I would rather have a young fellow too much than too little dressed;
the excess on that side will wear off, with a little age and reflection;
but if he is negligent at twenty, he will be a sloven at forty and
intolerable at sixty. Dress yourself fine where others are fine, and
plain where others are plain; but take care always that your clothes are
well made and fit you, for otherwise they will give you a very awkward
air.
—Chesterfield.
One is judged first by his dress but this judgment is not final. A
better index is his speech. It is said that one can tell during a
conversation that lasts not longer than a summer shower whether or not a
man is cultivated. Often it does not take even so long, for a raucous
tone of voice and grossly ungrammatical or vulgar expressions brand a
man at once as beyond the pale of polite society.
No point of social etiquette is quite so valuable as this one of speech.
As one goes forth he is weighed in the balance and if he is found
wanting here he is quietly dropped by refined and cultured people, and
nearly always he is left wondering why with his diamonds and his motors
and his money he yet cannot find entrée into the inner circles where
he would most like to be. Money does not buy everything. If it were
possible for it to do so there would be no proverb to the effect that it
takes three generations to make a gentleman. And the proverb itself is
not more than half true. If the attitude of mind is that of one who
honestly wants to develop himself to the highest possible point,
mentally, morally, and spiritually, it can be done in much less than a
single generation. Of course, much depends upon one's definition of what
constitutes a gentleman but for the purpose of this book we mean a man
of education, high principles, honor, courtesy, and kindness.
There is an old Italian proverb that says, "He who has a tongue in his
head can go all the world over." But it is not enough merely to have a
tongue in one's head. That tongue must have a certain distinct appeal
before it becomes the weapon before which all the barriers of social
success vanish.
We have all heard the expression, "The magic power of words." Is it a
magic power? Or to be more explicit, is conversation an art or a gift?
The answer must certainly be an art, for nature never gives that which
study accomplishes. And by study you can become a master of speech—you
can make words a veritable torch, illuminating you and your
surroundings. But words alone mean very little. It is the grouping of
words, expressions, phrases; the combination of thoughts that make real
conversation.
"In the beginning of the world," said Xanthes, "primitive man was
contented to imitate the language of the animals." But as we study the
evolution of human nature, we find that man was not long content to
imitate the sounds of the animals in the forests. He found the need to
express himself, his sensations, his thoughts, in more definite and
satisfactory manner. He wanted to share his joys with his neighbors, and
he wanted to tell others about his sorrows. And so, nature in her wise
judgment, decreed that he should speak, and in his speech should convey
his thoughts and ideas to those who listened.
We do not think of these things to-day when we "chatter" aimlessly among
ourselves, caring little whether or not we make the most of that
wonderful power bestowed upon us. Yes, speech is a power. It is a most
effective weapon, not only to social success, but to the very success of
life, if one does not ignore the power of its influence. And that is the
purpose of the following paragraphs—to help you realize and profit by
the powers of speech and conversation.
It is strange, but true, that the spirit of conversation is often more
important than the ideas expressed. This is especially true in social
circles. Since speech is never used in solitude, we may take it for
granted that the spoken word is an expression of the longing for human
sympathy. Thus, it is a great accomplishment to be able to enter gently
and agreeably into the moods and feelings of others, and to cultivate
the feelings of sympathy and kindness.
Early in the seventeenth century the causerie (chat) was highly
esteemed in France. This was a meeting, at the Hotel Rambouillet, of the
great nobles, literary people, and intelligent and brilliant women of
France, gathered together for the definite purpose of conversation—of
"chatting." Among these people, representing the highest intellectual
class in France at the time, there developed the taste for daily
talks—the tendency of which was toward profound, refined and elegant
intercourse according to the standards of that day, and the criticisms
offered by the members had a certain influence on the manners and
literature of the epoch.
Many years have passed since those days of harmonious gatherings, but we
mention them here to draw the comparison between those delightful
gatherings of long ago, and our own drawing-rooms and social circles
where brilliant men and women gather and converse on topics of immediate
interest. If one has imagination, a striking similarity can be noticed
between the two.
There is a certain charm in correct speech, a certain beauty in correct
conversation. And it is well worth striving for.
A Crow Indian once said to Dr. Lowie, "You Whites show no respect to
your sisters. You talk to them." Other instances of how respect and
courtesy can be shown in conversation, is found in the traditions and
present-day practices of other countries.
In China, for instance, a young man will not introduce into
conversation, a topic which has not already been touched upon by his
elders. On the Fiji Islands, a woman does not talk to her mother-in-law,
and among the Sioux, a young man does not talk at all unless someone
else addresses him. These signs of courtesy in conversation have a
certain distinct significance in the countries where they are practiced.
Courtesy is the very foundation of all good conversation. Good speech
consists as much in listening politely as in talking agreeably. Someone
has said, very wisely, "A talker who monopolizes the conversation is by
common consent insufferable, and a man who regulates his choice of
topics by reference to what interests not his hearers but himself has
yet to learn the alphabet of the art." To be agreeable in conversation,
one must first learn the law of talking just enough, of listening
politely while others speak, and of speaking of that in which one's
companions are most interested.
There was a time when bluntness of manner was excused on the ground that
the speaker was candid, frank, outspoken. People used to pride
themselves upon the fact that in their conversation they had spoken the
truth—and hurt some one. To-day there are certain recognized courtesies
of speech, and kindliness has taken the place of candidness. There is no
longer any excuse for you to say things in your conversation that will
cause discomfort or pain to anyone of your hearers.
One should never interrupt unless there is a good reason for it and then
it should be done with apologies. It is not courteous to ask a great
many questions and personal ones are always taboo. One should be careful
not to use over and over and over again the same words and phrases and
one should not fall in the habit of asking people to repeat their
remarks. Argument should be avoided and contradicting is always
discourteous. When it seems that a heated disagreement is about to ensue
it is wise tactfully to direct the conversation into other channels as
soon as it can be done without too abrupt a turn, for to jerk the talk
from one topic to another for the obvious purpose of "switching someone
off the track" is in itself very rude.
Let your proverb be, "Talk well, but not too much."
Ruskin said, "Vulgarity is indicated by coarseness of language." By
language he meant not only words and phrases, but coarseness of voice.
There can be nothing more characteristic of good breeding than a soft,
well-modulated, pleasing voice. This quotation from Demosthenes is only
another way of saying it: "As a vessel is known by the sound whether it
is cracked or not, so men are proved by their speeches whether they be
wise or foolish."
Conversation should be lively without noise. It is not well-bred to be
demonstrative in action while speaking, to talk loudly, or to laugh
boisterously. Conversation should have less emphasis, and more
quietness, more dignified calmness. Some of us are so eager, in our
determination to be agreeable in conversation, to dominate the entire
room with our voice, that we forget the laws of good conduct. And we
wonder why people consider us bores.
Don't be afraid to open your mouth when you talk. First know what you
want to say, be sure that it is worth saying, and then say it calmly,
confidently, through your mouth and not through your nose. Too many
people talk through tightly closed teeth and then wonder why people
don't understand them. Enunciate clearly and give to your vowels and
consonants the proper resonance.
Another mistake to avoid is rapid speaking. To talk slowly and
deliberately, is to enhance the pleasure and beauty of the conversation.
Rapidity in speech results in indistinctness, and indistinctness leads
invariably to monotony.
There are two languages of speech—voice and gesture. Voice appeals to
the ear, gesture to the eye. It is an agreeable combination of the two
that makes conversation pleasant.
"A really well-bred man," a writer once said, "would speak to all kings
in the world with as little concern and as much ease as he would speak
to you." Confusion is the enemy of eloquence. Self-restraint must be
developed before one can hope to be either a good conversationalist or a
social success. To create a pleasant, harmonious atmosphere, and at the
same time to make one's ideas carry conviction, one must talk with ease
and calm assurance.
Try to be naturally courteous and cordial in your speech. It is a
mistake to "wear your feelings on your sleeve" and resent everything
that everyone else says that does not please you. To become quickly
excited, to speak harshly and sarcastically is to sacrifice one's
dignity and ease of manner. Know what you want to say, be sure you
understand it, and when you say it, be open for criticisms or
suggestions from those around you. Do not become flustered and excited
merely because someone else does not agree with you. Remember that Homer
said, "The tongue speaks wisely when the soul is wise," and surely the
soul can be wise only when one is entirely calm, self-confident and at
peace with all the world!
It is not always easy to drop the local phrases, colloquial expressions
and mannerisms to which one has been accustomed for a long time. Yet
good society does not tolerate these errors in speech. For they are
errors, according to the standards of educated men and women.
To use such phrases as "How was that" when you mean "What was that" or
"How's things" when you mean "How are you" are provincialisms which have
no place in the cultured drawing-room. One must drop all bad habits of
speech before claiming the "good English which is a passport into good
society."
Mannerisms in speech are evident in nasal expression and muffled words,
spoken through half-closed teeth. We were not meant to speak in that
unbeautiful manner, nor were we meant to gesticulate wildly as some of
our drawing-room orators persist in doing—to the amusement of everyone
else concerned. When you enter the world of good society, drop all your
colloquial phrases and mannerisms behind.
Simple expression has the same advantage over flowery language as a
simple and artistic room has over a room filled with gaudy, inharmonious
embellishments. One is effective, the other defective. And yet to
express ideas simply and correctly, with a regard for polish and poise,
one must have a good command of the language.
Make a resolve, right now, that you will never use a foreign word when
you can give its meaning in English. And also determine now, definitely,
that no matter how popular slang becomes in the less refined circles of
society, you will never use it because you know that it is the badge
of vulgarity. There is nothing quite as beautiful as good, simple
English, when it is spoken correctly.
To know the right word in the right place, to know its correct
pronunciation and spelling, there is nothing more valuable than a good
standard dictionary. If you haven't one—a new revised edition—get one
right away. You can not hope to become a pleasing conversationalist
until you own and use a good dictionary.
An excellent way to increase your vocabulary and perfect your speech is
to talk less, and listen politely while others lead the conversation.
There's a lot of truth in that old maxim, "Speech is silver, but silence
is gold!"
It was mentioned previously that the Sioux youth does not speak until he
is first spoken to. This is also true of the young Armenian woman. She
would be horrified at the idea of addressing a woman older than herself,
unless first spoken to. Many other countries observe these courtesies of
speech, with a wholesome effect upon the general culture of the people.
How often, here in our own country, even in the most highly cultivated
society, do we hear a man or woman carelessly interrupt the conversation
of another, perhaps an older person, without so much as an apology! It
is bad form, to say the least, but it is also distinctly rude. No person
of good breeding will interrupt the conversation of another no matter
how startling and remarkable an idea he may have. It will be just as
startling and remarkable a few minutes later, and the speaker will have
gained poise and confidence in the time that he waits for the chance to
speak.
Whispering in company is another bad habit that must be avoided. The
drawing-room or reception room is no place for personal secrets or
hidden bits of gossip. The man or woman commits a serious breach in good
conduct by drawing one or two persons aside and whispering something to
them.
Be careful not to give too strong an expression of your likes and
dislikes. To master this important point of speech, it is wise to
examine carefully and frankly all your opinions before expressing them
in words. It is necessary that you understand yourself, before you are
able to make others understand you.
In carrying on a conversation in a public place be sure to keep the
voice modulated and do not mention the names of people about whom you
are talking in such a way that anyone overhearing the conversation by
chance could identify them. It is best to avoid all personal talk when
one is in public.
The person who is always trying to set other people right does not use
tact. If they wanted assistance, they would probably ask. People are
sensitive, and they do not like to have their shortcomings commented
upon by others.
Ask questions only if you are gifted with great tact. Otherwise you are
bound to create embarrassing situations. If you do ask questions, make
them of a general character, rather than personal. But never be curious,
because people resent inquisitiveness—and rightly so, for it is a very
undesirable trait to have, and each person has a right to privacy.
Never talk for mere talking's sake. Speak only when you have something
to say, and then talk quietly, deliberately and with sincerity. Never
criticize, antagonize or moralize—and your company will be sought by
everyone.
If you mumble over your words and have difficulty in pronouncing
clearly, you will find it a great help to talk very slowly and take deep
breaths between each two or three words. For stammering, deep breathing
is also suggested before uttering the words upon which one is most
likely to come to grief.
Self-consciousness is the result of exaggerated humility. If you
concentrate upon what you are saying, and forget all about how you are
saying it, you will forget your shyness. Respect yourself, have
confidence in yourself—and nervousness and shyness in conversation will
vanish.
Lisping is a matter of defective speech, and although reading aloud and
dramatic recitations help, it is best to consult a specialist if
ordinary methods fail to prevent it. Such habits as hesitation,
coughing, or groping for a word, are often forms of nervousness and a
little will-power exerted in the right direction may easily control
them.
Above all, be simple and be sincere. Let interest in your subject lend
animation to your face and manner. Do not attempt to make yourself
appear brilliant and inspired, for you will only succeed in making
yourself ridiculous. Be modest, pleasant, agreeable and sympathetic, and
you will find that you win the immediate response of your audience,
whether it consists of two people or two hundred people.
In this beautiful country, filled with charming woodland scenes,
landmarks of interest, museums, schools, monuments, libraries, there is
no excuse for the man or woman who finds that he or she has "nothing to
talk about." In the newspapers every day, in books, plays, operas, even
in the advertisements and posters, there is material for interesting
conversation.
Try it the next time you meet some friends and you find that
conversation lags. Talk about something, anything, until you get
started. Talk about the sunset you saw last night, or the little
crippled boy who was selling newspapers. As long as it is something with
a touch of human interest in it, and if you tell it with the desire to
please rather than impress, your audience will be interested in your
conversation. But to remain quiet, answering only when you are spoken
to, and allowing conversation to die each time it reaches you, is a
feature of conduct belonging only to the ignorant and dull. There are
many pleasant and agreeable things to talk about—argument and
discussion have no place in the social drawing-room—and there is no
reason why you cannot find them and make use of them.
If you are forgetful, and somewhat shy in the company of others, it
might be well to jot down and commit to memory any interesting bit of
information or news that you feel would be worthy of repetition. It may
be an interesting little story, or a clever repartee, or some amusing
incident—but whatever it is, make the appeal general. It is a mistake
to talk only about those things that interest you; when Matthew Arnold
was once asked what his favorite topic for conversation was, he
answered, "That in which my companion is most interested."
Make that your ideal, and you can hardly help becoming an agreeable and
pleasing conversationalist.
The two most important guides to one's personality are one's appearance
and one's manner of speech. Centuries of experience have shown that by
means of these one may almost without exception get at least a general
idea of the sort of person that lies back of them.
Dress is the most important factor in the first impression. An honest
heart may beat beneath the ragged coat, a brilliant intellect may rise
above the bright checked suit and the yellow tie, the man in the shabby
suit may be a famous writer, the girl in the untidy blouse may be an
artist of great promise but as a general rule the chances are against it
and such people are dull, flat, stale, and unprofitable both to
themselves and to other people.
Like advertising, dress should call attention not to itself but to the
person or product which it represents so that people will say, not,
"What an attractive gown!" but "What a lovely woman!" not, "What a
well-dressed man!" but, "I think I should like to know that man."
There is more room for originality, and by the same token for
freakishness in woman's dress, and therefore the greater responsibility
is hers. Her clothes should belong to her rather than merely to the era
in which she happens to be living. This means that they must be
individual but it does not mean that they should be outlandish. Again
the golden rule of the Greeks: Moderation in all things.
The attitude of a number of people is expressed in the old limerick:
| As for looks I know I'm no star, |
| There are men better looking by far; |
| But my face I don't mind it |
| For I am behind it. |
| It's the folks out in front that I jar. |
It is worth while now and then to think of the "folks out in front," and
pity for them, if no other feeling, should inspire one to be at all
times as well dressed as is within the compass of one's means and
ability.
In the morning when he goes out to business a man should wear a plain
serviceable suit of the prevailing cut. If he is invited to an elaborate
morning entertainment he may wear the regular cutaway coat and the usual
accessories that go along with it. It is always best to follow the local
customs with regard to dress and it is absurd for one man to appear at a
formal morning affair in the cutaway coat when he knows that all of the
other gentlemen present will be in their simple business suits.
For formal afternoon affairs the cutaway is worn while for dinner in the
evening full dress is prescribed as it is for any formal entertainment
which takes place after six o'clock. To informal garden parties and
other similar affairs in the afternoon during the summer, flannels may
be worn.
There are special sporting outfits designed for the man who golfs, plays
tennis, rides or motors and the best guide to all of these is a reliable
haberdasher. It is his business to keep up with the details of dress and
since these are constantly in process of change it is obviously
impossible for a book of etiquette to lay down precise rules as to what
should be worn.
If a man is to escort a woman he should adapt his costume to hers. If
she is to wear evening dress he should also, and if he is in doubt as to
whether she is to wear evening dress or a simpler costume, he should ask
her. In many cases it rests with the individual which shall be the order
of the day.
The woman who goes to business must dress inconspicuously. Clean,
freshly laundered white shirt waists with simple dark skirts form the
best of outfits. But with laundry bills at prohibitive prices, a
substitute must be found for them for the girl in moderate
circumstances. For this reason it is more sensible to wear dark serge,
silk, or satin fashioned into severely simple frocks relieved perhaps by
white linen or organdie collars and cuffs.
The woman who entertains at home in the morning wears a simple frock of
the sort in which she may appear on the street. Similarly, in the
afternoon unless the occasion is an elaborate one, when she may wear an
elegant reception gown or an informal tea, when she may wear one of the
exquisite creations especially designed for such occasions.
There is a semi-evening dress which may be worn to afternoon affairs or
to dinner and to all evening entertainments except very elaborate ones.
For these a woman's gown should be décolleté and should be of
beautiful material. The color and design are at the discretion of the
individual but it is well to remember that those which are simplest are
most effective.
It is trite to remark that a woman's crowning glory is her hair, but it
is true. The manner in which it is arranged should depend upon the kind
of costume she is wearing. Only in the evening should she wear heavy
bandeaux, aigrettes, etc.
Scattered about elsewhere in these volumes under the theater, etc., more
details are given as to the proper kind of dress to wear. Remember this:
it is always better to be underdressed than to be overdressed.
It is interesting to note how closely the history of dress parallels the
history of civilization. With the awakening of shame came the virtue of
modesty. With modesty came the desire for clothes, and clothes brought
thoughts of higher ideals, wider desires than those merely of the
animal. Out of the desire to cover the body grew the love of decoration,
of beauty. Slowly, through the ages, as the love of beauty advanced and
was cultivated, an artistic sense developed which is the very flower of
our civilization.
Perhaps the most effective way to tell the story of dress is to make
this very striking comparison. First let us go back to the time of the
prehistoric cave-woman. In her breast the first thought of shame has
stirred, and she makes for herself a covering—a dress. She makes it of
the skin of a newly killed animal. It is raw and ugly and unpleasant.
But the owner feels naught but pride in its ownership, for it is a good
skin, impervious alike to the ravages of sun and rain—and its style is
exactly like that of the other women in the tribe.
Now let us stand for a moment on a corner of Fifth Avenue, New York's
famous avenue of fashion. We see a modern young woman on her way to the
theater. From the tips of her French-heeled slippers to the jaunty
little hat on her head, she is—perfect. Her gown seems to express in
every line the story of her own personality. The color-scheme might well
have been invented by Mother Nature herself. The wrap she wears is of
sable furs—but how different from the furs of her sister of ancient
days! Each skin is exquisitely glossed and dressed, and the whole
matched to perfection.
Another young woman passes. She is differently attired in trig tailored
suit and smart toque. A business girl. Also perfect. And countless
others, streaming endlessly along the wide avenue, men and women,
defying in the expression of their own taste and individuality, the
decrees of fashion; interpreting silks, cottons, fabrics and furs to
harmonize with their own particular personalities, and the story of
civilization is told in the clothes they wear.
