Pittsburg dispatch. [volume] (Pittsburg [Pa.]) 1880-1923, 1890-04-06

stockings, telling them how to dress? Here
is mission for some woman of brains. 1t
is an incontrovertible fact that writing for
money or glory too often carries with it let
tiers patent to dress outrageously. Ihe
literary sisters generally go in for originality
and turn out absurdity and eccentriclty
combined.
There Is one young writer in town whose
fearful and wonderful gowns are the laugh
ing stock of everybody who knows her. The
poor girl thinks she is picturesque, and SO
wears the most startling and abominable
Of costumes. When she first came she wore
a ring on her first finger. Some one told her
to call it in, but no one has been kind
enough to curb her decorative propensitles
in any other direction, and now whenever
she walks abroad she is sight for gods and
men. Her faring hats and her low-cut
gowns just beat all. II she would restrain
her picturesque proclivities and be content
to dress as ordinary mortals, she wouldn't
be half bad looking. AS it is she Is
horror.
AT THE woMAN's PRESS CLUB.
There is a fashion writer whose frocks and
bonnets set your teeth on edge, and as for a
certain poetess Of passion who goes in for
the aesthetic, you simply wish you were
inan iot dUoub i've uiuutcs bHds you LAishb
rail profaneiy at her execrable raiment.
In all the various New York literary cliques
the tastefully and correctly dressed writer
is an anomaly. At the Woman's Press
Club reception, the other night, how many
well-dressed women did we see? We could
count them on the fingers of one hand.
Think of the best paid woman editor in
town wearing guy Of gown and hat
"Who's that lady with the trimming?"
asked man the moment she entered the
room.
That was it-she was all trimming. She
is good looking, and with her salary ought
to be a good dresser. There were a half
dozen ladies dressed like servants. Bedad.
Mary Ann on her Sunday out would make a
better appearance. One pretty writer who ap-
too small for her head, and ridiculous scar
in the room should see, was simply curios-
ity.
SOME OTHER SHOWS.
A lot of the women of course wore the
everlasting black silk up to the ears. In no
gown does our sex look more uninteresting.
Another writer ambling around in trained
red velvet looked as if she had escaped from
some Shakespearean show. There is no
sense in literary women rigging themselves
out in such fashion. They ought to pay
some attention to fashion, and help remove
the justifsble idea that they know abso-
lutely nothing about dress.
Next neighbor to the badly dressed liter
airy woman is the Delsarte fright. The
other night at the Brunswick Just before
the reading of Mr.. Miller's clever paper on
the Demand and Supply of Modern Liter
ature" before the Goethe Club, in walked a
well-known woman in an outlandish gown.
Her little face under its halo of towsled
black hair rose from a high-necked gown of
putty colored plush. She was guiltless of
corsets, and her frock was loose in front and
Watteaued in the back.
SHE CREATED A SENSATION.
she had just gotten out of bed, thrown on
dressing gown and cap and started for the
Brunswick. There was a hush in the room
as the exponent of art in dress entered, and
then furious gabble.
"Great Scottr' heard a man say, "I
wouldn't travel around with that if it were
shut up in hand bag"
She certainly looked like the Witch of
Endor, and yet she is supposed to know it
all.
Women capable of exploits are nuisance,
and one of the riding academies has had to
shut out disciple of straddle-saddlers for
equestriennes. She was professional dress
reformer, and sought advertisement through
immodesty. She urged that there would be
novelty, but no offense, in the sight of a
woman on horseback man-fashion. The
manager replied that usage made the differ
ence, and that he wouldn't risk the shock to
the spectators. CLARA BELLE.