every individual to do the best he or she can for himself or herself in this matter.[1]
I had long suspected this, but I was startlingly convinced of the truth of it when, while writing this book, I made it my business to visit most of the important suppliers of dress in London. Almost everywhere I was covertly met with the same principle, "The public will buy whatever we choose them to, so why should we put ourselves to trouble and expense in order that they may have good and healthy things?"
The moral of this is obvious; the public must no longer take things on trust, but must itself learn to discriminate between good and bad, and by rejecting the latter, force those who are, after all, dependent upon it, to supply what is really good. When tradespeople see that the public will no longer be imposed upon, a higher system of trade morality will of necessity be evolved.
Although each individual should modify his or her customs, both in other things and in dress, to suit the peculiarities of each individual case, there are certain broad principles which apply to all alike, and these cannot be more clearly stated than in the words of an old writer, who in the Gentleman's Magazine in the year 1738 laid down the following canons of beauty:—
- ↑ In reference to my remarks on pp. 190-1, I may here add that in self-defence every lady ought to know how to make a dress, and I can thoroughly recommend the Anglo-Parisian School of Dressmaking, Academy House, 295, Oxford Street, W., to those who wish to learn the art.