It was Cowper who said, "While the world lasts, Fashion will lead it by
the nose." And really, hasn't Fashion been a stern monarch throughout
the ages? It commanded the Chinese women to have tiny feet—and tiny
feet they had to have although it meant months of torture to the young
child. It commanded the monstrous ruff of the Elizabethan period, and
decreed dignified wigs for the gentlemen of the Colonial days. It
decided upon the mantle of the patriarch, the toga of the Roman, the fez
of the Turk. Its endless whims and vagaries made the study of dress one
of the most curious and fascinating in the world.
How was Fashion created, you ask? To answer thoroughly, we must once
more go back to those distant cave-man days when dress itself had its
inception. At first one simple costume for both men and women
distinguished each tribe. There was nothing different in the way the
skins were thrown over the body, no embellishments to render any one
costume different from those worn by the others. Even at a relatively
late date, uniformity of dress among people of one race was like a
national characteristic; it was worn by all.
But slowly, as the tiny beam of civilization struggled onward and
upward, there came a desire for something more than merely a protection
against cold and rain. There came a very intense desire for
ornamentation and personal adornment. Thus we find men and women in
Central Africa decorating their bodies with stripes of paint, and those
who were still more "fashionable" deforming themselves with most weird
series of cicatrices on their bodies and faces. In New Guinea we find
women who do not indulge in clothing at all, ashamed to appear in public
without bracelets on their arms and legs, and ornaments on their heads.
So intense did this love of ornament grow among women, that they began
to cover their bodies with fur, feathers, shell, beads and countless
ornaments. As late as the year 400 the primitive desire for
self-adornment is evident. In that year, it is recorded that the wife of
the Emperor Honorius died, and when her grave was reopened in 1544, the
golden tissues of her shroud were melted and amounted in weight to
thirty-six pounds.
Men and women alike hesitated to think for themselves in those earlier
periods. Thus, instead of creating "styles" for themselves, they chose
the easier method of imitating what others wore—changing it just enough
to meet with their own requirements, to satisfy their own undeveloped
tastes. One tribe copied what another wore, changing it only slightly
according to whim. We find that man soon realized that the accumulation
of coverings on his body hindered him in his strenuous activities. It
was quite natural, then, that simplicity should dominate his attire,
while to woman was left the development of the decorative art.
Fashion was born—and it has remained undisputed ruler ever since.
It is not so much in the Fashion of days gone by that we are interested,
but in the very delightful fashions of to-day. We all know that the love
of beauty is inherent in all women—just as the pride of personal
appearance is inherent in all men. It is a heritage brought down through
generations of slowly developing culture. And we find to-day that
Fashion is the means of expressing individuality.
It would indeed be a Herculean task to attempt to write a discourse on
the ever-changing dictates of Fashion, on the constant whims and
vagaries of Style. Each season brings forth striking new dress
innovations—new colorings, new draperies, new lines. What is in vogue
to-day is cast aside to-morrow as "out-of-date."
In the world of good society, dress plays an important part in the
expression of culture. There is a proper dress for afternoon wear, and
another for evening functions. There are certain costumes for the
wedding, and others for the garden fête. The gentleman wears one suit to
business, and another to dinner. Where civilization has reached its
highest point, there has dress and fashion reached its finest and most
exquisite development.
But instinct can be carried to excess. Inherent love of beauty can be so
abused that it becomes a sign of vanity. Fashion can be made a series of
fads, and style an excuse for eccentricities. It is because men and
women, and especially women, are so eager to adopt any new style
creation offered to them by the vast army of "authorities," so impatient
always for something new, new—that the dress of to-day has earned the
censure of students of sociology. "Supply the demand" has ever been the
slogan of the producers, while they strive in every way to increase the
demand.
And yet, the study of dress is a beautiful one. Women are never so
lovely as when they are dressed well. Men are never so attractive as
when their garments are faultless. There is something romantic in the
gown and veil of the bride, just as there is something delightfully
refreshing in the sight of a young girl daintily attired on a hot
Summer's day. There is poetry in dress, just as there is in a towering
cathedral or in a well-molded statue.
One of the most important, in fact, the important principle of dress
is harmony. Nature itself is a glorious example of all that is
harmonious. Picture, for instance, the delicate pansy, with its soft
blend of greens and yellows and purples. Think of the exquisite
china-aster with its pale colorings of violet and pink. And the
many-hued rainbow that glorifies the sky with a sudden brilliance. How
utterly irresistible are these harmonies of Nature, and how well we can
all profit by her example!
The spirit of the modern dress seems to be more definitely centered
around "sensation" than harmony. We see sport skirts worn with
high-heeled shoes, pinks indulged in where navy blue or dark brown would
be more appropriate, elaborate motifs and decorations where simplicity
should have been. And we see women, priding themselves upon being
fashionable, wearing gowns that are pretty enough, but that on them are
completely out of harmony.
The reason for this is that so many women, and men too, accept the
dictates of Fashion without stopping to determine whether or not these
new creations are suitable to their own particular type. They do not
realize that to be fashionable does not mean to follow conscientiously
every new fad, but to adjust the prevailing style to conform with the
lines of their individual faces and forms. To illustrate: it is
ridiculous for the very slim young lady to wear a severe straight-line
frock simply because it is the fashion, but she can adapt the
straight-line effect to her own figure, and add a bit of fluffiness.
Similarly, the stout woman need not wear tremendous, voluminous ruffles
and flounces because Fashion decrees that they shall be worn, but she
may gain the desired effect by using them in moderation.
Why is it that a gown may look thoroughly beautiful on a manikin, but
have an entirely different effect when you put it on? Because you have
distinct personality, you have little peculiarities of line and
coloring that require special consideration. To select lines that
harmonize with the lines of your body, colors that harmonize with your
own coloring, and styles that harmonize with your particular type, is to
dress well and attractively. Seek harmony first—and style afterward.
"White was made for brides," but that is no reason why we, all of us,
cannot enjoy it in its cool daintiness, youthful simplicity. White may
always be worn—by young and old, at party and dance, in morning and
afternoon. It is, and always will be, the ideal color.
But Fashion, in a different mood, demands many hues both soft and
brilliant. And here again, whether she dictates pale pink or vivid
scarlet, one must be guided by one's own sense of taste and harmony.
The colors of the dress must blend with the natural colors if beauty is
to be obtained. Remarkable effects, as startlingly beautiful as the
somber afterglow of the setting sun, can be obtained by the correct use
of color. It may be contrast or harmony—but there must be a perfect
blend.
To illustrate for a few individual types: the sallow-complexioned
brunette must never wear yellow, even though it is the favorite color of
the season, for it brings out more clearly the yellow lurking in the
sallowness of her cheeks. The person with "coal black" hair must avoid
blues, light and dark; the colors that most become her are crimson,
orange, dark red. Pink is the ideal color for the blond woman with warm
coloring; black for the woman with fair skin. Pink and green are for
youth; purple and black are for age. The other colors may be used
according to the artistic sense of the wearer.
In selecting material for a gown, the fashionable modiste will first
consider the eyes of the lady who is to wear it. Though few but the
artist realize it, the eyes are the keynote of the entire costume. They
determine whether the dress shall be frivolous or demure, gay or somber,
vivid or soft. The color of the hair, also, is important in deciding the
color of the gown itself. The soft colors—pink, green, violet,
blue—are admirably adapted to blue eyes and light hair while the more
brilliant colors are suitable for dark eyes and black hair.
So large a part does color play in the creating of fashions that one
must give it correspondingly careful consideration in adapting it to
one's complexion and hair. A wrong color has the alarming propensity of
marring the beauty of the most charming gown—even as the use of the
right color enhances the beauty of the most simple gown. With harmony,
style and color the gown needs only the final touch of personality to
make it perfect. And it is that of which we are now going to speak.
Dress is an index to character as surely as a table of contents is an
index to what a book contains. We know by looking at an over-dressed
young person, with a much-beruffled and ornamented frock, that she is
vain. We know by glancing at a young man who wears an orange tie,
checked hat, and twirls a bamboo cane, that he is inclined to be just
the least bit gay. We know by the simple dignity of an elderly woman's
dress that she is conservative and well-poised.
In the clothes we wear we reveal to the world the story of our ideals,
our principles. If we are frivolous, our clothes show it. If we have a
sense of the artistic, our clothes show it. If we are modest, bold, vain
or proud the clothes we wear reveal it for all the world to see.
But "Dress changes the manners," Voltaire tells us. It is true; on the
stage the "beggar" in his tattered clothes acts and speaks and looks the
part of a beggar. At dress rehearsals he plays the part to perfection,
but rehearsing in ordinary street clothes he is never quite
satisfactory. Something seems to be missing; and that something is
personality. The same is true of the rather studious young girl who is
also shy and retiring. In her somber clothes, she is perfectly content
in the gloomy solitude of her study; but dressed in a filmy little frock
of lace and net, with her hair youthfully marcelled, with buckled
slippers on her feet, she feels vaguely dissatisfied. She wants to skip
and dance and laugh and sing; if she knew psychology and the personality
in dress, she would be able to explain it to herself in this manner:
clothes so affect the mental outlook, that the wearer unconsciously
adopts the personality portrayed.
Can you imagine a Lord Chesterton in tattered clothes, a Queen Elizabeth
in a limp calico frock, a George Washington in a conspicuously checked
suit? Unmistakable qualities of character are discernible in the clothes
we wear—and for that reason we should be particularly careful to make
them a true expression of our personality.
Thus when you want to feel light-hearted and free from care, wear
delicate fabrics and bright hats. When you want to be thoughtful and
solemn, wear heavy clothes and large, drooping hats. Adapt your clothes
to your moods, or your moods to your clothes; but have always one ideal
in dress—yourself.
This holds equally true of the man. When weighty business matters are to
be attended to, dark suits with correspondingly somber ties and shirts
attract the desired mood of seriousness. For less sedate, though not
less important, occasions, brighter attire makes one forget the cares of
business and assume an air of gayety. One may recline in a full-dress
suit and strive vainly for rest; but the mere putting on of a smoking
jacket brings an immediate feeling of relaxation.
As Haliburton so pointedly said, "As soon as a person begins to dress
'loud' his manners and conversation partake of the same element."
Striking attractiveness, rather than simple good taste, seems to be the
spirit of modern dress. To see a beautiful young woman in gaudy clothes
is as disappointing as seeing a romantic old Spanish tale bound in a
cheap paper cover.
How much more delightful is a simple frock, developed of rich materials,
and boasting only deep soft folds of the material as decoration, than an
elaborate gown with rows and rows of imitation gold lace! And yet, we
find that many of our most fashionable women, priding themselves on
having good taste, select clothes that are conspicuous and gaudy rather
than those that are simple.
Beauty of material and excellence of workmanship should be the primary
considerations in selecting a new gown or suit. If ornament is desired,
the laws of harmony, contrast and personality should be carefully
considered. Colors must blend; there must be no weird contrasts that jar
badly on one's artistic sense. Gaudiness, after all, defeats its own
purpose, for it expresses a certain vulgarity. The desire to attract
attention has no place in the world of good breeding.
Who wishes to be stared at, remarked upon, openly admired—if not the
ill-bred woman, the sorely uncultivated man? Good taste finds expression
in gowns that are simple, inconspicuous, yet well-cut and artistic; in
suits that are quiet, conservative and well-tailored. And the good taste
finds its reward in the genuine admiration and keen appreciation of
others.
That is what Dr. Crane says—Dr. Crane, who has studied manners in all
their aspects. "Extravagance is the greatest vulgarity." How true it is!
How many of us adjust the expenditure for clothes in our households, not
by what we ourselves can afford, but by what our neighbors and friends
spend!
Fashion is a temptress. Smart gowns, exquisite hat creations, attractive
styles in bootery, all tempt us to spend more than is really quite
necessary. The extravagant woman fills her wardrobe with numerous
dresses, blouses and hats for which she has no real use. But how much
more sensible it is to have just enough for one's needs, a few stylish,
well-made garments—each one an expression of the wearer's own
personality.
There seems to be a false impression among men and women alike, that to
be fashionable one must have a new dress for every occasion, a different
suit for every day of the week. As a matter of fact, this is an
entirely mistaken idea. Fashion is not measured by the number of suits
or dresses we have, but by the good taste we display in their selection.
It is significant that the woman whose wardrobe is filled to
overflowing, invariably finds that she has "nothing to wear," while the
woman of taste, with her carefully selected wardrobe, always seems to be
dressed just right.
Just as there are certain laws governing the manners and conduct of
society, there are certain laws governing the uses of dress. What is
correct for the dance, is entirely incorrect for street wear. What one
wears on a shopping trip may not be worn to the theater. The gentleman
must not wear his business suit to dinner. Occasion governs costume—and
its dictates must be heeded if one would be considered both fashionable
and well-bred.
There is, for instance, the modish young lady taking an afternoon stroll
in high-heeled satin slippers. What could be more inappropriate? Satin
slippers should be worn only with semi-evening or evening dress—never
with street clothes. Pumps with fur coats are strikingly inconsistent,
as are straw hats with winter attire, or velvet hats with dainty
summer-time frocks. True fashion does not profess to distort the
seasons, although the style authorities would often have us believe so
for their own material gain.
Then, of course, there is the young person who is athletically inclined,
and insists on wearing sport clothes on all occasions. We see her on a
shopping tour, blissfully unaware of how ridiculous her full-pleated
skirt and loose middy appear beneath her elaborate wrap. We see her at
a tea, enthusiastic over the glories of the eighteenth hole, and
interpreting the glances of her friends at her sport shoes and bright
sweater as glances of admiration rather than disapproval. Sport clothes
are for the tennis courts, golf links, skating rinks and similar places.
They have no place at teas and receptions.
Of the transparent blouses and silk dresses of the business woman, we
will speak later; but in drawing a comparison, we might say that they
are no more inappropriate than the eccentricities of dress assumed by
some of our women of fashion. The importance of this question warrants a
special paragraph.
Many men and women, in the mistaken belief that they are expressing
personality, adopt certain peculiarities of dress.
Eccentric dressing always attracts attention, and is therefore bordering
on the vulgar. There are, of course, many men and women who enjoy
attracting attention, who delight in being considered "different." In
such people we are not interested. It is the people of good taste that
we wish to advise against the mistake of wearing peculiar and
unconventional clothes.
There is a very old tale related about an Egyptian queen who owned a
chain of coral, strung on a strip of dried skin from one of their sacred
animals. She gloried in the possession of it, and in order to do full
justice to it, she forbade everyone in her kingdom to wear beads.
The man or woman of to-day who wears "different" clothes, unconventional
and in most cases unbecoming garments, is merely obeying the same vain
and selfish instinct that prompted that Queen of long ago to forbid the
wearing of beads.
As for personality, the man or woman who cannot express it in correct,
conservative and conventional clothes, certainly cannot express it in
grotesque and eccentric ones.
Beautiful dress alone is not enough. We may be attracted to a manikin,
but after five minutes or so it bores us. With beauty of dress there
must also be a grace and ease of manner without which no man or woman is
quite charming, for uncomfortable garments rob us of all poise and
grace.
Think of holding a quiet, serious, calm conversation while one's foot
aches painfully because of a tight shoe! Think of sitting gravely and
patiently through a long concert while one's too-tight collar grows ever
more and more irritating, while one's narrow jacket becomes constantly
more uncomfortable!
To be uncomfortable is to be conscious of what one is wearing; and we
know that well-dressed men and women are never conscious of clothes.
They know instinctively that they are well-dressed, and with the
knowledge comes a dignity that adds charm to the beauty of their
costumes. Thus they are able to enter whole-heartedly into conversation,
feeling neither constrained nor uncomfortable but enjoying that serene
satisfaction that comes when one is fully aware that one is
well-dressed.
The early Romans had two distinct costumes which were worn alike by rich
and poor—one simple, flowing garment for the ordinary activities of
every-day life, and one that was also simple but a bit more decorative,
for the ceremonial occasions. Perhaps the grace and ease of manner for
which the Romans of yore were noted was due to the delightful comfort of
their dress.
Tight shoes, extreme styles, uncomfortable wraps, coats or
suits—anything that in any way makes you conscious of what you are
wearing, should be rigidly avoided. You are truly a "slave of fashion"
if you allow yourself to suffer hours of torture merely to present an
appearance that would have been vastly more pleasing if it had been
accompanied by the graceful ease of manner of which discomfort robbed
you.
We cannot all be perfect "sixteens" or perfect "thirty-sixes." Some of
us are taller than others. Some of us are inclined to be stout. Some of
us are short, and others very slender. We all have distinct
individualities that can be marred or "starred" in the manner of dress
we adopt.
We should all study our "good points" and wear the kind of clothes that
will emphasize them at the same time that it will conceal our defects.
Clothes have the power of magnifying imperfections. The too-stout woman
can wear dresses that will make her look twice as stout. The short man
can wear suits that make him look very much shorter. Intelligence, good
judgment and a sense of beauty will achieve remarkable results for the
man or woman who cares about his or her appearance.
There is the very thin woman, for instance. She must avoid the severely
straight up-and-down lines that are so appropriate for other women who
are built differently. Her forte is tunics, large collars, ruffles,
overblouses and bows. Soft, filmy materials that fall in graceful lines
are especially becoming, as are checked and flowered materials. Stripes
in all forms must be strictly avoided as they accentuate the
slenderness. For the thin woman, an easy, graceful manner is most
important. When she develops such a manner, and combines it with the
fluffiest and most frilly of feminine fashions, one will see how very
charming she can be.
The too-stout woman faces a more difficult problem. She must carefully
consider each detail of her dress, making sure that it does not in any
way accentuate her fleshiness. She must avoid the checked and
brightly-colored materials that her slender friends may wear. Long lines
should be worn, and it should be remembered that clothes without
waistlines work wonders for the stout woman—just as the coat without a
belt improves the appearance of the stout man. Such edicts of fashion as
the tight sleeve, round neck or short waist are not for the stout woman.
The ideal dress for her is one long and sweeping in line. The length of
the skirt, as well as details of style, must be adapted to her own
particular requirements. She will find that she will be much happier
(and her friends, too!) if she forgets that she is stout, and does not
constantly bewail the fact to those who are with her. It is not
deplorable to be stout, but it certainly is deplorable to dress in a
manner which emphasizes that stoutness.
Tall people have a distinct advantage. They are able to wear all styles,
all colors, unless they are extremely tall. They seem to have a certain
natural grace that lends charm to whatever they wear. But there is the
too-tall person who must be careful of what he or she wears. The very
tall woman should avoid stripes as they add to her height. She must not
wear high collars, nor severely tailored blouses. The tailored suit,
however, becomes her. She should avoid bright colors and indulge a great
deal in blacks and "midnight" blues. The tall man may wear whatever he
pleases—as long as it is not conspicuous. He almost invariably presents
an imposing and dignified appearance if he is well dressed.
Short people, especially short women, must exert special care in the
selection of their wardrobes. The short woman must select only those
gowns that have long lines, long-waisted effects. Bright colors are not
for her—except a touch here and there. Short skirts are more becoming
than long ones, just as stripes are more becoming than checks. Two
extremes that the short woman must never indulge in, are large, drooping
hats and extremely high heels. The hat cuts her height, and the heels
give her a tilted appearance.
Whether you are tall or short, stout or slender, you have some
particular attractiveness, and you should not allow the knowledge of
your imperfections to make you timid or awkward. It needs only the
correct dress and the proper spirit of pride and dignity to accentuate
your personal charms. Remember that it is personality that
counts—personality and character—and while some of the world's
greatest personalities have been exceptionally tall, just as many of
them have been extremely short!
Someone once said there is nothing more beautiful than a beautiful
woman. A pretty sentiment, but not quite complete. We would have it
read: There is nothing more beautiful than a beautiful woman
well-dressed.
When is a woman well-dressed? It cannot be when she is merely
fashionable, for when we glance at the fading portrait of some forgotten
ancestor, graceful in her Colonial gown with its billows and billows of
creamy white lace, we feel instinctively that she is well-dressed. And
yet, we cannot call her fashionable. It cannot be elaborate attire, for
we know that the stylish young miss in her severely tailored suit and
sailor hat is certainly well-dressed. It cannot be distinctiveness—or
individuality—for many a delightfully well-dressed young woman buys all
her frocks and suits in the shops.
