The Problems Of Katrine.

“Tatrine worries me,” said her mother. “She's a dear girl, but she's going through a difficult stage—the latest trouble is clothes.”

I knew Katrine. Earlier, about eight or so, she won my interest—a little, compact thing, well-built, but with an elfin aspect due to the pointed chin and mischievous eyes twinkling below a dark fringe of hair. For years, while her father was working in another town, I had not seen Katrine; but now they were back again, and her mother and I had resumed the old friendship. At first glance I hardly knew Katrine, a leggy young lady in her second year at high school. But though the fringe was gone and her hair brushed away from a middle parting, the eyes at times showed the old glint—only at times though. One had to watch and wait for it. The chin, delightfully recognizable, showed a firmness one had not noted at eight-to-nine.

“I'm not really worrying about her,” said her mother, “but I should really like to settle one part of the problem, that of clothes. During the winter she seemed quite happy in her school clothes, but now summer is here she has been worrying me at week-ends. She doesn't like the little summer frocks I make for her, and hates the idea of a plain panama hat for best. Now I always think a girl at the growing stage looks best in plain things. And shoes! I took her to buy some white shoes. We bought a very nice pair, low-heeled and round toed, with an ankle strap. But the grizzles when we got home. Of course, I'd switched her away from the high heels she coveted and she resented it. And about her frocks, too. You know I have always made the children's clothes. Well, she has decided she doesn't like the dresses I make for her. I can hardly make her stand still for a fitting.”

Poor Katrine! Poor Mother! Of course, the influence of older sister, now in an office job, was partly to blame. Katrine, now conscious of appearances, admired and wished to copy her sister's grown-up wardrobe.

I did what I could. I suggested that it was a matter for compromise. As regards frocks, knowing that Katrine was taking a dressmaking course at school, I advised co-operation. Between us, the mother and I concocted a plan, and this is how it worked out.

In a talk that seemed to happen in quite a casual way, the mother suggested that Katrine was quite old enough to plan her own wardrobe, and that it would be an excellent idea if she helped with the sewing as well as the planning. Katrine seemed not too enthusiastic at first, but when it came to a shopping expedition she perked up and approached the pattern counter with confidence. The array of styles rather bewildered her, but Mother stood by offering no comments. Katrine turned pages and made one or two remarks about the pictured styles. Mother was non-committal. Katrine puzzled some more, and seemed to waver between three frocks. Still Mother did not offer an opinion. It was only when Katrine asked for advice that Mother said which style appealed to her and gave reasons. Katrine was grateful for the helpful remarks and chose the style indicated.

Having bought a pattern, Katrine wondered what material she would choose. Mother pointed out that suggestions were given on the pattern envelope. Katrine read them—silk crepe, taffeta, shantung, novelty cottons, light-weight wools.

“They seem so different,” said Katrine.

“Yes,” said her Mother. “They are—on purpose. The style you chose is suitable for an afternoon frock for either summer or winter, for sports or for beach wear with short sleeves. You decide what you need the frock for and choose the material to suit.”

“Oh, I see,” said Katrine in a relieved tone, and proceeded to the cottons department to choose a print that was just right for beach picnics. Mother was so pleased with the suitability and economy of her choice that she thereupon offered her another dress-length.

In the making, of course, Mother did most of the work, but Katrine was eagerly helpful. The finished frock was a success, and the two embarked on the second dress-length—a pretty silk crepe for “best.”

Somehow the hat problem melted away. In studying styles and materials Katrine had recognised the value of simplicity, and when it came to buying a hat she chose a wide-brimmed straw with a plain ribbon trimming.

A family discussion (engineered by me one night when I was there to tea) on feet, high heels, pointed toes and the resultant corns and bunions, influenced Katrine's footwear ideas in the right direction.

Now Katrine's mother says that the complete solving of one problem has somehow helped with the other problems resultant to the process of “growing-up.”