubt, it is soiled."

You ought never to buy an article because
you can afford it. The question is, whether it is
suitable to your position, habits, and the rest of
your wardrobe. There are certain clothes that
require a carriage to be worn in, and are quite
unfit for walking in the streets. Above all, do
not buy wearing apparel because it is miscalled
cheap. There is no such thing; cheap clothes
are dear wear. The article is unsaleable because
it is either ugly, vulgar, or entirely out of date.
One reason why you see colours ill-arranged,
is, that the different articles are purchased each
for its own imagined virtues, and without any
thought of what it is to be worn with. Women,
while shopping, buy what pleases the eye on the
counter, forgetting what they have got at
home. That parasol is pretty, but it will
kill by its colour one dress in the buyer's
wardrobe, and be unsuitable for all others. An
enormous sum of money is spent yearly upon
women's dress; yet how seldom a dress is so
arranged as to give the beholder any pleasure!
To be magnificently dressed certainly costs
money; but, to be dressed with taste, is not
expensive. It requires good sense, knowledge,
refinement. We have seen foolish gowns,
arrogant gowns. Women are too often tempted to
imitate the dress of each other, without
considering

      The difference of climate and complexion.

The colours which go best together, are green
with violet; gold colour with dark crimson or
lilac; pale blue with scarlet; pink with black
or white; and grey with scarlet or pink. A
cold colour generally requires a warm tint to
give life to it. Grey and pale blue, for instance,
do not combine well, both being cold colours.

The first inquiry you must make, if you wish
to be well dressed, is into your defects of figure
and complexion. Your beauties you are already
sufficiently well acquainted with. You are
short: you should not wear flounces, nor stripes
going round the figure. You are fat: don't wear
a check. You have high shoulders: avoid a shawl,
which is very graceful when well put on by a
tall woman, but ugly when dragged across the
bosom as if to hide an untidy gown. To look
well, a shawl must be large; no arrangement can
make a small shawl look well.

All imitations are bad. They deceive no one,
and, the first gloss having passed off, they stand
revealed for what they are: not for what they
pretend to be. Let the cotton be cotton, and
not pretend to be silk. A velvet dress is a
prudent purchase. It never looks too fine, and,
with the addition of lace and flowers, is suitable
for any occasion. It is, of all materials, the
most becoming to the skin. Satin is not so,
because more glossy than the skin itself; so
diamonds, being brighter than the eyes, serve
to dim rather than to brighten them.

It is impossible to speak too strongly on the
subject of selecting colours that suit the
complexion and hair. White and black are safe
wear, but the latter is not favourable to dark or
pale complexions. Pink is, to some skins, the
most becoming: not, however, if there is much
colour in the cheeks and lips; and if there be
even a suspicion of red in either hair or
complexion. Peach colour is perhaps one of the
most elegant colours worn. We still think with
pleasure of Madame d'Arblay's Camille in a
dress of peach-coloured silk, covered with India
muslin, and silver ribbons. We forgive her
for having run into debt for it. Maize is very
becoming, particularly to persons with dark hair
and eyes. Whatever the colour or material of the
entire dress, the details are all in all: the lace
round the bosom and sleeves, the flowers,—in
fact, all that furnishes the dress. Above all, the
ornaments in the head must harmonise with the
dress. If trimmed with black lace, some of the
same should be worn in the head, and the flowers
that are worn in the hair should decorate the
dress.

Ornaments should never be merely and
evidently worn as ornaments. Jewels, flowers, and
bows, should do some duty. They should either
loop up a skirt, or fasten on lace, tulle, &c. There
should be some reason for placing them; a
bow of ribbon that has no mission, is a fault.