No, it is neither of these—and yet, it is all of them. The well-dressed
woman has the faculty of charming you—and yet you yourself know not
why. You know that she is well-dressed, but when she is gone you cannot
remember just what it was that she wore. You have only a faint
recollection of a perfect harmony of line and color.
She is fashionable, yes; and elaborate, too, if the occasion warrants
it. She is distinctive, but not obviously so. But if she is truly
well-dressed, her clothes are of the best materials and the workmanship
is faultless. Style, color and line are all incidental to these two
dominating principles of dress—material and workmanship.
The striking characteristic of the woman who is well-dressed is her
poise, her grace and ease of manner, on all occasions. She is never
self-conscious, never uncomfortable. She never is the center of
attraction because she is never conspicuous. She is simply yet smartly
dressed, graceful yet dignified, attractive yet inconspicuous. Above
all, she is always well-dressed—not only on festive occasions.
Every woman has within her the possibilities of being charming—if not
beautiful. It requires only the knowledge of correct dress, of harmony
and beauty in costume. There is, of course, the woman who insists that
she does not care at all about clothes, that she does not care how she
is dressed. But she is the exception, and we are interested in the rule.
Woman does herself an injustice by being dowdy, careless or commonplace
in dress. She puts herself at an unfair disadvantage. Charm and beauty
are the heritage of woman, and the world expects it of her.
The woman who is ruled by fashion may not consider herself a
well-dressed woman. If her sense of beauty is developed, if she knows
the value of art and harmony, she will not be the slave of a stupid
mode. She will not worship at the pedestal of fashion, trembling as each
new decree is announced lest she be not among the very first to observe
it. Style does not dominate her personality; rather, her personality
dominates style.
And after all, is it not absurd to adhere slavishly to that which is in
vogue, without attempting to adapt those modes to one's own
individuality? There is, for instance, the woman who discards an
otherwise attractive and fashionable gown merely because the sleeves are
slightly puffed instead of severely tight-fitting as the whim of Fashion
demands. She does not stop to consider that puffed sleeves are
infinitely more becoming to her. They are not the "latest"—and that
fact alone is enough to cause her to discard the gown.
An excellent thought for the girl or woman who wishes to be
well-dressed, to remember, is: always dress as though you were going to
the photographer to have your picture taken—a picture that you are
going to leave to your children to remember you by. If you keep this in
mind, you will never wear commonplace clothes nor clothes that are
extreme in style, but you will dress with simplicity and taste, being
sure to add here and there a touch of your very own personality—perhaps
a corsage of violets to show your love of flowers, or a rare old cameo
brooch to show your reverence for the things grown old.
Few men realize the tremendous importance of clothes both in the social
and business worlds. The effects of dress are far-reaching—and they are
certainly no less so among men than women.
There is the story of the man who gained admittance to the Athenaeum
Library in Boston, although he was not a member. After spending a very
pleasant morning reading, he prepared to leave. It was then that he was
attracted to a rather dowdy individual who was remonstrating indignantly
with an official at the door. "I am a member, I tell you!" he exclaimed.
"Well, you certainly don't look it," the other retorted.
The man who had spent a morning in the library hastened away. He had not
known that use of the reading rooms was restricted to members. But no
one had questioned him, as he looked the part of a member. Yet, the
man who really did belong, had to submit to the indignity of questioning
and of submitting proof, because his appearance—his clothes—did not do
justice to his position.
We know that first impressions are the most important, especially in
business. The man whose clothes are gaudy, ill-fitting or extreme, will
find that he is not making as rapid a stride forward as his abilities
warrant. Incorrect dress is a serious handicap. In the social world, it
is not only a handicap, but a barrier. The oft-repeated Dutch proverb
may be a bit exaggerated, but it certainly has a suggestion of
truth—"Clothes Make the Man."
And so we say to the young and the old man alike, dress well. Dress, not
as a fashion-plate, but with a regard for appropriate style—and with an
especially keen regard for fine materials and excellent workmanship. Do
not be content with an ordinary suit, but be sure that each one you wear
imparts that poise and dignity which is so essential to the true
gentleman. Your wardrobe need not be filled with suits for every day and
every occasion; but a few carefully selected garments, well-tailored and
smartly styled will earn for you the enviable distinction of "a
well-dressed man."
One might remember, to quote once again from the proverbs of the Dutch,
that "A smart coat is a good letter of introduction."
Youth may not claim sole possession of charm. Old age has a charm all
its own—a silver charm that makes one think of mellowed roses, and
fading sunsets.
A delightful gray-and-lilac grandmother, reposing quietly in the depths
of a great armchair, perhaps dreaming of a golden youth—this is a
picture that artists have long loved to paint. There is something
strangely irresistible in old age, especially when old age is
beautiful. And to make it beautiful requires only a calm assurance and
kind heart combined with clothes that are in good taste and in harmony
with one's years and personality.
Of course, one does not expect one's grandmother to wear the same kind
of gay creations that young Miss Seventeen delights in; nor would one
expect one's grandfather to flaunt the same style of suit one's son
wears at college. The sound of rustling silk and sweeping petticoats is
one of the charms of the elderly lady—but an abbreviated skirt would
certainly make her appear ridiculous. Similarly, the elderly gentleman
finds dignity and distinction in a black frock coat, but one is inclined
to smile when he appears in the jaunty black-and-white checked Norfolk
suit that would better become his son.
Yes, age has a charm that is well worth striving for. There is something
decidedly imposing and impressive about a handsome old man immaculately
dressed; and there are no words beautiful enough to describe the
enchantment of the silver-haired old lady in delicate colors and
fabrics, and flowing styles reminiscent of the days of powdered wigs.
Old age has its compensations; youth can never have its charming repose
and calm.
In these days, when daughter and grandmother enjoy the same
entertainments, and attend the same affairs, the clothes of the elderly
woman are just as important as those of the younger. We shall describe
here several kinds of costumes that invariably add charm to old age, so
that grandmother may appear to advantage beside the youthful bloom of
the young girl.
There is, for instance, the soft, wide lace fichu so becoming to the
elderly woman—but that the young miss cannot very well wear. Combined
with a dress of brocaded satin, with a full skirt that takes one back to
the days of the Quakers, the lace fichu is most attractive. Then there
is always the shadowy charm of black velvet and black lace. For the more
formal occasions when the elderly woman wishes to be particularly
well-dressed, yet not conspicuous, a dress of black velvet, with wide
frills of black Chantilly lace, makes a most appropriate costume. The
lace may be used to veil the skirt and as sleeves.
The elderly woman may choose any dark color that becomes her—gray, dark
blue and black are perhaps the three colors most favored. There are
several light colors that are appropriate, chief among them, gray and
lavendar. Materials worn by the woman-who-is-older are taffeta, velvet,
crêpe de chine and satin. She should avoid such materials as organdie,
georgette and tulle—they are meant for youth.
Two of the most common faults of elderly women are imitation and
over-dressing. Both rob old age of its charm, and the wise woman will
conscientiously avoid them.
By imitation, we mean the following of fashions and styles meant for the
young person. We see women celebrating their fiftieth wedding
anniversaries wearing "fashionable" dresses that are in absolute discord
with their years and personality. Short skirts and straight-line
silhouettes may be perfectly all right, but they certainly do not give
to old age the imposing dignity that is its main charm.
One instinctively respects and admires the white-haired woman whose
skirts are of a length commensurate with her age and dignity, and who
carries herself with calm poise. More than that, one appreciates her.
But the woman who is growing old and insists upon keeping herself young
by wearing inappropriate and inharmonious clothes, is merely making a
farce of herself. There can be nothing more ridiculous than a woman past
fifty in gown and wrap obviously created for the young person of
seventeen. Instead of improving her appearance, the elderly woman
deprives herself of the charm that should rightfully be hers.
As for over-dressing, it is so utterly bad form and bad taste that it
requires only passing notice. Just as simplicity enhances the beauty of
youth, so does simplicity enhance the charm of old-age. Ostentation of
any kind, jewels, bright colors, gaudy styles—all these make old age
awkward, unpresentable and unrefined.
One can be a good many years past fifty and still enjoy the theater, the
opera. And one can easily retain the presentable dignity of earlier days
by wearing clothes that are just as appropriate as those of those
earlier days.
For afternoon wear the elderly man will find the black frock coat with
gray trousers most effective. He should wear white linen, wing collar
and small black tie. This costume is also appropriate for morning wear.
In the evening the gentleman always wears full dress, irrespective of
age.
In the warmer climates, gentlemen of more mature years find keen
pleasure in the early morning and afternoon costume consisting of black
and white patterned homespun jacket, slacks and waistcoat of white
flannel, white linen and foulard tie. Black and white sport shoes and a
light panama hat complete the costume admirably.
Because it is the trip about which people are most in doubt when it
comes to deciding what to take along we give here below a few
suggestions about the wardrobe for a person about to start South.
To visit the balmy sunshine of the South, is to require a wardrobe that
will harmonize with the lazy mood of the skies of Havana or Miami. Even
though the snows may have tied up traffic in one's own home town,
clothes for the Southland trip must be delicate, "summery" and flimsy.
One includes a bathing suit, too, although the lake back home is frozen
over.
The wardrobe one takes to the South depends largely upon the duration of
the visit and the extent of one's purse. The one described here is for
the average requirements of both.
For the mornings there must be several crisp, demure little frocks that
are easy to launder. Bright colors match bright skies, and wide sashes
are most becoming. For afternoon wear, frocks of taffeta, silk and
organdie are suggested—colorful little frocks made with a regard for
easy packing and attractiveness. Canton crêpe is a lovely material,
especially when it is of pale apricot or Nile green—and it does not
crush as easily as taffeta or organdie. A delightful frock for Southern
wear is hand-sewn voile in a soft old rose shade. With it may be worn a
large-brimmed straw hat of old rose.
Bright sweaters, sport skirts, sport coats, blouses, oxfords—all these
are of course indispensable to the wardrobe for the southern visit. The
number of sweaters and blouses taken depends upon the length of the
visit. One should include a bathing suit, a beach coat and a brightly
colored parasol. And the smart frock for evening strolls must not be
forgotten.
At least one elaborate evening gown, and two or three semi-evening gowns
will be necessary even if the visit to the South is a short one. And we
would heartily recommend a fluffy little evening wrap to go with the
gown. Then, of course, there are the little strapped slippers and the
low-cut sports shoes to be considered.
One is pretty sure to be happy under the blue skies of the tropics if
one's wardrobe contains a plentiful supply of gay, colorful frocks,
blouses and sports things. But one need not postpone the visit because
clothes seem to be expensive; common sense, good judgment and a small
purse go a long way.
Plenty of white duck trousers, white linen, light sack coats and sports
clothes are necessary for the man who winters in the South. He will find
the patterned homespun jacket very smart indeed, with slacks and
waistcoat of white flannel. This outfit may be worn with panama hat,
colored foulard tie and black and white sports shoes.
A brown or gray flannel sack suit is convenient for Southern
wear—especially in the morning and early afternoon. It is attractive
when worn with tan oxfords, colored linen and straw hat. Flannel suits
are often worn with white oxfords, and sometimes blue serge sack jackets
with white duck trousers.
The wise man will include a suit for motoring in his wardrobe. With it
he should include a motor cap, and a light raglan coat or a coat of
unshorn homespun. An attractive tennis jacket for Southern wear is of
blue and black striped English flannel, with a wide roll collar; worn
with white linen and white flannel trousers. White tennis shoes should
be included for wear with this outfit.
For the afternoon, an attractive costume for the gentleman in the South
is a single-breasted jacket of diamond weave homespun, a double-breasted
vest to match, white flannel trousers and white linen. A black tie with
polka dots of white, and black and white sports shoes add just the right
note of smartness.
A dinner jacket and full dress suit must have place in the wardrobe one
prepares for the South. Patent leather pumps should not be forgotten,
nor a silk hat for the very formal occasions. Of course, there must be
plenty of white and colored linen, and a generous supply of bright ties
and sports shoes and hose. As for bathing suit, golf togs and riding
habits, we leave these to the taste and discrimination of the gentleman
who is contemplating the visit.
There was a time, not so very long ago, when woman's activities were
confined to the home. For a woman to be actively engaged in some
business or profession of her own meant one of two things: either she
was an "old maid" or she was "queer." Naturally, the social standing of
such women was rather doubtful.
But to-day, with the equal franchise that has given woman her
long-denied vote, she has allowed her talents and capabilities to find
outlet in other wider fields than those limited merely to the home.
There are women in law offices, women in courts as reporters and
interpreters, women in the stock exchange, women editors, women
directors—women in every conceivable branch of art, industry and
commerce. That they are succeeding, admirably so, is evident in their
social status.
Years of blind adherence to false tradition have robbed woman of her
proper development along business lines. That explains why there is
still a difference in the business status of men and women. Then, of
course, there is the sex difference; and advanced though she prides
herself on being, woman is still considered mentally inferior—for the
simple reason that she is a woman. It may take many years of slow
development before woman is considered man's absolute equal—in
business as in politics. And until that time arrives, it behooves every
woman who is interested in the progress of womanhood, to do her little
share in hastening that glorious time of complete equality.
One of the seemingly small, but really vital things woman can do, is to
dress so well and so wisely in business that the most exacting man can
find no excuse to condemn her as a "slave of fashion."
Poise, self-confidence, dignity—all these come with the knowledge that
one is well-dressed. The business woman cannot afford to sacrifice
self-confidence, if she wishes to make a success. Self-confidence brings
with it a certain forcefulness of manner, a certain dignity of bearing
that is convincing at the same time that it is impressive.
And clothes play a large part in the development of this
self-confidence! Yes, clothes, for it is when one knows and feels
instinctively that one is perfectly attired, yet inconspicuous, that one
is in full command of one's thoughts and bearing. The woman who would be
a success in business, must remember that she cannot do justice to the
business of the moment, if she is wondering whether her skirt falls just
right, whether her blouse is still crisply laundered, whether the colors
she is wearing are not too bright. She becomes embarrassed,
flustered—and she fails to do justice to whatever should have been
claiming her attention.
Recently, we read in the newspapers about a woman lawyer defending a
young man accused of murder. We read with a great deal of interest, that
she was a comparatively young woman, and inclined to be eloquent in her
speech. We read parts of her rebuttals to the court, and we tried to
picture her standing in the center of the huge room, surrounded by eager
spectators, facing the jury,—in a gown that was fashionable, becoming,
yet inappropriate and uncomfortable. We could not do it. We knew that
she could never have made the impassioned appeal that freed the
defendant if she had been thinking of her clothes, rather than of the
case. We pictured her in a conservative suit, with high-necked waist,
strictly tailored throughout, and giving the appearance of being
well-dressed without anyone even stopping to think about it. Later we
were gratified to learn definitely that we were correct—this woman
lawyer who had made so tremendous a success was an extremely
conservative dresser, with simple good taste.
Self-confidence, poise and dignity are valuable assets to have in
business. Correct dress aids materially in their development.
It hardly seems necessary in a book of this kind to speak about the
slattern. And yet, some bits of advice we can give may be of value to
some—and therefore we will not omit them.
By a slattern we mean a woman who shows lack of care and thought in
clothing. The girl whose blouse sags is a slattern. The woman whose
dress hangs loosely and does not fit well is a slattern. The woman who
looks as though she had jumped into her clothes quickly, dashed off to
the office without glancing in the mirror, and then forgotten all about
straightening her hat and belt, is a slattern. Broadly speaking, any
woman is a slattern who is not scrupulously careful in her attire, who
does not show by her very appearance that she is well-groomed, well
cared for.
One can be perfectly groomed with the possession of just one suit. A
girl who is planning to have an illustrious career, and who wishes to
put aside her earnings with a view towards future investments, need not
spend large sums on clothes. With one very smart, tailored suit of a
good material, and several attractive blouses, she can always look neat
and well-dressed. Satin blouses, tucked and high-necked, are excellent
for the office. A soft, fluffy little blouse of georgette transforms the
suit into a quite appropriate costume for visiting and entertaining.
There can be no excuse for the girl or woman who does not always look
her best at business as well as when she is attending to her social
duties. And being well-dressed does not mean expensively or elaborately
dressed. Some of the best groomed women wear clothes that are striking
because of their very simplicity.
Changing constantly as they do, Fashions must be followed wisely. To
adopt each new style as it is presented, stopping to question neither
its authenticity nor permanency, is to become very soon a literal "slave
of fashion." To avoid this, women of good taste adopt only those new
fashions that are conservative and not obviously "new." Anything
radically different, anything extreme, should be strictly avoided.
The business woman should pay particular attention to the selecting of
styles for her dresses, blouses and suits. She should never select a
dress that is made with some distinct feature that may be worn for a
month or two and then discarded. She should never search among the
"fads" for her blouses, but choose instead those simple, tailored,
becoming waists that are so appropriate for business. Her suits should
always be dark in color, of excellent material, and of a style that is
amply conservative enough to be worn two seasons if necessary.
If fashions are chosen wisely, with a regard for simplicity; if, in
fact, clothes are chosen for good cut and fine material rather than
attractive style, the business woman will soon find that she is gaining
a reputation for being at all times well-dressed. And it is a reputation
she will find valuable.
One need only step into a modern office for a moment, and glance around
at the stenographers in their thin georgette blouses and high-heeled
shoes, to realize how inappropriate gaudy, attractive clothes are in the
business atmosphere. The stenographers may continue to wear their flimsy
waists and gaudy clothes without ever feeling sorry for it, but the
business person who expects to have a worthy career, will find
ostentation in clothes, and especially gaudy display, fatally
detrimental to her ultimate success.
There is nothing more conducive to respect, trust and honor in business
than quiet tastes—in clothes as in everything else. One instinctively
respects the young lady who is smartly attired in dark, simple clothes,
ideally adapted to the business environment. How much more sensible she
looks, how much more eager one is to trust her with confidential
information, with responsible duties, than the flippant person who wears
gaudy clothes! The wise woman will never allow bad taste to influence
her to wear bright, attractive things to business; what she lacks in
good taste and the knowledge of correct dress, she will make up in good
common sense.
Someone once said, "There must be a reason for everything." There must
be, then, a good reason for everything we wear. And surely there can be
no reason for a bright orange georgette waist, or a finely plaited white
crêpe de chine skirt worn to business. Women who wish to succeed in
business, should avoid all that is gaudy, useless and inappropriate in
dress, wearing only what is simple, becoming and neat.
The correctly-tailored, neat business suit is indispensable—as any
business woman will attest. There seems to be a dignity about a suit
that is lacking in any other business garment. Perhaps it is because of
its simplicity.
For the woman who wishes to be tailored, we suggest the smart English
tweed suits that are always in good taste. They may be simple, belted
models with large patch pockets and straight-line jackets. Heather is a
good color, or gray or brown mixture. Worn with plain white lawn or
white batiste blouses, suits of this kind are ideal for business wear.
Jersey suits are also appropriate, if they are developed in dark colors,
and simple styles. Loose, belted jackets are always in style, or they
may be slightly fitted at the waist. Most popular and most becoming of
all is the navy blue serge suit. It is always appropriate. It can be
worn with white or colored blouses, and always presents a neat
appearance. If it is well made and fits perfectly it will impart that
well-groomed look so important to business women. For exact style of
suit, fashion magazines or personal tailors must be consulted.
In the summer a woman may with propriety wear simple frocks of gingham,
chambray, linen, and other washable materials.
Dark colors and heavy materials are always better form for business
frocks than light, colorful materials. Good taste is undeniably evident
in the simple, one-piece business dress of navy blue serge or tricotine.
A bit of lace at the neck, or perhaps some touch of bright color,
relieves the sombre darkness of the dress yet does not add any undue or
inappropriate attraction.
Please remember we are not trying to preach here, or lecture you on the
extremes of style. What we are attempting to do is merely point out for
you what is correct and incorrect to wear in business circles, and we
feel sure that you can make no mistake by following our advice.
