Soap and Water is the Primary Aid, but Cosmetics, Wisely Used, Will Accomplish Wonders. Many Are the Mysteries of the Modern Beauty Parlor. Some Women Seek Beauty Aids Brazenly, Others a Little Sheepishly

DOROTHY G. BELL June 15 1923


Soap and Water is the Primary Aid, but Cosmetics, Wisely Used, Will Accomplish Wonders. Many Are the Mysteries of the Modern Beauty Parlor. Some Women Seek Beauty Aids Brazenly, Others a Little Sheepishly

DOROTHY G. BELL June 15 1923



Soap and Water is the Primary Aid, but Cosmetics, Wisely Used, Will Accomplish Wonders. Many Are the Mysteries of the Modern Beauty Parlor. Some Women Seek Beauty Aids Brazenly, Others a Little Sheepishly


"YOU can’t make me beautiful, I know, but please make me as beautiful as you can.”

A wan, tired-eyed girl stepped languidly into a carefully-curtained, cleverlymirrored cubicle, wherein the mysteries of youth, beauty and feminine charm were ruthlessly revealed. She was young, perhaps not more than twenty, but illness, bad luck and hard work had left their mark upon her, and the drawn, haggard lines about her mouth and face belied her age.

A maze of wires, through which flowed the vitality-giving streams of electricity, hung from the ceiling of the tiny room and ended in a profusion of “permanent wavers.” Both walls were lined with bottles, tubes, jars and boxes of materials essential to the manufacture of cherry-red lips, delicate complexions, alabaster brows bright eyes and sweeping lashes.

The girl laughed—a little, hard, mechanical laugh—as she settled herself into a white swivel chair before a big mirror. Madam, who was waiting beside

her to envelop her in a stiff white apron, did not laugh. This was her business—to her a very serious one. Somehow she sensed from this little stranger’s faded face some reason why she should do her best.

Two hours later the tired girl, now thoroughly rested, stepped briskly out of the white-walled cubicle. In her cheeks there was the pink and white glow of youth, of health. The severe, dragging lines were gone from a well-shaped, rosy mouth; her face was animated and gay. Straight, fair hair, which had clung so

damply to her brow, now lay in soft, becoming waves just above two delicately arching eyebrows, beneath which eyes, which a little while before were so tired and grey, flashed brightly with full dancing lights. Her lashes, too, were noticeable—long and curving. Madam was indeed an artist.

“Oh!” breathed the girl as she took a last glance in the mirror, “O-o-h! You think he will like me, Madam?”

Madam cast an admiring glance at her handiwork.

‘‘He will love you, my dear.”

A light, such as even Madam could not create, shot into the eyes of the girl. “Oh, I hope so,” she sighed as she turned to go.

The Pseudo Athlete

MADAM heaved a sigh of relief. But scarcely had she turned from the door when another frenzied appeal fell on her ears.

“For goodness’ sake, make me look as if I had just come in from a ten-mile walk.”

The proprietress glanced up at a thin, anaemic, frail-looking girl. For a moment she pictured in her mind just, what the result of a ten-mile walk would be for this fragile little person.

“Gracious, child! Do you want to look a wreck?”

The girl laughed. “Of course not. Now, seriously, I must look that way. Rosy cheeks, sparkling eyes, pink ears, jolly red lips and all that. You know. My fiance—we’re only just engaged—is one of these absurd outdoor fellows. He thinks

I’d be much better if I’d go out more and walk and everything. I’m to meet him in an hour and I’m supposed to have walked down, but it’s miles and, oh, I couldn’t. I simply couldn’t!”

The girl dropped limply into the chair. Madam agreed, in her own mind, with the fiance, but that was not her business, and three-quarters of an hour later the little faker left with a glow as of the outdoors on her thin face.

And then—poor Madam! Even the makers of beauty come in for their share of abuse.

“I want your whole beastly treatment,” said a middle-aged and much-too-wrinkled person. “My husband thinks I am looking old and he has just been nagging the life out of me to come to you. I know you can’t do any more than make me look a perfect fright, but here I am. Now do your worst.”

For two solid hours she worked on this critical lady, who was openly pleased at the result. “Well, I never would have be-

Practical Hints to Those Who Would Be Beautiful

Watch the diet and don’t eat loo many pickles and sweet things.

Relax completely as often as possible to give over-taxed nerves a chance to rest.

Wash the face often with hot water and soap.

Use cleansing, stimulating and astringent creams; do not leave them on all night.

Give your skin a chance to breathe.

Don't apply ice or cold water to the face. Cold is an enemy of skin health.

Gel lots of fresh air.

Do not smoke. Smoking will sooner or later cause the cheeks to become drawn.

Take plenty of exercise.

Use the best powders and rouges, so that the pores of the skin will not become clogged.

Don't keep laie hours.

