Summer has come for a very brief visit this year, and now the cool autumn breezes are warning us that, in a few weeks, we must cast aside our floating voiles, our tennis linens and our sweeping hats—in favour of the warmer smartness of tweeds, berets and scarves. Autumn, that season of sudden changes—with its winds and its splendid riot of colours, demands from us—whose sphere it is to be always decorative and “a la mode”—a brightness in our apparel. A touch of red, gold and russet brown, of greens, warmer bronze and flecked gold. It is curious how we reflect the colour moods of Nature—how we discard the delicate pastel shades of summer, the ethereal azure blues, elusive mauves and frail sunset yellows, and become vivid, flaming—almost rebellious. Our men folk, throughout the seasons, preserve a sombre, reserved greyness which varies little with blazing summer sun and autumn cool—they have left to us the work of personal adornment no doubt believing that, of the two sexes, we are the more fitted for change—let us say the more adaptable. A quick review of our wardrobes for the autumn shows that they will be most entrancing, cheap, comfortable and possible for everyone. From Paris comes a whisper that skirts are definitely long—but not “ultra” for day and street wear. Surely we are too sensible to adopt a foolish fashion where hems touch the pavement—especially in our boisterous and unsympathetic climate. The “trailing” robe is perfect for a ball room, or a bridge party, but nothing looks more absurd and is more uncomfortable for a day's shopping or office work. We must be practical—and at the same time fashionable. Let our skirts, then, for this autumn be about half-way down the calf—not any longer.

The three-piece tweed suit is a necessity for every girl, and is very easily made—you will find it extremely useful for countless occasions—and it will always look smart, provided that you are particular about your general colour scheme. Skirts are to be made again on hip yokes—belted and buckled—with as many pleats as you desire. Coats, still of the same tweed, are nearly as long as the skirt and seem to be worn more without belts than last autumn. The chic little tweed hat, brimless and close-fitting is very easily made—patterns can be bought everywhere—finally a soft silk shirt or light woollen jumper and a bright, light floating scarf, and you will page 58 be ready to sally forth into the autumn winds, looking smart, cosy and thoroughly in sympathy with moody Mother Nature.

“It is not everyone who realises that it is neglect, and not work, that ruins the hands. A little Sydal, the well-known Hand Emollient, rubbed in each night will counteract the ill-effects of housework and gardening, and keep the hands smooth and soft.”