For instance, there is the woman who is seeking valiantly to make a
success in some line of business hitherto barred to women. Yet she wears
an expensive fur coat and attractive frocks that would be better fitted
to the dance floor. She wonders why her superiors hesitate to trust her
with important responsibilities. She does not realize that her lack of
discrimination in dress, her evident lack of knowledge of what is
correct to wear at business, has caused them to lose confidence in her.
The business coat should be of cloth, never completely of fur unless
one's position is high enough to warrant it—and even then it should be
only of one fur, instead of a combination of two or three, and made with
a regard for simplicity and inconspicuousness. However, the most
appropriate business coat is made of a heavy cloth, plain or fur-trimmed
for winter, and light-weight, dark-colored material for the warmer days.
The hat, of course, follows the general note of simplicity and is
usually small and dark. A turban is excellent, and it is one of the few
fashions in hats that remains always popular.
It took many centuries of hammering before the portals of business and
industry and art were thrown wide open to women. Now that that has
happened it is her duty and pride to conduct herself in such a way that
there can be no regrets and vain longings for the return of the woman of
yesterday. By her manner and her dress a woman determines her place, and
the women who are careless of their appearance and careless of their
standard are the ones who are hindering the progress of women toward the
goal of perfect womanhood.
When she enters business she must realize that she is on an equal
footing with men and she should not demand or expect privileges simply
because she is a woman. What she does and says and wears during the
hours of her social life is entirely distinct from her business life,
though, of course, she is always courteous, however hard it may be
sometimes to control herself under the grinding of the routine work at
the office.
Etiquette, in its truest sense, is an exponent of self, rather than a
manifestation towards others. We do what is right and courteous
because no other behavior possibly could be consistent with our claim to
be well-bred.
As Shakespeare has said,
| "To thine own self be true; |
| And it must follow as the night the day, |
| Thou canst not then be false to any man." |
Instinctively, and with no thought of impressing others, the well-bred
man does and says what is correct. And his manners are as polished and
cultivated in his home, at business and in public, as they are at the
most formal social functions.
It is not enough to observe the conventions of society when you are in
the elaborate ballroom or at a fashionable dinner. You must be always,
at all times, in all places, as courteous and well-mannered as you would
be in the most impressive surroundings. The world judges you by your
manners in the street car and on the avenue just as severely as it does
in private homes and at social functions.
Do what is correct because you are well-bred, and not because some
important person is watching you. Then you will truly be following the
rules of courtesy.
"Mightiest powers by deepest calms are fed" says the proverb. And Dr.
Crane, himself a mighty power, supplements the saying by one of his
own—"The silent sun is mightier than the whirlwind."
It is the quiet well-mannered person who inspires respect and liking.
The loud laugh bespeaks the vacant mind and noisy, boisterous conduct
has a tendency to irritate and make nervous the people who have to come
into contact with it. In public and elsewhere you are accredited with as
much refinement and gentility as your manners display—no more.
It is a mark of extreme good breeding to be able to meet all emergencies
calmly and without uncontrolled anger or excitement. In training in the
etiquette of calm behavior, there can be no better test than that of
controlling the temper. Do not confuse this serenity of manner with
cowardice; for the calm dignity that forbids one to be ill-mannered also
forbids one to endure insolence. By learning to control the temper, one
develops that kind of poise which is undeniably one of the greatest
assets in the social and business worlds.
Real culture has a tendency to avoid excessive individuality. Instead,
it requires that all people be treated with equal courtesy, whether they
are strangers in the street of friends in the drawing-room. And it is
this very charm of courtesy that has made etiquette so important a
factor in civilization.
"All doors open to courtesy," the proverbs tell us. The "general public"
so sadly abused in book and speech, is quick to recognize courtesy and
eager to respond to it. Before a pleasant face and a courteous manner,
all obstacles vanish, and we find ourselves progressing easily through
the world, making friends as we go.
Some of us vainly pride ourselves upon being frank and candid in our
association with others. This is a serious blunder which many men and
women make. It is not commendable to be frank, when courtesy is
sacrificed. Be truthful and just, but do not be unkind. And it certainly
is unkind to repeat bits of gossip or scandal, unless there is a special
reason why it should be done. How much better it is to gain the
reputation of being considerate than the reputation of being brutally
frank!
There are countless trifling tests of good manners that distinguish the
well-bred. And these same tests prove that a careful attention to the
rights and comforts of others, is one of the most decided marks of good
breeding. For instance, at the postoffice one can immediately discern
the well-bred man. He stands quietly in line until there is room for him
at the window. He does not crowd. He does not attempt to push ahead of
others to reach the window before his turn. He does not interfere with
other people's business; he would be horrified at the thought of
deliberately loitering near a window to overhear the private affairs of
some other man. He is quiet, unobtrusive and considerate, moving quickly
away from the window for the next person's convenience. In manner and
speech, he is essentially courteous.
It is impossible to be a lady or gentleman without gentle manners. And
it is impossible to have gentle manners without being courteous. The
word "courtesy" to-day should carry the same meaning of beauty and
charm that the word "chivalry" did in the eighteenth and nineteenth
centuries.
There was a time, not so long ago, when a most marked reserve was
required between men and women in public. But to-day, with the advent of
women into almost every branch of business, art and profession, there is
a tendency to loosen this social barrier and create a more friendly
relationship between men and women. The stiff formalities of a decade
ago have given way to a much more pleasing social harmony and
understanding.
"Etiquette requires that the association of men and women in refined
circles shall be frank without freedom, friendly without familiarity"
declares a recent writer on good manners. There is no longer need for
the strained reserve formerly felt when women were in the company of men
in public. If the correct rules of etiquette are observed, and courtesy
and poise follow in their wake, the man and woman in public may be as
entirely at ease and unrestrained as they would be in a drawing-room or
at an informal dinner.
American gentlemen have the reputation of being more chivalrous than the
gentlemen of any other country. American ladies are acclaimed the most
charming and intelligent in the world. Thus, when the speaker on the
platform addresses the public audience as "Ladies and Gentlemen" the
expression should mean something more than merely a careless formality.
To bow or not to bow is often a puzzling question! Some authorities on
etiquette claim that "it is correct to bow first to a person of higher
social position." Others assert that social position has nothing to do
with it, and that it is age alone that determines who shall bow first.
The question devolves upon several very important rules that should be
rigidly observed.
The first, and invariable rule, is that the woman always bows first when
meeting men acquaintances. Her bow assumes the proportions of a simple
greeting; the head is slightly inclined, she looks directly at the man
recognized, and smiles cordially. To the woman, therefore, is given the
privilege of recognizing or refusing to recognize a man acquaintance.
However, the really well-bred woman will never ignore in public a
person, man or woman, with whom she has had even a slight
acquaintance—unless she has a very good reason to do so.
Two young women meeting in public greet each other with a certain degree
of spontaneity which consequently eliminates any question regarding the
first bow. But when one of the women is married and the other unmarried,
the first bow invariably comes from the former. Younger people, of the
same sex, always wait for the first sign of recognition from the older
person.
Young women who are dance partners or partners at the dinner table with
men who are not personal friends, incur the social obligation of bowing
courteously when chance meetings are made in public, even though there
is no desire to continue social acquaintanceship. Also, when a man or
woman has been invited to an entertainment at a house through the good
offices of a friend of the hostess, he or she must wait to receive first
recognition from that hostess when meeting in public.
Gentlemen meeting each other in public observe the same rule as that
outlined for two women,—the younger waits for first recognition from
the elder. If both are of the same age, the question of first bow is
unimportant. People meeting often during the day need not bow
elaborately each time; a simple smile or glance of recognition is
sufficient.
It is extremely rude and unkind to "cut" an acquaintance publicly by
staring coldly in response to a courteous bow and smile. There are so
many more dignified methods of terminating an undesirable
acquaintanceship. It is necessary only to keep one's eyes averted,
persistently but not obviously if one wishes to avoid greeting an
undesirable acquaintance. Or if one wishes one may bow with extreme
formality, but a bow and smile in public should always receive some kind
of acknowledgement, no matter how severely formal.
First in importance to remember when walking in public is poise and
balance of bearing. The expression "the débutante's slouch" is a
direct result of the lazy manner of walking recently adopted by a number
of young women. Aside from its bad effect upon health, this manner of
walking is both ungraceful and unattractive. Men and women both should
remember that an erect, well-poised bearing is more impressive than the
most elaborate costume.
A lady does not take a gentleman's arm when walking with him in the
daytime unless she is elderly or infirm. It is only after dark that she
properly accepts the support of her escort. In this case, she merely
rests the palm of her hand lightly within the curve of his elbow. It is
extremely bad form, as well as ungraceful, for her to link her arm
through his. The gentleman always walks nearest the curb unless on a
special occasion when the street is very crowded and he wishes to
protect her from the jostling crowds. He may offer his arm to the lady
in crossing dangerous streets or to guide her through congested traffic.
When walking with two ladies, a gentleman's proper position is not
between them; if it is in the evening, he offers his arm to the elder
lady and the other friend walks by her side. There seems to be a
mistaken belief that a gentleman walking with two ladies must "sandwich"
himself between them, but correct social usage teaches that this is
entirely wrong. The ladies always walk side by side.
On no occasion may a gentleman take a woman's arm. Good society regards
this as a disrespectful freedom. Thus, whenever he feels that she needs
his protection, a gentleman should offer a lady his arm, but never
attempt to thrust his hand through her arm. It is not even correct for
him to grasp her by the elbow (as so many young men insist upon doing!)
when crossing a street.
Very often we meet, in the course of our daily strolls, old friends or
acquaintances with whom we are eager to have a little chat. This is
entirely permissible, if certain laws of good conduct are observed. One
should never stop on the street to talk, but should walk on slowly with
the person with whom one wishes to converse.
Remember that primarily all conduct in public should be characterized by
reserve. While it is entirely allowable to call a jolly "Hello!" to a
friend one meets in a country lane, even though one still is fifty rods
away, it would be extremely bad form on Broadway or Fifth Avenue—or
Main Street in any town. A cordial but quiet greeting shows good
breeding; a greeting so conspicuous that it attracts attention is never
in good form.
Conversation should be carried on in quiet and subdued tones. Above all,
be natural in your speech. Do not attempt to be flowery in your
language, or "different" merely because there are strangers around to
hear—and admire. And if you do stop to converse with your old friend,
be sure that you speak sensibly of things of mutual interest; there is
no excuse to stop merely for the sake of exchanging inanities.
Whispering is as rude in public as it is in the ballroom or at the
dinner table. Confidential business should not be discussed on the
street or in the department store; the proper place for such private
affairs is in the office or parlor.
If addressed by a stranger seeking information regarding a certain
street or number, show a cheerful and kindly interest. It is perplexing
and often embarrassing to be in an unfamiliar town or country, and
whatever information you give should be in an interested and courteous
manner.
Someone once said, "If you must do a thing, do it with all your heart.
To do it half-heartedly is to rob it of all its charm." Let this be your
motto in regard to the courtesy extended strangers who seek your aid.
Gibbon said, "Accident is commonly the parent of disorder." But where
there are only people of culture and fine breeding, an accident is
devoid of all haste, hysteria or other indications of disorder of any
kind. It is the final test of correct manners, this being able to
conduct oneself with calmness and dignity even in moments of most
distracting circumstances. And besides its cultural aspects, calmness in
time of danger or accident is often the means of saving lives.
The rules of good breeding are nothing more than the rules of good sense
and these are never put to a more severe test than when an accident
occurs. The person who can keep his head during a fire will be much more
likely to get out of the building than one who loses all control of
himself and becomes hysterical. Presence of mind when someone faints or
is hurt or is in danger often prevents a serious or fatal mishap and
always eliminates a large part of the disorder incidental to such
occasions.
When an automobile or railroad disaster occurs, it is the calm person
who is most helpful. And surely helpfulness is one of the basic terms of
good conduct everywhere.
Ella Wheeler Wilcox, writing about etiquette, said "Etiquette is another
name for kind thought. The man who says 'I know nothing about etiquette'
does not realize that he is saying 'I know nothing about courtesy to my
fellow beings.'" One of the reasons why America has truly been the land
of golden promise to so many strangers from other shores, is that there
are always so many men and women eager to help, eager to show those
little courtesies that warm the heart and rekindle the dying spirit.
Etiquette and courtesy are synonymous.
But it is not alone with the giving of courtesies that we are
interested. It is important that we know the correct way to accept
them. And it is particularly important that we know the correct way to
accept courtesies extended to us in public. There can be nothing more
discouraging to the lover of social etiquette than to see a man give up
his seat in the car to a woman who accepts it without a word of thanks
or a smile.
The question has often been asked whether or not it is correct for a
woman to accept the offer of shelter of an umbrella offered her by a
gentleman who is a perfect stranger. To settle this definitely, we say
that it is absolutely bad form for a woman to accept this courtesy no
matter how hard it is raining and how important the need of saving her
clothes may be. She may, however, accept the courtesy if it is offered
by a gentleman to whom she has been introduced at a dinner, dance,
theater party, or other social function.
If a woman drops her bag or gloves and they are retrieved by a passing
man, it is necessary only to smile and say "Thank you." No further
conversation is permissible. But if a man saves her from some grave
danger, such as being thrown down by a horse, or run over by a car, it
is not only necessary for her to thank him but the woman should ask,
"May I have the pleasure of knowing to whom I am indebted?" To offer
further expression of her obligation the woman would later send some
male member of her family, a brother or husband, to the home of the man
who has been of service to her. She should never offer money in
appreciation of the service, unless it is evident that he is a working
man; and even then she should use tact.
Such courtesies as assisting to pick up bundles that have dropped to the
ground, opening a door that has stuck or giving desired information,
require only the conventional "Thank you." No courtesy, however slight,
should be accepted without evidence of gratification, even though it be
but a slight smile.
When bowing to a woman or in acknowledgment of a greeting, when walking
with a woman and bowing to another man of his acquaintance, a gentleman
raises his hat. Similarly, when bowing to a man who is accompanied by a
woman, the courtesy is observed and also when a man is walking with
another man who lifts his hat in greetings to a friend, whether or not
that friend is known to him personally. The hat is also raised whenever
a gentleman offers a civility to a lady, whether she be friend or
stranger.
Elderly men, superiors in office, clergymen and men of distinction are
entitled to the courtesy of lifting the hat. "Hat in hand goes through
the land" say the Germans. And "Cap in hand never did any harm" is the
gem we find among the Italian proverbs. When in doubt, raise your hat.
Surely it is better to be too polite (if such a thing were possible)
than to be rudely discourteous to someone.
The question of whether or not the hat should be removed in the elevator
is perplexing. Some contend that the elevator is the same as a small
room in a private home, and therefore that the hat should be removed.
Others just as positively declare that the elevator is the same as the
street, and that it is unnecessary to raise the hat. The question of
drafts and colds in the head have entered into the discussion—but
ultimately all writers of etiquette reach the same conclusion: as the
elevator is so small and boasts a ceiling, it may be considered in the
same class as a room, and the polite man will keep his head
uncovered—especially while there are women in it. The man who is very
susceptible to colds may lift his hat upon entering the car and replace
it immediately. But it is not courteous to retain the hat entirely.
It is not enough to know when to raise the hat, one must also know the
accepted manner of doing it. Profound and elaborate bows are
old-fashioned and un-American. While lifting the hat one should incline
the head slightly and smile. But it must be remembered that the
unmannerly habit of touching the hat, instead of lifting it is an
indication of sheer laziness and a lack of gallantry.
"A hat raised half-heartedly is a courtesy without charm" is a proverb
well worth remembering. Why raise your hat at all, if you do it only as
an annoying duty that must be gotten over as quickly as possible? If you
want to be courteous and polite show by your manner that you are
polite. A graceful lifting of the hat is entirely incompatible with an
unsmiling face. But both together—a sincere smile and a graceful
lifting of the hat—are most pleasing to the person for whom the
greeting is intended.
Many gentlemen, while speaking to ladies in the street, stand with their
heads uncovered. While it is a polite custom, it is dangerous to the
health and therefore should not be indulged in except in warm weather.
The most usual method is to lift the hat upon meeting, slowly replace it
during the conversation or while walking beside the lady, and lift it
again when taking leave of her.
"The world is on wheels!" declares a modern writer. "Everyone is going
somewhere, and all the world is moving!" And Dr. Eliot of Harvard, in a
recent newspaper article, deplores the fact that the "younger
generation" is losing in courtesy and good manners that which it is
gaining in this rapid onward rush of the world's affairs.
"There is a general coarsening of manners" declares the president
emeritus of Harvard University. "Young women expect to encounter
rudeness from young men and they do not resent it" and when one watches
the rough-and-tumble manners of people in subways and street cars every
day one is inclined to agree with him.
The custom of relinquishing one's seat, for instance, is not as marked
as it was a decade ago. Perhaps the new suffrage amendments may have
something to do with it. Perhaps the war and woman's changed status is
the reason. Or it may just be a "coarsening of manners." But whatever it
is, we do not find our young men of to-day as eager to relinquish their
seats in the car as they were several years ago.
Women should never indicate by word or glance that they wish a man to
give up his seat. But the woman who is ill, or who is extremely tired
should feel no hesitancy in making the request if her need is really
great. When the seat is given, the owner should be thanked for his
kindness. This holds true whether the courtesy has been requested or
whether it has been spontaneous.
Boisterous action in the street car is inexcusable—as it is anywhere
else. The girl of mirthful disposition who laughs loudly may not be
doing it to attract attention to herself but merely to give vent to her
gay spirits, but it is most unattractive. "All noise is waste"—but it
is more than waste in public where it reflects ill-breeding upon the
person who is the perpetrator.
In ascending a car on an omnibus, a man assists the woman he is
escorting by a slight touch at the elbow. He enters after her, finding
her a seat and taking his place next to her. If there is only one empty
place in the car, he stands directly in front of her, or as near as
possible. If a man relinquishes his seat to the woman, the escort must
lift his hat and offer a word of thanks for the kindness. A smile from
the woman is sufficient. In leaving the car the order is reversed; the
gentleman leaves first and assists the woman in alighting.
A man pays all fares and fees for the woman he is escorting. But when a
man meets a woman in the street by chance and they both enter a car
together, he is not under obligation to pay her fare. Common sense has
made a rule of its own in this matter, and some men insist upon paying
the fare of women they meet even inside the car. But etiquette tells us
that only an escort is under obligation to pay the fare of a woman.
Here again the woman enters first, assisted by her escort. There is no
rule as to which side she should take in the car; she enters first and
takes the furthest seat, whether it be to the right or left. In
alighting the man again leads the way, assisting the woman to reach the
ground safely.
A word of caution will not be amiss here. No woman or girl should ride
in a taxicab with a man who is not her escort, unless she has a very
good reason for doing so. It is not conventional, and in most cases it
is not prudent. The woman with a fine regard for all the little niceties
of good conduct, who wishes to observe the rules of etiquette in their
truest sense, does not ride in a taxicab with a man, and allow him to
pay the bill, unless he is acting as her escort. And ordinarily, a
gentleman of polished manners does not ask a lady to ride with him
unless he is taking her to a social function such as a dance, formal
dinner or theater party.
If the taxicab has double seats, the man should take his place with his
back facing the driver, unless he is an old friend of many years'
standing. A new acquaintance should not take the liberty of sharing a
seat in the taxicab with a young woman unless she has particularly asked
him to do so.
Reserve should not be confused with haughtiness. The first is a
necessary social attribute; the second is a regrettable social evil that
should be carefully avoided.
To be haughty, proud, superior, is to indicate that you hold those
beneath you in contempt. When etiquette is based on courtesy and a
consideration for the rights and comforts of a fellow-man, one readily
sees why this is a mistake. A haughty person is a conceited person. A
haughty person is an unkind person. And therefore, a haughty person is
an uncultured person.
Reserve, on the other hand, is a calm dignity that comes with the
knowledge that one does and says only what is entirely correct. It is
that certain well-poised sureness of oneself entirely devoid of all
semblance of pride,—yet with sufficient self-respect to attract
instinctively the respect of others. Reserve is that which is developed
only after close application to, and experience in, the laws of good
conduct. Haughtiness is merely a sham drapery used to cover the defects
of uncultured manners.