Smile. After all, a face, no mailer how beautiful, is hut a frame for personality and a> glum picture mars the beauty of any frame.

lieved it!” she exclaimed. Two weeks later she was back again and she has been one of Madam’s steadiest patients since.

And so, whether they come willingly or otherwise, it is nearly always, Madam says, the wish to please some man—or men—that is behind these visits to beauty land.

Woman’s Greatest Asset

BEAUTY is, always has been, and always will be, woman’s greatest asset. WTith it she has inveigled state secrets from the lips of kings and roused beggars from the dregs of life. Feminine beauty since time began, has inspired the world, yet it has caused empires to fall. It is at once man’s blessing and his curse. It is woman’s own power and her glory.

Those women who are not born beautiful will, if possible, acquire beauty. Just as ladies fair of past centuries have enhanced their charms with artificial aids to win their errant knights, so does the girl of to-day. But the modern girl is not as wise in her generation as those women of antiquity have been in theirs. They do not know how to make or keep themselves beautiful. They buy cosmetics—rouge, powder, lip-stick, eye pencil, slap it on without any preparation and imagine they have attained beauty. “If they could but see themselves as others see them!” “Any woman can take ten years off her age and keep them off,” said one international authority, “if she goes about it in the proper way, but the women of this continent have yet to learn the first rudiment of beauty—that is the use of soap and water! Most women will apply powder and rouge without first removing the dirt and dust that has collected there. This is a sure way to ruin the skin and in time no amount of cosmetics will hide the defects that it will cause. The dirt works into the pores, creates black-heads and pimples and enlarged pores. It is just dreadful the way women will set about deliberately to ruin their skins in their attempts to beautify themselves.”

My friend, Madame Gerro has been trying for years to educate Canadian and American women to care for their skins, and declares that it is only now that they are beginning to respond. She states that they spend much time caring for their hair, their teeth, their hands and their clothes, but wilfully neglect or abuse that most important factor in an attractive and youthful personality—a clear, unblemished, healthy skin. In order to keep it in this condition Madame Gerro insists that the first essential is frequent washing with warm water and pure soap. The skin should be rinsed after that in tepid water—not cold. After the face has been washed it should be massaged with a good skin food, which should be left on for about half an hour. Then it should be wiped off with absorbent cotton instead of being left on all night. This gives the skin a chance to breathe.

The face, once it has been brought to a normal condition, may be kept that way with creams, provided the right kinds are

used. A cleansing cream should be applied first. After this has been rubbed in and wiped off, a stimulating cream should be put on. This will open the pores, arouse sluggish circulation and bring a healthy glow into the cheeks. Then if an astringent cream is used faithfully those tired lines about the eyes, and mouth will disappear and the sagging muscles will become taut again. Then when a little creme rouge is added and just a suspicion of powder the transformation is little short of marvelous.

Some Complexion Ruiners

THIS authority says that women cannot have pure, unadulterated beauty and lead the lives that so many of the city women of to-day do lead. “To attain beauty and a youthful appearance, one must work with nature not against her,” she said, “and the life of a modern woman is not a natural one. The proof of this is in her face.”

Dry, heated houses are responsible for many shriveled, yellow’ skins. Motoring all day drives dust and grime into the pores. Playing bridge all night causes lack of sleep and consequently “nerves.” No exercise causes flabbiness and sagging muscles; pickles, sauces, sweet foods and lack of exercise make pimples and a rough skin.

Another authority finds that weather conditions and wmter are the chief factors that make for a good or bad skin.

“Vancouver people,” she said, “have beautiful complexions, because their weather is mild, both summer and winter, and their wrater is pure and soft. Much to my astonishment I found that Winnipeg people had beautifully soft skins. This is not due to their weather and I am inclined to think that there must be some beneficial quality in their water. Montreal complexions are better than those of Toronto, which are very dry. Toronto skins, took, are more prone to wrinkle and to contain big pores.”

Beaut} parlors are comparatively new

only to ne* countries such as ours. They are but a modern and scientific development of the ancient hairdressing establishments. which were owned and operated by some of the most wealthy and influential men of the times. A determined and systematic invasion of these modern workshops, a close study of the technique and skill of the masters and mistresses of this exalted art —the imitation of nature—and a steady observation of the scientific methods of the preservation and manufacture of beauty, have cleared away to a certain extent the mystification which has always, more or less, shrouded the actual

The artists, who preside over these establishments, are first of all ardent students of human nature. Not the least part of their art is trying to dissuade women from having done that which will least become them.

A well-known Ontario specialist tells of a woman who came to him when permanent waving was first in vogue on the American continent.

"At that time,” he declared, “each curl cost $2.50 and it w as impossible then to make them a dozen at a time as we do

now. This woman had a small face and a large head of hair. In spite of all I could do to convince her that it would not suit her, she insisted upon having it waved as fully as possible.

