The New Zealand Railways Magazine, Volume 7, Issue 1 (May 1, 1932.)

Poise

Poise.

Have you ever listened in amusement to your grandmother describing “her young days”—how she tied her exquisitely worded love-letters with blue ribbon —how she thrilled with the excitement of a new dress—how she was made to walk for hours with a book on her demure little head to secure a “graceful carriage”—how she sat in a straight-backed chair and never lounged gracelessly against the mantel piece, for all the world like a dashing young man? You smiled at their efforts to gain that indefinable poise, but you had to admire the grace with which they sailed into a ballroom—the confidence with which they descended the stairs or charmingly dominated a drawing-room.

It has been the fashion lately to cultivate a careless slouch—and many a young twentieth century Diana has deliberately slouched her straight little back in an effort to acquire the necessary boyish swagger and air of reckless defiance demanded by Fashion. And now—with the advent of curls, and frills, and muffs and femininity she is finding it tremendously difficult to be graceful. It is absurd, she knows, to stride blithely whistling in a semi-crinoline, to cross one leg carelessly over her knee, to perch jauntily on tables or lounge indolently in armchairs. She must have “poise.” And how to gain it —that is the question! Being adaptable, and a natural actress, she will cultivate grace with all the enthusiasm with which she once courted a deliberate gaucherie.

A pretty face is not even half the battle now-a-days—and many people quite ignore the charm which lies in posture—how you walk, how you stand, how you sit—so seemingly trivial, yet so indescribably fascinating. There are some people whose every movement you love to watch, even if they are ironing, making a cake, or executing any mundane little task—for they have a natural beauty of movement.

Hundreds of men will tell you how an attitude will impress itself indelibly upon the mind— you standing by the window, you walking down the stairs to meet him, you sitting by a dreamy fire, you stooping to pick a flower, or reaching up to hang clothes on the line. This poise, this grace of movement can be yours with little trouble—think of it constantly in every thing you do—and “the poetry of motion” will become a habit.