The other extreme of haughtiness is self-consciousness. Both faults are
the result of too much self-thought. To overcome self-consciousness,
which makes you awkward, easily embarrassed, and ill at ease—think less
of yourself! Think of the books you have read, of the people you have
met, of the new scenes you have observed. Take a more keen interest in
people. Speak to them. Don't be afraid of them. But most important of
all, forget yourself. And before you realize it, you will have developed
sufficient poise and unself-consciousness to be confident to appear in
the most elaborate drawing-room, among the most brilliant and highly
cultured people, without feeling the least bit ill at ease.
"Our personal appearance is our show window where we insert what we have
for sale, and we are judged by what we put there." If you remember to
observe this bit of philosophy of Orison S. Marden's—not only in dress,
but in speech and manners and bearing—you will invariably do and say
and wear what is correct in public.
For a matinee a simple street dress of a dark material is appropriate
except during the summer months when one may wear dainty fabrics and
light colors.
In the evening if one is to sit in a box one should wear evening dress,
not so elaborate, however, as that worn at a ball or dance. If one is to
sit in the orchestra full or semi-evening attire is appropriate but in
the cheaper seats such attire is out of order. Plain street dress should
be worn.
There is one law of good conduct that cannot be over-emphasized—and
that is the law of making oneself inconspicuous. A man or woman who is
the "center of attraction" when the occasion does not merit it, cannot
claim the distinction of being entirely well-bred. There seems to be a
certain dignified simplicity and modesty in dress, speech and behavior
that distinguishes well-bred people and enables them to move with ease
and unconscious grace among people of every status and position.
Whether it be the theater, opera, lecture or some other public
entertainment, it is exceedingly bad form to arrive late. People who are
considerate always make it a point to arrive five or ten minutes before
the hour set for the performance.
When one is unavoidably detained and reaches the theater after the
curtain has been raised, it is polite to remain at the rear of the
auditorium until the first intermission. It is permissible to take one's
place quickly and quietly while the audience is applauding; but it is
rude and inconsiderate to attempt to find your place while the
performers are on the stage and the attention of the audience has been
fixed.
It is good form for the man or woman who arrives late to excuse himself
or herself to the people who are disturbed while the vacant place is
being reached. One may say, "I am sorry to disturb you," or, "Pardon
me." Those who are seated should rise to allow passage if the place is
very narrow, but if there is sufficient room for them to pass without
stumbling it is better for those who are already seated to keep their
places, drawing aside to facilitate matters for the new-comers.
It is customary for a woman to slip off her wrap in the lobby and carry
it on her arm to her place, where it may either be placed over the back
of her chair or folded in her lap. Some big theaters now have checking
rooms for women, where wraps may be left until after the performance.
Other theaters arrange for a wrap-checking service in the ladies'
dressing-room. Individual preference must decide whether the wrap shall
be checked or kept with one. But to stand up after the play has begun,
and leisurely divest oneself of one's wraps, is a breach of good
manners. If her wrap is a light one a woman may keep it on until she is
seated and then slip it off her shoulders and let it fall over the back
of her chair.
Hat and veil are usually removed after one has been comfortably seated.
Or, if one prefers, they may be checked in the dressing-room. In the
evening, when décolleté is worn with an evening veil and no hat, the
veil may be dropped over the shoulders and kept throughout the evening.
A very common fault is to begin to put on wraps and hats before the
performance is over. This is rude to the performers and unjust to the
people around you. Wraps should not be touched until the curtain has
fallen for the last time, even though one is anxious to leave.
Politeness is a vital law of good conduct, and certainly nothing could
be more impolite than to interrupt an actor or lecturer by fussing with
clothing.
Gentlemen usually check their hats and coats in the lobby; otherwise
they remove them both before taking their places. The hat is deposited
under the chair, and the coat may either be folded and placed over the
knees, or over the back of the seat.
There seems to be some doubt as to the correct order of precedence upon
entering and leaving the theater or concert hall. Some authorities on
etiquette claim that the correct order is for the usher to lead the way
to the seats, the lady following immediately behind him, and after the
lady, her escort. But more modern usage has changed this order of
precedence.
To-day it is correct for the usher to lead the way, a few feet ahead of
the gentleman. Immediately behind the gentleman follows the lady. The
reason for this change is that it enables the gentleman to stop before
their places and hand the lady to her seat. Otherwise this duty devolves
upon the usher. However, as the lady precedes the gentleman in almost
everything else, it is safe to assume that both methods of precedence
given above are correct.
One thing is certain—it is absolutely incorrect for lady and gentleman
to walk down the aisle together, arm in arm.
Upon entering a theater or concert hall a few moments before the curtain
is drawn, one becomes immediately conscious of the gentle buzz of voices
throughout the audience. While it is entirely permissible to carry on a
conversation before the play begins, it is most offensive to those who
are sitting near for one to act in a noisy, conspicuous manner. Low
tones are a mark of cultivation. As a matter of fact, loud noise of any
kind is an exhibition of thoughtlessness, and it can be so easily
avoided by a little caution.
Another reprehensible habit often indulged in before the play is that of
standing up and glancing around one in the search of a familiar face,
then nodding and smiling conspicuously to a friend in some other part of
the auditorium. After having once been seated one should remain so,
instead of rising and disturbing others. It is merely a form of vanity
to search for friends among the audience and endeavor to attract their
attention.
A certain gayety of manner is, of course, in harmony with the occasion,
but it should be the kind of gayety that is under control. It is
commendable to be smiling and cheerful—but be careful that you do not
laugh boisterously or talk loudly.
The first chord of the orchestra should be the sign for absolute quiet
in the theater. There can be nothing quite as rude as continuing a
conversation while the musicians are doing their best to entertain you.
Usually, when the orchestra begins, programs are hastily opened and
scanned. This causes an unpleasant rustling sound that mars the effect
of the music and is sometimes very disturbing to music-lovers who are
sitting near you. The time to glance through the program is while you
are waiting for the play to begin, and before the musicians have taken
their places. Then it should not be referred to again until during
intermission.
People who arrive while the orchestra is playing should be particularly
quiet. Care should be taken that chairs are not clattered or allowed to
drop noisily.
It hardly seems necessary to say that talking or continued whispering
during a performance is ill-bred and rude. Young people are most at
fault in this matter. They must learn to curb their enthusiasms and
criticisms until after the performance or during the intermissions.
"The intelligent listener never interrupts" declares an eminent
authority. Complete quiet should be maintained during a performance or
concert; all talking or whispering is interruption. Beating time to the
music, whistling or rustling programs are also unmannerly.
If anyone near you is inconsiderate enough to talk or hum during the
performance, it is entirely proper to turn and in quiet tones request
that he or she be more quiet. It is necessary, though that you do not
speak in a curt or offensive manner that will cause antagonism on the
part of the stranger. A kind request always meets with an immediate
response. You might say, "Pardon me. Do you mind speaking a little
lower?" or "Would you mind speaking more quietly?" It is polite, also,
to offer a reason, as "I cannot hear very well. Will you please speak
more softly?" If the person thus addressed complies with your request
and answers you politely, you should acknowledge it with a very
courteous "Thank you." But there should be no further conversation
during the performance.
The polite woman removes her hat as soon as she is comfortably seated.
To wear a hat that obstructs the view of the people behind is
inconsiderate—and anything that is inconsiderate is also ill-bred.
If you find that it is necessary to ask the woman sitting before you to
remove her hat, be sure that you couch your request in terms of careful
politeness. This is very important. The cultured man or woman is polite
at all times, and especially so when reminding someone of a politeness
that has been overlooked. It should be remembered that a hearty smile
and a friendly manner go a long way in winning a similar response.
"Pardon me, madam, but may I ask that you remove your hat?" is the form
usually used. But a better way is to offer some explanation, as, "I am
sorry to disturb you, but your hat is in my way. Will you kindly remove
it?" The simple form "Will you please remove your hat?" is sufficient if
it is accompanied by a pleasant smile. But under no circumstances is a
curt, "Take off your hat" permissible. If one hesitates to speak to a
stranger he or she may call the usher and request him to ask the
offender to remove her hat.
The woman thus addressed may, upon complying with the request, either
smile and remain silent, or say simply, "Yes, indeed." Other forms
frequently used are "Certainly," "I am sorry," or, "Pardon me." The two
latter forms are perhaps the best, for they indicate that the offender
realizes her lack of politeness and is sorry.
Clapping hands is a natural language of delight. Very young infants clap
their hands when they are happy. Children clap their hands to express
their pleasure. And older people clap their hands to show appreciation
and enjoyment.
But stamping of feet, whistling, or noisy acclamation of any kind is bad
form. This may seem superfluous in a book of etiquette, but it is
surprising how many otherwise cultured men stamp noisily or whistle when
something said or done upon the stage particularly pleases them.
Ill-timed or continual applause is disturbing to performers and audience
alike. Indiscriminate hand-clapping is not only annoying, but reflects
poor judgment upon the offender. When you feel that an actor or lecturer
merits applause, give him a short and hearty hand-clapping, but do not
make the mistake of clapping noisily and excessively each time the
opportunity presents itself.
It should be particularly remembered that ill-timed applause hinders the
progress of the performers.
At a theater party, when there are several men and women in the party,
the men may take advantage of the intermission to leave their places for
a few moments. But they must not indulge in this privilege more than
once during a performance, if they wish to be polite and considerate to
the ladies. And they should not go without excusing themselves to the
ladies whom they are escorting.
When a young man and woman are together, it is the height of
ill-breeding for him to leave her alone during intermission. If he
wishes water or candy or programs, the usher will attend to it for him.
He must not leave the lady alone unless she requests him to get
something for her. A gentleman alone may, of course, come and go as he
pleases during intermission.
If one must walk past strangers to leave one's seat for intermission, or
if one wishes to leave before the performance is over, a courteous
apology must be made to the people who are disturbed. "I beg your
pardon," or, "May I trouble you to pass?" are the forms most frequently
used. When the aisle is reached, it is polite to acknowledge the
obligation by smiling and saying, "Thank you."
Photo by George H. Davis, Jr. Courtesy of the Woman's Home Companion.
THE BUFFET LUNCH
The informality of the buffet lunch permits the use of paper napkins but
the hostess may use linen ones if she prefers
During intermission it is permissible to step across the aisle or into
another box to greet a friend. Often introductions are made, but they
are not formal and need not gain future recognition. As soon as the
curtain begins to rise, the caller must return to his own place.
If you wish your acquaintances to recognize your charm and cultivation,
you should conduct yourself at the conclusion of the performance with
the same quiet dignity that you observed when you entered the theater
and while you were waiting for it to begin. Speak in low tones, smile
but do not laugh, discuss the play but do it in so quiet a manner that
no one but your companion will hear you. It is bad form to gather in
small groups and discuss the play in loud tones. Leave the theater as
quickly as possible. The attendants are waiting to close it.
It usually takes a long time for a large theater to be emptied because
many inconsiderate people block the aisles and loiter at the rear of the
auditorium. As soon as the curtain has fallen for the last time, gather
your wraps together, slip them on if it is convenient and move quickly
down the aisle to the rear. Then pass quickly out of the theater and out
of the way. But if you still carry your wraps, you may either go to the
dressing-room or remain a moment or two in the lobby until you have
arranged them.
Shakespeare said, "All the world's a stage." If this is true, do we not
owe the stage the same courtesy, respect and honor that we owe the world
of fellow-men? Be as well-mannered and courteous at the theater and
opera as you would in the most fastidious drawing-room.
There is a very distinct code of ethics by which the lady and gentleman
must be governed when stopping at a hotel. It is a mistaken idea that
one may act as one pleases, merely because the hotel is public. But it
is as important to remember one's social obligations as it is in the
home of a friend.
Indeed, the hotel is one place where men and women are most likely to
make embarrassing blunders and commit humiliating mistakes. This is
especially true of the man or woman from a small town who stops for a
day or two at a big hotel in the city. Only by knowing thoroughly the
laws of good conduct, as adapted to hotel life, can one expect to move
smoothly and with ease through its often puzzling social intricacies.
At home, or even when visiting at a friend's home, a boor may remain
undetected. But how quickly the truth appears after he has registered at
a hotel! There are numerous little tests of good breeding that betray
him; the servants themselves soon discover whether or not he is
cultivated, well-bred. And they invariably treat him accordingly.
The definite rules will be given in the following paragraphs. But for
one's general conduct it should be remembered solely that the
hospitality of a hotel is no less worthy of courtesy and consideration
than the hospitality extended by a friend.
To-day women stop at hotels much more frequently than they did a decade
ago. The war brought with it a widened horizon for the women of America,
and they travel all over the country on political, professional and
business enterprises as well as for pleasure. It is, consequently,
necessary for them to stop often at hotels; thus they must know exactly
how to conduct themselves.
Some hotels, in smaller towns, have ladies' entrances. The woman visitor
should first ascertain whether or not there are such entrances, and if
so should govern her actions accordingly. But in large cities, hotels
generally have but one large entrance where the woman may enter without
embarrassment. Business often takes the modern woman into strange towns,
and there is no reason why she should feel the least hesitancy in
stopping at a hotel—providing she knows how to conduct herself.
Hand baggage should be relinquished at the door to attendants of the
hotel. The woman should make her way immediately to the desk-clerk,
register, and then follow the page assigned to her, to her room. It is
not good form to loiter in the lobby before going to one's room after
one has registered. A wise plan is to call the hotel on the telephone
beforehand, requesting them to reserve a room or suite of rooms as the
case may be. This will eliminate any possibility of having to leave the
hotel because there is no room. It is always a wise plan for a woman to
reserve a room in advance, especially if she is to arrive late at night
since certain hostelries refuse to admit women after a certain hour.
The day of the chaperon is practically over, except in the cases of very
young girls. But women to-day travel very often in the company of their
maids. Whether one double room or two single rooms adjoining each other
are chosen, depends upon the degree of intimacy between mistress and
maid, and also upon convenience and accommodation at the hotel. The
usual form is to reserve two adjoining rooms.
A woman never stops at a hotel without baggage. Even though she intends
to stay only over-night, she should carry a small handbag with her. A
woman traveling across country with a great deal of baggage may have her
trunks sent on ahead to the hotel if she reserves rooms previously. On
no occasion should the woman approach the clerk's desk laden with
valises and bags. A hotel attendant should take them from the car and
deposit them on the floor near the desk; or the guest's chauffeur should
deposit them at the entrance of the hotel, to be attended to by one of
the hotel attendants.
A gentleman calling upon a lady who is stopping at a hotel, gives his
name to the desk clerk. It is not necessary to offer a card. The form in
most common usage is, "Mr. Roberts to see Miss Nelson." The clerk will
call Miss Nelson on the telephone or will direct him to one of the
telephones in the lobby, and advise her of the visitor. If she is ill
and does not wish to see him, she will say, "Please tell Mr. Roberts I
am indisposed and I am sorry that I cannot see him to-day." But she
should not refuse to see a visitor without offering some sort of
legitimate excuse. If she is not ready to greet visitors, she may say to
the clerk, "Tell Mr. Roberts I shall be downstairs in a half-hour." That
is the maximum amount of time it is permissible to keep a visitor
waiting.
Ladies receive the gentlemen who call on them in the parlor or reception
room of the hotel. They may be hatless and gloveless, if they wish,
observing the same rules of etiquette that they would observe in their
drawing-room at home. But if the visits are entirely of a business
nature, it is always advisable for the woman to wear a hat.
To welcome a man in one's room is to break a convention that has many
years of strict practice to uphold it. It is a serious blunder in hotel
etiquette.
If a gentleman calls upon a lady at a hotel, whether it be in a business
or social capacity, and finds that she is not in, he may leave his card
with the desk clerk to be forwarded to her. It is necessary, however,
that he write on the back of the card for whom it is intended; for the
memories of desk clerks are not quite as retentive as some of us think
they are, and there is a possibility of the card being sent to the wrong
guest.
Hotels have the alarming propensity of making one feel extremely lonely,
especially if one is stopping there all by oneself. And there is the
very strong temptation to forget all about conventionalities and speak
to the friendly-looking old gentleman at the next table, or the charming
young woman in the dressing-room. But everyone, and the woman
especially, should be extremely careful in making friends and
acquaintances at the hotel.
Self-introductions are not unusual at the hotel. In the dining-room, in
the lobby, in the rest-rooms, conversations are often started that
result in self-introductions and subsequent acquaintanceships. But one
should be prudent. It is not wise to go beyond the usual civilities of
greetings and casual conversations or to take anyone into your
confidence.
While conducting yourself with all due courtesy and consideration for
the hospitality extended by the hotel, it is important to remember that
after all the hotel is not a private home, but a temporary one for
travelers—for the public. The conventions you observe in public must
therefore also be observed at the hotel. Strangers still remain
strangers, even though you sleep under the same roof with them.
If a gentleman becomes interested in another gentleman, either in the
hotel lobby or the dining-room, and he wishes to become acquainted with
him either for business or social reasons, he may request the manager of
the hotel to make the necessary introduction. He may also indulge in the
self-introduction, but it is never as effective as the introduction made
by a third person.
It is not considered dignified for a woman traveling alone to sign
herself in the hotel register without the title of "Mrs." or "Miss." A
married woman should register as "Mrs. Harris K. Jennings," an unmarried
woman as "Miss Mildred Jennings." It is decidedly bad form to sign
oneself "Millie Jennings," or "Flossie Jennings" for Florence. The full
first and last name should be written out and preceded by the correct
title of "Miss" or "Mrs." Only the eldest daughter, or only daughter, of
a family may sign herself, "Miss Jennings."
When traveling together, a mother and daughter register as "Mrs. Harris
K. Jennings, Miss Mildred Jennings." Even a very young girl is
registered in this manner. A small boy's name appears in the register as
"Master Edward Jennings." A husband and wife register as "Mr. and Mrs.
Harris K. Jennings." To use the expression "Mr. Harris K. Jennings and
wife" is considered very bad form indeed. Only those who are ignorant of
the best rules of hotel etiquette make this blunder.
After the name, the town and state from which the visitors have come
should be written in the register. Thus the complete entry of a young
lady would be, "Miss Mildred Jennings, Cambridge, Mass." A gentleman
would register in this manner, "Mr. Harris K. Jennings, 681 Fifth Ave.,
New York." Even if he lives in New York and stops at a hotel in that
city, he must write "New York" after his name. Nor is it correct for him
to omit the "Mr." from before his name.
Deep flourishes and illegible handwriting should be avoided. The
well-bred man or woman registers neatly in a clear, small, legible
script.
"A gentleman is known by the way he eats," declared a well-known writer
recently in one of his newspaper articles. And this is particularly true
in the hotel dining-room, where one is judged—or misjudged—by one's
table manners; and one should remember to make them as gracefully
correct as if the dinner were a most formal one in a private home.
If you drop a fork or other part of the table service, do not stoop to
pick it up. Simply ignore the incident and leave it to the waiter to
attend to. A most reprehensible habit is to pick up a knife or fork that
has been dropped, wipe it carefully with the napkin, and proceed to use
it. The correct thing to do is to leave the fork or knife on the floor
where it has fallen and request another one from the waiter in charge.
It is optional with the ladies whether or not they wear their hats to
dinner. In the dining-rooms of the larger hotels, however, women
generally do not appear hatless. Even though one is a permanent guest
and a special table is reserved for one each evening, it is better to
wear a hat to dinner at the hotel.
Loud laughing and talking reflect ill-manners. And this applies not only
to the dining-room, but to the private rooms as well. As a rule, the
partitions in hotels are thin and talking that is the least bit loud can
be heard in the next room. For this reason, it is also discourteous to
play any musical instrument at such times of the day when it would be
likely to disturb those whose rooms adjoin. At the table, conversation
may be conducted only when low, natural tones of voice are used. Loud
talking should be avoided.
Guests who wish to eat in their rooms should request that a waiter be
sent to the room with a menu. The order is given, and the waiter will
see that it is satisfactorily filled. For this service he should receive
an extra fee from the guest.
Hotels invariably place a supply of writing paper in the room. This is
meant for the business or social correspondence of the guest. More of
this paper is usually found in the writing-room.
