unpleasant. But the owner feels naught but pride in its ownership, for it is a good skin, impervious alike to the ravages of sun and rain—and its style is exactly like that of the other women in the tribe.
Now let us stand for a moment on a comer of Fifth Avenue, New York's famous avenue of fashion. We see a modern young woman on her way to the theater. From the tips of her French-heeled slippers to the jaunty little hat on her head, she is—perfect. Her gown seems to express in every line the story of her own personality. The color-scheme might well have been invented by Mother Nature herself. The wrap she wears is of sable furs—but how different from the furs of her sister of ancient days! Each skin is exquisitely glossed and dressed, and the whole matched to perfection.
Another young woman passes. She is differently attired in trig tailored suit and smart toque. A business girl. Also perfect. And countless others, streaming endlessly along the wide avenue, men and women, defying in the expression of their own taste and individuality, the decrees of fashion; interpreting silks, cottons, fabrics and furs to harmonize with their own particular personalities, and the story of civilization is told in the clothes they wear.
THE DAWN OF FASHION
It was Cowper who said, "While the world lasts, Fashion will lead it by the nose." And really, hasn't Fashion been a stern monarch throughout the ages? It commanded the Chinese women to have tiny feet—and tiny feet they had to have although it meant months of torture to the young child. It commanded the monstrous