Do not waste the hotel stationery. Use it only if you have to. You would
not waste the stationery provided for your use at the home of your
friend. Then why take advantage of the courtesies extended by your
hotel? Just as one adapts oneself to the routine at the home of a
friend, so should one accustom and adapt oneself to the rules and
regulations of the hotel.
Never take any of the hotel stationery away with you. It is as wrong in
principle as carrying away one of the Turkish towels. Use only as much
as you need for your correspondence, and leave the rest behind you.
Arrogance is only another form of selfish pride. The man or woman who is
cultured is never arrogant. After all, isn't it sham—sham adopted to
cover the defects of manner and bearing?
If you are dissatisfied with some service performed by one of the hotel
attendants, if one of them is inattentive to your wants or negligible in
his duties, complain to the manager. Do not scold the servants
themselves, or order them in a peremptory manner to do such and such a
thing correctly. The greatest vulgarity—and you will do well to
remember this—is to look down upon a person as inferior merely because
he or she has to earn his or her own living. There is nothing to be
ashamed of in good, honest, faithful toil. But the person who ridicules
it has a great deal to be ashamed of.
Be considerate to the hotel attendants. Do not expect the maid to come
hurrying to your room when you ring at one o'clock in the morning. The
guest who is kind and thoughtful will receive twice as much service as
the person who is constantly complaining and scolding.
When you are ready to leave the hotel, call an attendant to carry your
baggage down to the entrance. Do not attempt to carry it down yourself,
whether you are a man or woman, unless you have only one or two small
valises.
Different hotels have different rules with regard to keys. Some require
that the key be returned to the desk clerk. Others require that it be
left in the room. When in doubt, the best form is to return the key at
the desk before asking the cashier for one's bill. After this is paid,
ring for a servant to call a car; never do this yourself.
Tipping, though an entirely un-American custom, is still widely
practiced. When leaving the hotel, it is necessary to tip, or fee, those
hotel attendants who have been of service.
Man is essentially a restless being. Ever since the world began, men and
women have found themselves growing impatient, eager for new scenes, new
faces, new experiences. First they packed up their few belongings and
moved by foot to another place a few miles away. Then they took down
their tents and put them up in some other place. Soon we find them
building houses, and at different periods moving to other houses.
Gradually, through the ages, as man's desire for wider experiences and a
wider radius for travel and exploration developed, the horse-drawn
carriage appeared, then the steamboat, then the locomotive, the surface
car, the subway, the automobile and airplane.
Diogenes with his lantern could not find an honest man, and he would
have just as difficult a task to-day to find a man, woman or child who
does not love to travel. Everyone likes to see new scenes, meet new
people, enjoy new experiences; and the easiest way to accomplish this is
through traveling.
In America, where almost everyone is something of a tourist, the
etiquette of travel must not be neglected. And it is particularly
important that the customs of foreign countries be respected, especially
now that the world is becoming one great family and intercourse among
the nations is increasing every day.
Somehow, we Americans feel that there is no other country in the world
quite as wonderful as our dear United States. There is, of course, no
reason why we should not believe this; but it is bad form and poor
judgment to show by action and speech in other countries that you
believe it. The man or woman who affects a supercilious disdain of all
foreign countries and their forms and customs, is not impressing the
natives with his vast superiority, but is really convincing them that he
or she is an ill-bred simpleton. And even our beloved America is hardly
perfect enough to warrant a great deal of boasting.
In traveling abroad, every national prejudice, every custom of every
little town or village, should be observed as nearly as possible. "When
in Rome do as the Romans do" is the truest courtesy that can be observed
by those who travel. Well-bred and polite people conform to native
customs no matter how strange they may appear. And they do it
gracefully, with a smile of friendliness rather than one of disdain.
In her book "Fear and Conventionality," Elsie Parsons relates an
incident during her visit to Tokyo. She and her companions were the
guests of Japan. As they were on their way to the station, the natives
stole up furtively and placed cards in their carriages. Realizing that
it must be some native custom, the occupants of the carriages merely
smiled and allowed the cards to remain. Perhaps if they had been haughty
individuals they might have scowled at the seeming intrusion, thrown
aside the cards, and won the everlasting hate of the natives not only
for themselves but for all future American tourists. For one ill-bred
traveler makes it hard for the next people who pass along the same
route, however courteous they may be. The best way to make a pleasant
journey is to adapt oneself graciously and courteously to varying
circumstances and conditions.
It is not wise to overburden oneself with numerous clothes when
traveling. Wardrobes can always be replenished if the necessity arises,
in other countries, and there is really no need to impede one's journey
with numerous trunks and handbags that must be constantly checked,
looked after and traced. Many people have journeyed happily all over
Europe with only a suit case or two.
Women should dress quietly and inconspicuously when traveling. A dark,
tailored suit with light blouses is in excellent taste, especially when
worn with a small dark turban or toque. In her wardrobe should be
simple, but smart frocks for the afternoon, an evening gown, numerous
fresh blouses and perhaps a sport outfit or two. An abundant supply of
fresh undergarments is essential, but even these can be bought during
the trip if the supply does not hold out. Remember that it is a wise
rule to take too little rather than too much. An experienced traveler
can usually be distinguished by the small amount of luggage he carries.
The wardrobe of the gentleman traveling should also be as small as
possible. Of course the number of suits and the quantity of linen he
takes with him depends upon the length of his trip and the social
activities he expects to indulge in.
If the trip is to be one of long duration the porter will provide a
paper bag in which the hat may be placed. On a trip of this kind it is
permissible to make oneself at ease by removing hat and wraps and
leaning against a pillow which the porter will furnish upon request.
An ill-bred person is always known by his selfishness and discourtesy in
the train. He will claim more service and comfort than he is entitled
to. He will scold the attendants and make himself generally a nuisance.
He will encroach upon the rights of others, assume an air of importance,
and make himself conspicuous by his actions and manners.
When in the train, be as solicitous of the passenger's comforts as you
would be of your dearest friend's, if he or she were traveling with you.
Do not keep your window open if you know that it is causing discomfort
to others. Do not spread your hand-luggage into the aisles where other
passengers will be likely to trip over it. It is good nature, courtesy
and an affable adaptation to unexpected circumstances that mark the lady
and gentleman in traveling.
If someone opens a window that places you in a draught or exposes you to
flying cinders or other discomforts, it is permissible to request
politely that the window be lowered again. The courteous man or woman
will do so immediately without impatience or annoyance.
All boisterous behavior, loud laughing and talking, are as reprehensible
in the train as they are in the drawing-room. Composure of manner and a
calm, easy grace distinguish the cultured traveler. He who is restless,
excitable, fidgety, who talks in loud tones, walks back and forth to
the water cooler many times, arranges and rearranges his belongings, is
merely advertising to the other passengers in the train that he is
traveling for the first time, and that he does not know how to conduct
himself.
It should be remembered that the railroad train is a public place, and
therefore it is not correct to discuss family affairs or converse loudly
about people who are absent while you are traveling on it. This habit of
talking about people who are absent is most uncivil. How often do we
overhear conversations in which some unfortunate man or woman is "picked
to pieces" by inconsiderate friends or acquaintances who mean no harm
and bear no malice but having nothing else to talk about, choose their
friend as the subject of their conversation. It is unkind, and it is
certainly bad form.
In traveling on the sleeping car the person who has the lower berth is
entitled to the seat facing forward while the one with the upper berth
has the seat facing backward. If a lady was unable to procure a lower
berth and the gentleman beneath her offers to exchange she may at
discretion accept the offer.
When one is ready to go to bed he rings for the porter to prepare the
berth. In crowded trains it may be some time before this can be done and
the owner of the berth must be patient until his turn comes. It is
courteous to consult one's seat mate before asking to have the beds made
for the night, and if one wishes to go to bed early because of fatigue
or slight illness, he may politely beg of his partner to allow him to do
so.
The person who is to spend the night on the train should provide himself
with a dressing gown, a traveling toilette case containing the necessary
accessories such as brushes, soap, tooth-paste, pins, etc. One may dress
and undress in the regular dressing room but many people prefer to
accomplish the greater part of their toilette in their berths. It is not
permissible to take exclusive possession of the dressing-room or to
spread one's belongings out so as to be in the way of the other
travelers.
A gentleman always steps aside to permit a woman to enter a train first.
He does not rush ahead of her for a choice seat, nor does he open a
window near her without having first requested and obtained her
permission to do so.
Civility of the highest sort is possible when traveling in a train. One
may be courteous to the gruff ticket collector and polite to the
bustling expressman. A "soft answer turneth away wrath"—and we usually
find that a curt, peremptory order receives response that is no less
curt; but a kind and courteous request invariably receives an immediate
friendly response. "Thank you" is never superfluous, and it is only the
exceedingly impolite man who fails to say it when some service, no
matter how trivial, has been performed for him.
When a gentleman sees that a woman passenger is having difficulty in
raising a window, he need feel no hesitancy in offering to assist her.
However, the courtesy ends when the window has been raised; he resumes
his seat and the incident is closed. It is incorrect for him to attempt
a conversation with her or to intrude upon her in any way. The gentleman
should also offer his seat to a woman standing in an overcrowded train,
or to a man very much older than himself. A man or woman carrying a
child should never be permitted to remain standing.
A gentleman never allows a woman to feel incumbent upon him for monetary
assistance. For instance, if a young and inexperienced woman is
traveling alone and seems to be in doubt as to where she will be able to
get something to eat, the gentleman may offer to send a porter to take
her order. Or if no porter can be found, he may himself get her a
sandwich and a glass of milk. But he must absolutely accept the money
expended for these articles, otherwise the young woman will undoubtedly
feel embarrassed.
Women travel about much more independently to-day than ever before. We
find young and elderly women traveling across country for business
purposes, for relaxation, and for pleasure. And though conventions are
no less strict than they were twenty-five years ago, these women who
travel are enjoying a much wider and more untrammeled freedom than their
grandmothers ever enjoyed.
Women who have not had much experience in traveling, who are ignorant of
the laws of good conduct while en route, are prone to expect a great
many courtesies and much attention from the train officials and from the
gentlemen passengers. Very often they make themselves appear rude and
ill-bred by their assumed manner of haughtiness. It is the quiet,
dignified manner that commands respect; not the exacting, fault-finding
and imperious one that so many women like to affect.
The woman on a train should never sacrifice the comfort of the people
around her for her own. It is exceedingly discourteous to insist upon
having a window open, when you know that others around you object, even
though they are all men. And it is just as discourteous to accept a seat
that a gentleman has kindly relinquished, or to accept any other
courtesy, without offering polite thanks.
It is bad form to get excited over every little thing that happens. A
two-minute delay, a brief unexplained stop, is enough to make some women
fret and fume.
The woman who travels alone should maintain a great deal of dignity and
reserve. She should not make an acquaintance of any fellow-passengers of
either sex, and she should not accept courtesies from anyone without
cordial thanks. But beyond those few conventional words of thanks, there
should be no conversation with a man or woman she does not know. And
yet, when the journey is a very long one, lasting perhaps more than a
day, what harm can it be for a woman to chat a bit about the scenery or
the newest "best-seller" with the motherly looking woman beside her?
Common-sense is often the better part of etiquette.
When a man serves as escort to a woman who is traveling by train, he
incurs all expenses. He buys her ticket at the station, attends to the
checking and directing of her luggage, carries her hand-bags and sees
that she is comfortably seated. He pays for all magazines and
newspapers that she wishes and fees the porter that has helped her. He
also buys and pays for all refreshments taken during the trip.
A lady invariably precedes her escort down the aisle of the train. She
takes the inside seat and leaves the arranging of the luggage and wraps
to the gentleman. He may, if he excuses himself, spend part of the trip
in the smoking car, but it is exceedingly rude of him to leave the lady
by herself throughout the trip. In fact, it is wise after the first few
hours of travel, to leave the lady to her own devices for she may want
to nap or to read a book. Even one's dearest friend, or one's favorite
brother can become monotonous and tiresome after four or five hours of
continuous conversation on a noisy train.
When a man meets a woman on a train, and after a brief conversation,
invites her into the dining-car, she may assume that he wishes to be the
host and that he would be offended if she refused to allow him to pay
for her meal. However, the woman who travels alone must be extremely
circumspect in her conduct, and she must not incur monetary obligations
from men who are almost strangers to her.
For instance, if a man and woman who have met just once before and who
are not really friends but slight acquaintances, find that they are
traveling to the same place at the same time, they may for mutual
pleasure's sake, elect to travel together. This is especially true when
the journey is one of four or five hours' duration, when a bit of
conversation would enliven the monotony of the trip. In this case, if
both decide to go into the dining-room together, the woman must by no
means allow the man to pay her bill. He may pay the tip, if he wishes,
but he must accept the money that she offers him to pay for her share of
the bill. A considerate woman will wait until they are back at their
seats before venturing to reimburse her companion. It is better to have
the waiter present separate bills. This does away with all awkwardness
and embarrassment.
A gentleman who is escorting a lady on a trip should not be expected to
pay for her meals on the train, unless there is only one and he feels
that it would be a pleasure for him to serve as host on that occasion.
But if the trip lasts several days, the woman should insist that she pay
her own expenses. This is especially important if the escort is a friend
and not a relative; she should by no means allow him to pay her bills.
Very often it is necessary for parents to travel with their children.
The mother must see that her youngsters observe the most careful order
while they are in the train and that they do not disturb the other
passengers.
It is not very pleasant for young children to sit quietly for three or
four hours, and the wise mother will see that they have something to
amuse themselves with. A big picture book for the boy, a doll for the
girl or some other equally interesting diversion will keep the child
from becoming impatient and restless.
It is very wrong to permit children to race up and down the aisles, to
climb over the backs of the seats, to play noisy games or in any other
manner disturb the other passengers. Nor is it proper for them to eat
continually, crumbling cake and dropping fruit stones upon the floor of
the train. Correct, well-bred little boys and girls will remain quietly
seated in their places, watching the scenery or looking at the pictures
in the book; and if they converse at all, it will be in a low tone that
does not annoy the man or woman in front who is reading. It is never too
early to teach children the golden rule of courtesy and respect.
If a child is addressed by a kindly neighbor, he should answer politely;
but he must not leave his place and go over to that neighbor to be
flattered and indulged, and perhaps plied with sweets that will do him
more harm than good. Courtesies extended children should be gratefully
acknowledged both by the child himself and by his mother.
When one arrives at a station one usually has to summon a taxi to the
hotel. It is hardly safe for a young woman traveling alone at night to
ride in a taxi by herself especially if the ride is to be a long one.
The best way to avoid it is for her if possible to time her trip so as
to arrive in the day time. If this cannot be done she must perforce
accept the alternative.
If a man and woman are traveling together he helps her in before getting
in himself. At the end of the ride he first helps her out and then pays
and tips the driver. Ten per cent. of the amount of the fare is the
usual rate. Unless a man is acting as a woman's escort he should not pay
her fare.
Many people like to send their friends bon voyage gifts of flowers,
books, fruit or candy when they are going away. Steamer letters are
always acceptable and if they are arranged in some novel way they may
be most delightful. A series of letters or small packages, one to be
opened each day, go a long way toward relieving the tedium of the
journey. Similar gifts may be sent to friends who are going on a long
railway trip. The address of packages sent to steamers should include
the name of the vessel and of the line to which it belongs and the
number of the pier.
The only place where formal introductions are not necessary is at sea.
Life on shipboard is more or less free from conventionality,
fortunately, especially for those who are making the voyage alone. The
days would be long and tedious if one refused to speak to any of the
other passengers because they had not been formally presented. It is
quite permissible, if one feels so inclined, to speak to the person
whose steamer chair is near or to the people who share one's table in
the ship's dining-room.
Although the barriers of social etiquette are let down on board the ship
to the extent of permitting passengers to talk to one another without
formal introductions, there is no excuse for lack of courtesy. The man
or woman who encroaches upon the rights of other passengers, who is
discourteous or rude, will undoubtedly be shunned and avoided by the
others.
It is, for instance, very bad form to use someone else's pillow,
deck-chair or book, without having first requested permission to do so.
It is also impolite to speak in loud tones, or to read aloud, where it
would disturb others who are trying to nap or to read. Noisy conduct of
any kind is an evidence of ill-breeding, and it is only the extremely
ill-bred people who will sit in little groups and discuss and comment
upon each passenger on board the ship.
Passengers are never permitted to interfere with the mechanisms of the
ship. Not only is it very incorrect to do so, but it may be criminal or
unsafe. To inspect certain parts of the ship barred to all but employees
is to risk one's own life and the lives of the other passengers. Remain
in your stateroom or on deck, but do not wander into places where
ship-ethics forbid you.
It is not usual for a woman to travel across the ocean alone. But very
often a young woman correspondent or journalist, or perhaps a woman
buyer for some large fashion establishment, finds that business takes
her abroad. She need feel no hesitancy or embarrassment in attempting
the trip, if she knows and understands all the little rules of good
conduct that govern railroad, steamship and hotel etiquette.
The young lady who is alone, should be careful that she does not make
haphazard acquaintances among the gentlemen on board the ship. It is
much wiser for her to find companions among the women passengers, and
later they will undoubtedly introduce her to their gentleman
acquaintances. She must never allow a man whose acquaintance she made
only on board the ship, to assume any of her expenses. Nor should she
sit up on the deck after eleven o'clock with one of her new
acquaintances. She must be extremely careful of her conduct, and she
must not give anyone the opportunity to talk about her and comment upon
the fact that she is traveling without a chaperon.
When there is a dance on board the ship, the woman who is traveling
alone may accept an invitation to dance from a gentleman she has not
formally met; but it is always wiser to find some excuse to avoid
dancing with a man who is a total stranger.
Very often, as the sea voyage draws near an end, a concert or
entertainment is held for the benefit of some special charity fund, or
merely for the amusement of the passengers. All those who are
accomplished in any way—who can sing, dance, recite or play a musical
instrument, are expected to volunteer their services for the occasion.
Those who are specially requested to do so, should consent amiably; it
is very rude, indeed, to refuse without some very good reason.
The passenger who absents himself from the concert which all other
passengers attend, is both impolite and ill-bred. Whether he cares to or
not, he should attend for the sake of courtesy. And everyone should
contribute to the fund if one is raised after the concert. Only a very
selfish and unkind person will refuse to contribute to a fund of this
kind.
In the excitement of reaching terra firma once again, a few people are
inclined to forget the courtesies due the other passengers.
A little while before the ship reaches the dock, cordial farewells
should be made to all those with whom one has been friendly.
Hand-shaking is in order, and a polite phrase, such as, "Good-by, Mrs.
Jones, I hope I shall have the pleasure of seeing you again," is most
appropriate. If it is desired, an exchange of cards may accompany this
leave-taking, especially if one really wishes to continue the
friendship.
Farewells on board a ship should be brief but cordial. Long, sentimental
farewells should never be indulged in for, at the most, they cause only
sorrow at the parting of a brief friendship that may perhaps never be
resumed. A warm handclasp, a sincere word or two of farewell—and it
should be over.
When arriving in a strange city, a traveler immediately asks to be
driven to whatever hotel he has previously decided upon. Here he
registers, using the same form that appears on his visiting card but
adding to it the name of the city from which he has come.
The woman who is traveling alone does well to wire or phone ahead to the
hotel and request that they reserve a room for her. While at the hotel,
her conduct must be unimpeachable. She must not entertain masculine
visitors in her private rooms, but only in the public reception room of
the hotel. She must not return to the hotel after midnight, and she
should not dine alone in the hotel dining-room after eight o'clock.
When a large party is to dine at a hotel, the table should be reserved
and the dishes chosen in advance. This will save a great deal of
confusion and waste of time. If the dinner is not arranged for in
advance, the host or hostess should do all the ordering, subjecting it,
of course, to the approval of the guests.
There seems to be something about a tea-room, whether it be at home or
in some strange city or town, that is conducive to quiet and
peacefulness. Loud talking and boisterous laughter is entirely out of
place, and those who are guilty of indulging in these two improprieties
condemn themselves as ill-bred.
At the tea-room the lady always retains her hat. Gloves are removed and
wraps may either be slipped off the shoulders or completely removed. At
the roof garden, hats are also worn, except in the evening when full
evening dress is worn. Here also, it is important that a quiet reserve
of manner characterize the lady and the gentleman. No amount of
frivolity and gayety in the atmosphere of one's environment can excuse
noisy, ill-mannered conduct.
Almost everyone enjoys traveling, but there are comparatively few people
who really appreciate it. To those who love to travel, who find it an
inspiration and a delight, the following bits of information may be of
interest.
If you want to enjoy a trip to a foreign country—let us say
France,—spend a week or two reading about the history and literature of
that country. Make notes while you are reading, give your imagination
full rein, and absorb just as much knowledge as you can of the habits
and customs of the French people. The cultivation of the imagination is
especially important; while you read about France, picture the tiny
villages and big cities to yourself, try to visualize the people and
their homes. And when you do arrive in France, you will find keen
enjoyment in seeing the people and places that lived first in your
imagination. We promise that you will enjoy your trip a great deal more
than if you neglected to devote a little time to the reading up of the
important facts about the country you intended to visit.
Another very good plan is to buy a French-and-English or a
Spanish-and-English dictionary before or as soon as reaching those
countries. Whether one knows the language or not, it is always safest to
have one of these little volumes handy. They are absolutely
indispensable to those who expect to travel in a country the language of
which is entirely unknown to them.
Wise tourists carry a map of the countries they intend visiting. It
saves them much time, and often prevents mistakes. These maps may be
obtained of most reliable stationers, and they take up very little
space. There are times, during the journey, when their help is well nigh
invaluable; and a map is nearly always a safer guide than a native.
A camera is a splendid thing to have along on one's trips abroad. No
matter how vivid an impression a certain scene makes upon one's mind, it
is bound to fade with the passing of a year or so. But a clear snap-shot
taken of that scene will keep it fresh indefinitely, for one needs only
to glance at the picture to have all associations with the scene
recalled. The latest cameras have a device for writing the date and name
of the place on the negative, to be printed with the picture. It is
most convenient for the tourist.
There are too many of us who rush through the world seeing nothing. We
race through one country after another, hustling and bustling, feeling
important and acting the part—and we feel that we have traveled. But
that is not travel. True travel is when a man or woman visits a strange
country and carries back with him, or her, to be remembered forever,
impressions of the people and customs of that country—valuable
impressions that make his or her life fuller, wider, more in sympathy
with the great world of fellow-men. Better stay at home and read good
books about foreign countries, than rush through them with unseeing
eyes, merely to be able to tell those at home that you have "been
abroad."
Everyone knows that tipping is a European custom and is entirely
un-American in principle. But while the custom is observed as widely in
this country as it is to-day, it is both inconsiderate and bad form to
ignore it. The wages of waiters end waitresses, porters and hotel
servants are outrageously small, for the reason that they receive tips
for each service they perform for individual guests and travelers. If
the tipping custom were abolished, the wages of these people would be
correspondingly increased; but as things are now, it is inconsiderate to
deprive them of the tips that both they and their employers expect that
they will receive.
In a little tea shop in Fifth Avenue in New York, the following is
printed on the back of each menu: "Tipping is an un-American custom.
Help us abolish it by adding 10c to the amount of your bill. At the end
of the week, the waiter will receive the entire amount added to his
wages." Patrons have greeted this plan enthusiastically. They feel that
it presages the ultimate abolition of a custom that has long been in
disrepute because it is so distinctly un-American. The waiters in this
progressive little tea-room serve each patron with the same degree of
courtesy and respect; there is no fawning servility, no unfair dividing
of service between two patrons.
Let us hope that before long all restaurants and hotels will follow the
lead of the little tea-shop that revolts against the undemocratic custom
of tipping. But for the present, while it remains a national custom, we
must know when to tip and how to tip, and the correct amounts.
In certain states, as in South Carolina, tipping is illegal. In this
case as in all others of a like nature, the rules of etiquette are set
aside in favor of the statutes of the law.
The man or woman who gives a waiter or a porter a tip that is entirely
incommensurate with that individual's services, is not impressing by his
generosity, but is earning the derision of the servants for his lack of
savoir faire. Extravagance in tipping is like extravagance in any
other form—it is decidedly vulgar.
A servant should be tipped according to the amount of service rendered.
The hall-boy who brings you a pitcher of ice-water should not receive
the same amount as the waiter who serves a full course dinner. Nor
should the maid who cares for your room be forgotten while the porter
who carries your trunks is handsomely rewarded for his few minutes'
service.
At a hotel, when a guest expects to stay for a long time, he may reward
the waiter in the dining-room for his services at the end of each week.
One dollar is considered the correct amount for a woman guest for a
week's service in the dining-room, and one dollar and a half for the
gentleman guest. Individual tips should amount to ten per cent. of the
bill.
In the dining-car a tip of twenty-five cents is sufficient for the
services rendered a man or woman. The woman who travels alone may leave
twenty-five cents for the waiter in the dining-car. The man who travels
alone should leave ten per cent. of the bill, or more according to the
services received.
The woman who travels with children and stops at a hotel dining-room or
a restaurant along the route, for dinner, should remember that children
always require extra service and trouble, and the waiter or waitress
should be tipped accordingly. A woman with one child should leave a
twenty-five cent tip; and when there are more children the tip should be
increased so as to be commensurate with the services received.
Women are never expected to tip as generously as men. At a hotel, the
woman should remember the hall-boy, the chamber-maid, the porter, and
the waiter in the dining-room. When her stay is a short one, twenty-five
cents apiece is sufficient for each one, except the hall-boy, who is
given a tip of ten cents whenever he performs an individual service. If
her stay is longer, she should tip according to the amount of service
received from each servant.
The man at the hotel is not expected to tip the chamber-maid unless she
performs some very special service for him. But he tips all others who
serve him in any way. The porter should receive ten cents for each
trunk that he carries to the room, and more if he performs additional
service. Ten cents is adequate compensation for the bell-boy whenever he
performs some service, and it should be forthcoming immediately upon the
completion of that service.
Both men and women guests are expected to tip a hotel employee whom they
send out on an errand in proportion to the services rendered. If the
trip to be taken is a long one, and entails a great deal of trouble. The
tip should be a generous one.
In large cities where taxicabs are fitted with meters that give the
exact amount of ground covered and the corresponding cost, the traveler
has nothing to fear. He may pay the amount with full confidence that he
is not being over-charged. His tip should be fifteen or twenty-five
cents, according to the length of the trip; or if the taxi-driver has
been specially requested to make the trip in the shortest possible time,
and if the distance covered is unusually long, a tip of fifty cents
should be forthcoming.
But in some small towns where taxicabs have no meters, unsuspecting
strangers are often forced to pay twice or even three times as much as
the trip is actually worth. For this reason, it is always wise to know
exactly the values of certain trips, and the careful man or woman will
know when it is worth one dollar and when it is worth three. To
remonstrate with the driver when you feel that he has excessively
overcharged is to discourage his future attempts to do the same thing to
others. A distance of twenty city blocks—or one mile—should never
amount to more than fifty cents; from this figure it should be easy to
compute what longer trips should cost.
There is no more reason why exorbitant tips should be paid the
taxi-driver than the waiter. He performs no greater service, except in
unusual cases, such as catching a train in time or getting you to a
physician quickly. The amount of the tip should be in proportion to the
amount of the bill, if the trip is just an ordinary one.
The man in the baggage room who gathers together and checks the trunks
will expect a tip of at least twenty-five cents. A woman may offer less
than this—but never less than ten cents. To the porter who carries the
hand luggage aboard the train and finds a comfortable seat for the
traveler, a tip of fifteen or twenty-five cents should be given, and the
parlor car porter who performs many little services during the trip
should be similarly tipped.
When the railroad journey is longer than twenty-four hours, the man and
woman will find that they have several people to tip in the sleeper. The
porter who makes the beds and blackens the boots will expect nothing
less than twenty-five cents, and for extra service he is entitled to
extra compensation. Others who perform services are tipped in amounts
that are commensurate with the services rendered, and immediately upon
the performance of those services.
It was on a German steamship that the custom of raising a contribution
for the band of musicians originated. Some steamships to-day still
observe this custom, but on better ships, where the musicians are of a
high order, it has been abolished. If the collection is made, at the end
of the journey, each passenger should feel it incumbent upon him to
contribute at least twenty-five cents. Fifty cents is not too much, and
some people who have particularly enjoyed the music, offer one dollar or
even more. It is very bad form, indeed, to refuse to contribute to this
fund.
The servants to be remembered on the steamship are the bedroom steward,
the table, deck and bathroom stewards, the stewardess, and the boy who
blackens the boots. Masculine passengers do not tip the stewardess
unless she has rendered them special service. Tips to the servants
mentioned above should be governed by the amount of service rendered.
For instance, if a woman passenger has been ill all the way across, she
is expected to give a generous tip to the stewardess who has nursed her.
Five dollars would not be considered extravagant in this case. The man
who has been ill should be just as generous with the bedroom steward and
all others who have attended him.
When leaving the ship, no one who has been of any service whatever
should be forgotten. The porter who helps you with your hand luggage and
sees you safely down the gang plank should be rewarded with no less than
twenty-five cents.
Americans in Germany, England or France should learn at once the values
of German, English and French money. Otherwise they may make mistakes
that will cost them quite a bit. For instance, an American woman in
England recently gave a crown to a hotel maid, thinking that it was
equivalent to our quarter. The maid realized that the woman did not know
the value of it, and she explained it to her. But the traveler must
remember that not all servants are so scrupulous.
Tips in foreign countries should be given on the same basis as the ones
given to those who serve us here in America. Extravagance is bad form,
and not to give at all is niggardly. The amount of the tip should always
be commensurate with the service performed. Americans have every right
to expect respectful and courteous treatment wherever they chance to be,
and they must not feel that they are expected to pay exorbitant fees to
obtain it.
The American who goes abroad and expects to learn in a few days the
customs, manners and even the language of the countries he visits, is
like the proverbial Irishman who comes to America and expects to find
the streets paved with gold. Both are doomed to disappointment.
One of the most undesirable features of travel abroad is to be forced to
depend upon the half-incorrect interpretations of guides for one's
comfort and pleasure. How much better it is to be able to talk to the
natives of the country themselves, and to understand them and their
ways! A little preliminary preparation before the trip, or while one is
on the way, serves as an excellent foundation upon which to build one's
knowledge of the language and customs of a foreign country.
Good manners are, of course, universal; and the man who is well-bred in
America is sure to be correctly-mannered when he is in France or
England. And yet there are slight differences between the etiquette of
America and the etiquette of foreign countries. They do not affect one's
courtesy or kindliness of manner, but they do affect those daily little
conventionalities, such as greetings, farewells, table etiquette,
addressing clergy and royalty, etc. To be ignorant of these rules is to
be susceptible to embarrassment and uncertainty, and to incur the
displeasure and unfriendliness of foreigners of good social standing.
The following paragraphs will, we hope, help the man or woman who is
traveling abroad, for they contain all the important details of foreign
etiquette. But in addition, we have suggested that those who intend to
visit France or Germany or any other foreign country, spend a little
time reading about that country and learning a bit about the language.
There are many good books available in public libraries and elsewhere,
that teach one a great deal about the people, interesting places, and
language of foreign countries.
Perhaps it is because America and England have so much in common, that
their etiquette is so very similar. We find that balls and receptions
and entertainments, dinners, calls, funerals and weddings, in fact,
almost all social functions are celebrated in practically the same
manner as is considered best form here in America. The changes are so
slight that they are not important enough to mention.
But there is one radical difference between English and American
conventionalities that usually cause difficulty to the tourist. We refer
to the royal society of England which requires a very special kind of
recognition. The traveling American who visits an English court will
expose himself to a great deal of embarrassment if he does not know the
correct court etiquette—if he does not know the proper titles and their
recognition, how to address the King or Queen, how to conduct himself
while in the presence of royalty.
Although every American tourist delights in being presented at court, or
to a royal personage, it is usually regarded as a nervous and
embarrassing business—for the reason that one does not quite know just
what is correct to say and do. When addressing the King, there are two
correct forms and no others that may be used. One may say either, "Your
Majesty" or "Sir." There are also two forms that may be used when
addressing the Queen. They are, "Your Majesty" or "Madame." When
answering a question put by either of these rulers, one may not use the
brief "No" or "Yes." "No, madame," or "Yes, sir," are the correct forms.
When addressing the King, the form "Your Majesty" is used.
All children of the King and Queen are addressed as "Your Royal
Highness." This same title is used when addressing the brother or sister
of the reigning monarchs, or the brother or sister of the late King. In
speaking to royalty, one does not use the simple expression "you," but
expresses oneself in this manner, "Has your Royal Highness been to
America recently?"
One rule that all Americans should observe when in the presence of
foreign royalty is to wait until they are addressed by the persons of
rank. They themselves should not volunteer remarks but should enter into
the conversation only when they are directly addressed. To use a title
of rank, such as "Your Majesty" or "Your Royal Highness" incessantly, is
to make it seem superficial. It should be used only when respect and
convention demand it.
When presented to royalty, a man is expected to bow, a woman to
courtesy. The hand is never offered in greeting, unless the person of
rank makes the first motion. In the presence of the Queen everyone
should show some mark of respect—men stand with heads uncovered and
women bow slightly. Americans should follow these customs if they do not
wish to earn the enmity of their English brothers and make their stay in
the country unpleasant. But most of all, they should do it because it is
the polite and proper thing to do. Americans should also remain
standing at the theater or opera when the national anthem, "God Save the
Queen," is sung, or while the rest of the audience stands in respect for
a member of the royal family who has not yet been seated.
An American in England is very likely to meet some persons of high
hereditary title, if they are not presented at the court itself. When
speaking of a Duke, one says, "The Duke of Lancastershire." When
addressing him, one says, "Your Grace" or "My Lord Duke." Familiarly, by
those who know him well and address him as an equal, the Duke is
addressed merely as "Duke." The same rule applies to the Duchess.
Formally she is addressed as "Your Grace"; familiarly she is addressed
as "Duchess."
The eldest son is entitled to the highest of the lesser titles of his
father. Thus, the eldest son of a Duke who was a Marquis immediately
before receiving his ducal degree, is known as the Marquis, and is
addressed as "Lord Barrie" (if Barrie happened to be the surname of the
family). Earls, Viscounts and Barons are addressed in the same manner,
when their titles are given them as courtesies, as the eldest sons of
Dukes.
The wife of anyone of the titled men mentioned above would be addressed
as "Lady Barrie." A curt "No" or "Yes" is extremely rude on the part of
an American when answering a question put by the wife of a person of
nobility. One should say, "No, Lady Barrie."
The younger sons of a Duke are addressed as "Lord James" or "Lord Sidney
Barrie." Daughters are addressed as "Lady Helen" or "Lady Louise
Barrie."
A Marquis (not the eldest son of a Duke, but a recognized Marquis by
English law) is entitled to the formal title of "My Lord" or "Your
Lordship" when addressed by traveling Americans—or by their own
country-people. By his friends or equals he is addressed as "Lord
Denbigh" or "Marquis." On formal occasions, or by those of lesser rank,
a Marchioness is addressed as "My Lady" or "Your Ladyship." But her
friends and equals call her "Lady Penhope" or "Marchioness."
Just as the eldest son of a Duke bears a "courtesy title," so does the
eldest son of a Marquis. This eldest son is called "Lord Denbigh." The
daughters of the Marquis are "Lady Helen" or "Lady Janet," and they are
addressed in this manner by their friends and equals. Formally, an Earl
is addressed as "My Lord" or "Your Lordship." The wife of an Earl is
formally addressed as is the Marchioness. But by her intimate friends
and her social equals she is addressed as "Countess" or "Lady Hendrick."
The eldest son of an Earl bears his father's second title. There are no
titles for the younger sons of an Earl. His daughters are addressed in
the same manner as are the daughters of a Marquis. A Viscount is
addressed formally as "My Lord" and his friends and equals address him
familiarly as "Lord Roberts." In addressing the wife of a Viscount, one
uses the same forms outlined for the wife of an Earl. The sons and
daughters of a Viscount, when addressed or spoken about, are referred to
as Mr. or Miss Roberts, but when formally introduced, this form is used,
"The Honorable Henry Roberts."
The American traveler in England will certainly have a great many titles
to remember, especially if he expects to mingle to any extent with the
royal society. There are still others besides those outlined above. The
following are "lesser" titles, but are used perhaps even more frequently
than those given in the preceding paragraphs.
There are the Baron and Baroness, for instance, who are addressed
respectively as "My Lord" and "Your Ladyship." Their children have the
same titular rank and are addressed in the same manner. The Baronet is
addressed formally and familiarly as "Sir Thomas" without the addition
of his surname. His title is really only an hereditary privilege. But
his wife enjoys the title of "Lady Merick" or "Lady Carol," instead of
just "Lady Sylvia." The children of a Baronet have no title.
A Knight is addressed as "Lord Henry" or "Lord James," both formally and
familiarly. His wife is addressed in the same form as that used for the
wife of a Baronet. The children of a Knight are called merely Mr. or
Miss.
Another difficulty that often confronts the stranger in England, is that
of correctly addressing the clergy. England is a land of titles, and to
be at ease one must know how to place each title properly and pay proper
respect where it is due.
In England the Archbishops of Canterbury and York and all the bishops
(with the exception of two) are called "Lords Spiritual." They enjoy the
privilege of sitting in the House of Lords. Thus, when addressing them
formally, the form "Your Grace" should be used. "Archbishop" may be used
only by those who are addressing that dignitary familiarly as a friend
or an equal. Bishops should be formally addressed as "Your Lordship" or
"My Lord," but merely as "Bishop" by their friends. Their wives, and the
wives of archbishops, have no title, nor do the children of either
archbishop or bishop have any title other than Mr. or Miss.
Following the bishop in rank, comes the Dean, addressed simply as "Dean
Harris." His wife is known only as "Mrs. Harris." The same forms apply
to the Archdeacon and his wife. Other clergymen—canons, vicars, rectors
and curates—have no titles and are addressed simply as "Mr. Brown" or
"Mr. Smith" as the case may be.
While traveling about in merry England, one may find it necessary to
seek legal advice or the protection of a court. The etiquette is
slightly different from that observed in America.
The members of the judiciary, for instance, are not spoken of as "Judge
Brown" and "Judge Harris," but as "Mr. Justice Brown" and "Mr. Justice
Harris." While presiding in his court, the member of the judiciary is
addressed as "My Lord," "Your honor," "Your worship," according to the
position occupied. In private life, however, he is plain "Mr. Smith."
Whether addressed formally or familiarly, the members of the Cabinet,
and the prime minister are simply Mr. Blank, unless they have titles
conferred upon them by the King or inherited. In this case they use
their titles constantly and are addressed accordingly.
The Lord Mayor of London is entitled to the honorary title of "His
Lordship." He may also be addressed as "My Lord Mayor" at social
gatherings.
The social activities of the English Court, and the etiquette governing
these activities, should be known and thoroughly understood by every
American who ever intends to visit that country. The war interfered
slightly with the functions of the court, but with the return to normal
these have been resumed with all their pre-war ceremony.
Usually four Courts are held every season, two in the early part of
spring, and two at equal intervals later on. This may be altered,
however, to suit conditions; as, for instance, in Nineteen-Fourteen
there were only three Courts, and in Nineteen-Fifteen there were none at
all.
American women who wish to be presented at Court may either be presented
by the wife of the American Ambassador or by some English woman of title
and position who has herself been received by the Queen. The American
Ambassador has the privilege of sending to the authorities in whose
hands the matter rests, the names of several American women suitable
for presentation at Court. Those who wish this privilege, should
register their names at the offices of the Embassy in London,
sufficiently ahead of time for due consideration.
In addition to the registering of her name at the Embassy, the woman who
wishes to be presented at Court should bring to the Ambassador a letter
of recommendation from some member of the American government who is
well known to the Ambassador. Then, if the application is accepted, her
name and credentials will be sent to Buckingham Palace, from whence
invitations will be issued if the Ambassador's list is approved.
Having gained the coveted invitation to appear at the Court of Her
Majesty, the Queen, the American woman must be careful that she knows
exactly what to wear.
Before attempting to appear at Court, the American woman should consult
a reliable modiste. She will be able to tell her exactly the correct
thing to wear at her presentation.
Court gowns invariably have trains, and the head dress is always
elaborate. The dress itself must be fashioned according to the style of
the moment, and in this the woman must be guided by her dressmaker. For
a young, unmarried woman a dress of thin, light-colored material is
suggested, unadorned by jewels of any kind. The matron may wear diamonds
or pearls, but must not attempt to emulate the gaudiness of a Queen
Elizabeth.
The well-bred woman will not feel awkward in the vast room where all the
great personages are assembled. She will learn beforehand, just how to
enter the room, how to kiss the Queen's hand and how to conduct herself
with poise and grace during the period of presentation.
The American gentleman who wishes to be presented to His Majesty, may
arrange through his Ambassador to attend one of the levées which the
King holds at St. James' Palace. These levées are not quite as
ceremonious as the Courts which the Queen holds, but they require a
certain definite etiquette which must not be overlooked.
For instance, the American who is not in uniform, must wear the correct
dress prescribed for the occasion. It is known as levée dress, and a
competent London tailor will be able to inform the American gentleman of
just what it consists. He must not attempt to appear at the levée in any
other than these conventional clothes. Slight variations take place in
these levée costumes, from time to time, and the American in England
should make sure by consulting with a fashionable tailor.
It is wise also, before attending a levée, to have a little chat with a
friend or acquaintance who has already attended one, and learn from him
the correct way to conduct oneself throughout the presentation.
France is a land of polished manners. Here one is either cultured or
uncultured. Mistakes in etiquette, divergence from the path of good
form, are not tolerated in good society. The American in France must
know exactly what is correct to do and say in that country, if he
wishes to enjoy his visit.
The brief expressions "Yes" or "No" are never used in France when one
wishes to be polite. It must be followed by the correct title, such as
"Yes, Monsieur" or "No, Madame." In the morning, upon greeting an
acquaintance, no matter how slightly you know him, it is correct to say,
"Bonjour, Monsieur." When expressing thanks for a courtesy or for
requested information, one says, "Merci, Madame." And the customary
farewell is "Au revoir, Mademoiselle."
Politeness is universal in France. One greets shop clerks as cordially
as one greets one's best friend. Upon entering the French shop one
should say "Bonjour, Monsieur" to the floorwalker, and "Bonjour, Madame"
to the saleslady. In the restaurant it is proper to say "Merci,
Monsieur," to the head waiter who shows you to your place. The waiters
are addressed as garçon, but the waitresses are called Madame or
Mademoiselle.
If one happens to brush against someone accidentally, or to get into
someone's way, it is very important that polite apologies be offered. To
hurry on without so much as saying, "Pardon, Monsieur," is extremely
rude, and Frenchmen are quick to notice it. They are very courteous and
they expect visitors to be the same.
"Monsieur le Comte" is the correct mode of address to employ towards a
Count in France. A Baron is addressed as "Monsieur le Baron." His wife,
however, is called simply "Madame——."
Officers in the Army are addressed in the following manner: "Mon
Capitaine," "Mon Général," etc. It is a decided breach of good conduct
to address an officer in the French army as "Monsieur," especially when
he is in uniform. When speaking about a certain officer, one may say,
"Le Général Denbigh."
The concierge and his wife are known merely as Monsieur and Madame. The
parish priest, however, is spoken of and to as, "Monsieur le curé." A
nun is addressed always as "Ma Sœur."
Be careful not to forget the correct forms of address in France, for
Frenchmen are quick to take offense and much ill-will may unwittingly be
incurred by the American man or woman who does not pay proper respect
where it is due, who does not use the correct titles at the correct
time. And the American traveler in France should remember that his
manners and conduct in that country reflect not only upon his own
manners and breeding, but upon the manners and customs of the country he
represents.
In France the first recognition of acquaintanceship must come from the
gentleman. For instance, if a young American man makes the acquaintance
of a young French woman, she will expect him to raise his hat when they
meet again, before she nods to him. In America it is the reverse—the
young lady has the privilege of acknowledging or ignoring an
acquaintanceship.
Not only must the hat be raised to women, in France, but to men also. A
young American and a young Frenchman who are known to each other raise
their hats simultaneously when they encounter each other on the street.
But when the Frenchman is the elder of the two, or the more
distinguished, the American is expected to wait until he makes the first
motion of recognition.
The American who stops at a small hotel in France for a period of two
days or more, should feel it his duty to nod courteously to every woman
guest of the hotel he chances to meet, whether or not she is a total
stranger. This is considered a conventional courtesy which all well-bred
people in France observe. However, it does not serve the purpose of an
introduction, and the American must not make the mistake of thinking
that this privilege entitles him to address the women guests without the
introduction of a mutual friend or acquaintance.
Frenchmen always stand with heads uncovered when a funeral passes, and
women bow for a moment. The well-bred American man and woman in France
will also observe this custom. Nor will they neglect to remain standing
while the Marsellaise is being sung.
An invitation to dine should be accepted or declined promptly when one
is visiting in France. And one may not decline unless one has a very
good excuse, such as having a previous engagement, or being called away
on the day set for the dinner.
It is considered polite to arrive twenty minutes or a half-hour before
dinner is served. If it is a formal and elaborate dinner, evening dress
should be worn; but afternoon or semi-evening dress is appropriate for
the informal dinner. It is not at all incorrect, if one is in doubt, to
ask the host or hostess whether one should wear full dress or not. It is
certainly wiser than to make oneself conspicuous by wearing different
dress from all the other guests.
In France, the order in which the guests proceed to dinner is as
follows: the host leads the way with the woman guest of honor, or the
most distinguished woman guest, on his arm. Directly behind him follows
the hostess on the arm of the masculine guest to be honored; and they
are followed by the other guests, who proceed arm in arm.
According to the latest dinner etiquette in France, coffee is served for
both the men and women at the dinner table. But when the dinner is very
large and fashionable, it is still customary for the women to retire to
the drawing-room, where the hostess presides over the coffee-urn. When
men and women leave the dining-room together, they resume the same order
as they observed when they entered it.
The American who is a guest at a formal dinner in France should pay a
call upon the hostess within a week's time. This call is known as the
"visite de digestion."
Weddings are occasions of solemn dignity in every country, but in France
they are perhaps more dignified than anywhere else. Here no rice and old
shoes are cast after the bride and bridegroom—it would be considered a
most shocking thing to do. Good wishes, politely expressed, are the only
good-by offerings of friends and relatives.
There are usually two ceremonies to be celebrated at the French
wedding—first the civil, and later the religious, marriage. At the
civil wedding, which is held two or three days before the religious
ceremony, only a few intimate friends and relatives of the two families
are present. But the ceremony at church is a very important affair and
all friends and acquaintances of both families are invited to attend.
Those who cannot attend should send cards of regret to the bride's
parents.
Very elaborate and gay indeed are the balls of France. There is, for
instance, the bals blancs, at which all ladies are gowned in pure
white and only maidens and bachelors are expected to be present. Men
guests at the bal blanc wear the conventional evening dress.
At a ball in France, a gentleman may request to dance with a lady
without having first been introduced to her. Even a total stranger may
approach a lady on the ballroom floor and ask for a dance. But it is
considered very bad form for a young man and woman to "sit out" a dance
together or retire to the veranda or lawn.
If one expects to remain in France any length of time at all, it is
important that one know and understand the etiquette of calls and cards
in that country.
Calls are paid just as frequently in France as they are in America.
Between two and six o'clock in the afternoon is the correct time for
calling in the former country. One observes very much the same
conventions of calling that one does here in America, except that the
gentleman wears both his gloves when entering a drawing-room, and that
the hostess does not rise to welcome a masculine caller. (However, the
French hostess always does rise to greet an elderly gentleman, a
distinguished person, or a member of the clergy.)
French introductions are never haphazard, never careless. The hostess
introduces freely all the guests that assemble in her home, but she is
not, as the American hostess sometimes is, careless and hurried. In
acknowledging an introduction, a brief, polite greeting should be
expressed; French people rarely shake hands.
The significance of the bent visiting card still remains in France,
though here in America it has been almost entirely eliminated. When a
hostess finds the card of a friend or acquaintance, with one of its
corners turned down, she knows that that friend called for the purpose
of a visit but found no one at home. In fact, that is almost the only
time when cards are left in France—when the person called upon is not
at home. However, a dinner call is often paid by the simple process of
card-leaving.
The French people are very particular in their correspondence. Certain
set rules of salutation and closing are observed, and the margins
themselves have a particular significance. For instance, when writing a
letter to a French person, a wide margin should be left on the left side
of the sheet; and the greater the social prestige and distinction of the
person addressed, the wider this margin must be.
A man writing to another man who is an intimate friend begins his letter
in this manner: "Mon cher Frederick," or "Mon cher ami." The closing to
this letter would be, "Bien à vous," or "Bien cordialement à vous." When
the two men are not intimate friends, a letter should begin, "Cher
Monsieur," or "Mon cher Monsieur Blank," and should end with "Croyez à
mes sentiments dévoués." Strangers address each other merely as
"Monsieur," and close with "Recevez je vous prie l'assurance de ma
consideration distinguée."
When writing to a woman friend, a man begins his letter with "Chère
Madame et ami," or "Chère Mademoiselle." But when he is a stranger or
just a slight acquaintance, he begins his letter with "Madame" and
concludes it with "Veuillez, Madame, reçevoir l'expression de tout mon
respect." The French have very pretty expressions of greeting and
conclusion, and they expect every well-bred person to use them.
A woman writing to a gentleman addresses him in the following manner, if
he is an intimate friend: "Monsieur," or "Cher Monsieur Brown," and she
closes the letter with the courtesy phrase, "Agrèez, cher monsieur,
l'expression de mes sentiments d'amitie." Greetings and closings are
more formal when the woman addresses a masculine stranger or slight
acquaintance by letter. She begins simply with "Monsieur," and closes
with, "Veuillez, monsieur, reçevoir l'expression de mes sentiments
distingués."
Special forms of address and conclusion are used when writing officers
in the French army. A general or commander are addressed in the
following manner: "Monsieur le général," or "Monsieur le commandant."
The letter should be couched in terms of most exact respect.
Tradespeople in France are addressed by letter in the following manner:
"Monsieur C.," or "Madame C.," and the conclusion should be, "Agrèez,
Monsieur C., mes civilités." A servant should be addressed with "Je prie
M. Smith (or Mad. Smith) de vouloir bien."
In France abbreviations on the envelope are considered very bad form.
M. may never be used for Monsieur, nor may Mlle, be used for
Mademoiselle. The full title and name must appear on the envelope.
The American who finds himself in Germany for the first time is likely
to be puzzled and embarrassed by the numerous different manners and
customs in each little town and duchy. What is correct in one place, may
be incorrect elsewhere. Thus it is impossible to give certain rules of
etiquette to be followed by the American in the German Empire. He must
be guided by good judgment and by the advice of his German friends.
However, one may be certain of one thing—throughout the length and
breadth of the German empire the greatest ceremony is observed in
correspondence of all kinds. As great courtesy and respect is paid the
stranger as the friend. When writing to a man or woman of social
distinction, this impressive inscription appears on the envelope and
begins the letter: "To the high and well-born Mrs. Robert Smith." It
sounds, perhaps, a trifle crude in the English, but in the native German
it is a pretty and courteous phrase and a true expression of respect.
When writing to a person of lesser social importance, as a business
letter, for instance, one should begin with "Honored Sir." The
expression, "Lieber Freund," should be used only when writing informally
to a dear friend. In fact, the same method of address as is used in
writing English letters may be used when writing to friends and
acquaintances in Germany.
The hours for paying calls and leaving cards differ in the various
localities. Ordinarily, the correct time would be between half-past
three and half-past four o'clock in the afternoon, although in some
localities calls are not considered correct before five o'clock. In
Germany, card-leaving should be followed in the same manner as
card-leaving in the United States.
When meeting a feminine acquaintance in Germany, the American gentleman
does not wait for recognition to come from her, but immediately bows and
raises his hat. As in France, he may request a lady to dance with him,
at a ball, without having first requested an introduction. And also, as
in France, it is considered polite to bow and raise one's hat to the
ladies who are at the same hotel, although here again, the privilege
does not serve as an introduction.
At all times, men and women in Germany should be given full recognition
of their titles and positions. A German woman always enjoys the title
bestowed upon her husband. The wife of a general expects to be addressed
as "Mrs. General Blank," and the wife of a doctor should be called "Mrs.
Doctor Blank." Men of official or professional rank and titles are
addressed as, "Mr. Professor, Mr. General, Mr. Doctor, etc." "Herr
Doktor Smith" is the correct German form—and to omit the Herr is a
breach of good conduct.
Unfortunately, there are some Americans who go abroad each year merely
because it is the "fashion" to do so, and because they wish to impress
their friends and acquaintances at home with their social distinction
and importance. These people are wont to let their money talk for
them—instead of their manners. But there are many things that wealth
will not excuse; and among them is lack of courtesy and breeding.
The American abroad, whether he is traveling for pastime, pleasure or
business, should remember primarily that he is a representative of the
United States, and that as such he owes his country the duty of making
his manners a polished reflection of the manners of all Americans. He
must be courteous, polite, kind, gentlemanly. He must conform with the
customs of the country he chances to be in, and he must avoid all
suggestion of superiority on his part, or disdain for the customs of the
other country.
There is a certain fellow-feeling, a certain sympathy and kindliness
that can take the place of conventionalities when one is not sure of the
customs of certain countries. Perhaps you do not know the French
language, and you wish to have a window raised while you are traveling
on a French railroad. Is it forgivable to bend across a man or woman and
raise the window without a word of excuse, or a cordial smile of
understanding? And yet how often do we see this thing done! Many a
seemingly well-bred man or woman will raise the window next to another
man or woman without so much as asking permission to do so! The proper
thing to do when one does not know the language, is to smile in a
cordial manner to the person or persons in the vicinity of the window,
indicate that you would like to have it raised, and wait until your
request is understood and granted before you venture to raise it. Then a
polite "Merci," which means "Thank you," and which everyone should know
and remember, should be given.
It is not always easy to do and say what is absolutely correct when one
is in a strange country among people who speak a strange language. But
he who is kind and courteous at all times, who has a ready smile and a
polished manner, will avoid much of the embarrassment that awaits the
tourist who is indifferent and careless. The proverb, "All doors open to
courtesy," is as true in France and England as it is in America.
Ad infinitum, L., to infinity.
À la carte, Fr., according to the bill of fare at table.
À la mode, Fr., according to the mode or fashion.
À la Russe, Fr., according to the Russian fashion (individual portions).
A propos, L., to the point.
Au fait, Fr., well-versed in social custom.
Au revoir, Fr., good-by till we meet again.
Ben educato, It., well educated.
Billet d'amour, Fr., love letter.
Blasé, Fr., world-weary.
Bona fide, L., in good faith.
Bonbonnière, Fr., bonbon dish.
Bon jour, Fr., good morning; good day.
Bon ton, Fr., fashionable society.
Bon voyage, Fr., good journey to you.
Bouillion, Fr., a clear broth.
Boutonnière, Fr., a flower for the buttonhole.
Buffet, Fr., a sideboard for china, silver or glass.
Carte blanche, Fr., unconditional permission.
Chancel, L., space in church reserved for the officiating clergy.
Chère amie, Fr., dear friend (fem.).
Coiffure, Fr., dressing of the hair.
Collation, Fr., a light repast.
Compotiers, Fr., dish for served stewed fruits or bonbons.
Corsage bouquet, Fr., flowers fastened on bodice.
Cortège, Fr., a formal procession.
Coterie, Fr., a social set; a clique.
Cotillon, Fr., a dance for four couples.
Coup d'état, Fr., a sudden decisive blow in politics.
Débutante, Fr., a young lady just introduced to society.
Décolleté, Fr., fashionably low-cut for evening wear.
De luxe, Fr., of luxury; made with unusual elegance.
Dénouement, Fr., the issue.
Dramatis personæ, L., characters in the play.
De trop, Fr., too much, too many.
Demoiselle, Fr., young lady.
Éclat, Fr., renown, glory.
Élite, Fr., better society.
En buffet, Fr., served from the buffet; no tables.
En déshabille, Fr., in undress; négligée.
En masse, Fr., in a mass.
En route, Fr., on the way.
En suite, Fr., in company.
En toilette, Fr., in full dress.
Entrée, Fr., a side-dish, served as one course of a meal.
Entre nous, Fr., between ourselves.
Ensemble, Fr., all together.
E pluribus unum, L., one out of many.
Et cetera, L., and everything of the sort.
Et tu, Brute, L., and thou also, Brutus.
Eureka, Gr., I have found it.
Fête, Fr., a festive social occasion.
Fête champêtre, Fr., an open-air festival or entertainment.
Filets mignon, Fr., small pieces of beef tenderloin, served with sauce.
Finesse, Fr., social art in its highest conception.
Fondant, Fr., soft icing or glacé.
Finis, Fr., the end.
Garçon, Fr., boy.
Grace à Dieu, Fr., grace of God.
Hors d'œuvre, Fr., out of course; special course.
In memorium, L., to the memory of.
Le beau monde, Fr., the fashionable world.
Lettre de cachet, Fr., a sealed letter.
Ma chère, Fr., my dear (fem.).
Mal de mer, Fr., sea-sickness.
Mardi gras, Fr., Shrove Tuesday.
Mayonnaise, Fr., a salad sauce of egg, oil, vinegar and spices beaten
together.
Menu, Fr., bill of table fare.
Mon ami, Fr., my friend (mon amie, fem.).
Musicale, Fr., private concert.
Négligée, Fr., morning dress; easy, loose dress.
Noblesse oblige, Fr., rank imposes obligations; much is expected from
one in good position.
Nom de plume, Fr., an assumed name of a writer.
Notre Dame, Fr., Our Lady.
O Tempora! O Mores! L., Oh the times! Oh the manners!
Passé, Fr., out of date.
Penchant, Fr., a strong or particular liking.
Pièce de résistance, Fr., something substantial by way of entertainment;
most substantial course of a dinner; literally, a piece of resistance (a
main event or incident).
Pour prendre congé, Fr., to depart, take leave. (P.p.c. on calling
cards meaning the departure of a caller for a long voyage, hence a
parting call.)
Prima donna, Ital., the chief woman vocalist of a concert.
Pro patria, L., for our country.
Protégée, Fr., under the protection of another.
Rendezvous, Fr., an appointed place for a meeting.
R.s.v.p., Fr., (Répondez s'il vous plaît), please reply.
Requiescat in pace, L., may he (she) rest in peace.
Résumé, Fr., a summary or abstract.
Salon, Fr., a drawing-room; the room where guests are received.
Sang froid, Fr., coolness, indifference.
Sans souci, Fr., without care.
Savoir faire, Fr., knowledge of social customs; tact.
Table à manger, Fr., dining-table.
Table d'hôte, Fr., a public dinner at hotel or restaurant.
Trousseau, Fr., the bridal outfit.
Tout de suite, Fr., immediately.
Tout ensemble, Fr., all together.
Veni, Vidi, Vici, L., I came, I saw, I conquered.
Verbatim, L., word for word.
Vis-à-vis, Fr., face-to-face.
Voilà, Fr., behold; there you are!
The following changes have been made in the printed text:
(note of etext transcriber)
because of someone's else magnificent parties=>because of someone else's
magnificent parties
avalance=>avalanche
ones own sense=>one's own sense
Many gentlemen, while speaking to ladies in the street, stand with their
uncovered=>Many gentlemen, while speaking to ladies in the street, stand
with their heads uncovered
adddressed=>addressed
Repondez s'il vous plâit=>Répondez s'il vous plaît
the the elderly woman=>the elderly woman
be be paid the taxi-driver=>be paid the taxi-driver
be ill at east=>be ill at ease