“She sat from early until late and much against my will I put in seventy-one curls. After the last curl had been made and her hair fully dressed, the effect was, of course an overwhelming and topheavy one. She was furious and ordered me to cut out ju3t half the curls, for which she had paid me $2.50 each.”

Some Women Are Honest!

PERHAPS the greatest art of the beauty specialist is that of concealing art. The majority of their patrons insist upon concealment. There are those among them, however, who prefer to have it known that artificial means are used, and yet again, others who are indifferent.

A defiant, middle-aged woman, who had been standing for at least fifteen minutes outside the door of a beauty parlor arguing strenuously with a man who protested stubbornly, burst suddenly through the doorway and advanced toward two girls who were ready to minister to clients. The smaller of the two girls nudged her companion. “You take ’er Jen,” she whispered. “She’s a bad ’un ’an you’re the biggest.”

“Positively ridiculous,” stormed the customer, as she yanked off her hat. “To think that I have been such a fool! For the whim of a mere man I have ruined myself! Just look at my wrinkles! And my complexion! I simply shudder every time I look in the glass. I suppose I’m hopeless, but do what you can with me. I don’t

care how plain you make it that 1 come here. I’m coming every week just the same, whether my husband likes it or not.”

And while the other girl waited, the door opened just a crack and a portly, not quite elderly, person peered in timidly, then stepped inside and closed the door quickly. In spite of her size, her every motion bespoke timidity. She tip-toed to the waiting girl.

"Can you fix me up a bit, so that—a— er—well so that no one would know I had been here? My husband, you know! He is a bit old-fashioned and does not approve of the methods we modern women must use to keep our youth, as it were. You understand, don’t you? I couldn’t really have the treatment unless I was quite sure that no one would know.”

Best Work on Own Face

BEAUTY specialists, in the more sophisticated countries, spend years in the study of facial expression, coloring, style, type and shape.

In a hairdressing competition in Paris a Londoner whose model possessed quite obviously the least attractively-dressed

head of hair, won the prize. After the competition had concluded he himself admitted that his hairdressing was less pretentious than that of any of his competitors and explained the secret of his success. He did the hair first and then made up the face to suit it. During the inspection of the judges the model was careful not to move a muscle of her face and so spoil the effect of the picture which he had created.

Speaking of this art of producing expression, a French specialist declares that women can obtain far better results in their facial make-up by doing it themselves and making a study of their own expressions.

“We can do excellent work on a model,” he said, “but that is because they do not move and have no expression other than that which we give them.

“The same work on a human face will appear quite satisfactory to our patrons v/hile they view themselves in the glass, but when they go out, fall into different moods, are the victims of varied emotions, laugh, pout or frown, the effect is lost, because the artificial expression fails to fit in with the natural one. This is one reason why so many women make up to the extreme. They see themselves only in one mood—a quiet frame of mind .before mirrors.”

Beauty specialists declare that it is not the society woman who forms the basis of their business, but rather the business girl.

“Most of our patrons are the kind who wear neat, tailor-made suits, trim dresses and common-sense shoes,” said one. “They do not come to us to have their beauty played up, but simply because they find it to their advantage to look

their best always and to be as pretty and as attractive as possible. If artificial means are used within reason they will gain this effect.”

A Vancouver business man claims that he prefers girls for his office who habitually make up, for this shows their “eye for detail.”

He Likes Her Nose to Shine

[prefer artificial beauty, anyway,” he says. “It is so much more finished than natural good looks. It does more credit to the girl, too, because it proves that she has created beauty where it wasn’t and has therefore overcome a great difficulty.”

A Montreal broker said enthusiastically: “Give me the girl with a rosy complexion, a fresh, bright face and sparkling eyes. These things she will have if she leads the right kind of life outside business hours. She doesn’t have to be pretty to suit me. I like her better if her nose shines a little. It just proves to me that she is real and that’s the most worth-while trait in anybody’s character.”

Yet another business man states that he dislikes the use of cosmetics, but he would

rather see their conspicuous traces on a girl than not, because he believes they all use them and it proves a girl’s honesty if she does not try to conceal the fact and make believe that she does not use them.

And what of these men who are so critical of women and their methods of beautification? In their own way they are just as vain as the women themselves. The reason they are not credited with it is perhaps because they are more successful in being secretive about it. Their barber shops are veritable beauty parlours nevertheless; they have their clay-packs, facial massages, plucked eye-brows and marcel waves too.

Beauty specialists declare that now the age of external treatments alone has passed.

“Diet,” says one, “has much to do with beauty. Constitutional and mental conditions show in the face and in order to look right one must feel and to feel right one must eat right. A happy expression has more to do with good looks than almost anything else. Blackheads and pimples, which are so detrimental to beauty, are caused by blood conditions and poor physical health.”

The clay pack is one of the most modern and most essential aids to beauty. Yet it is nothing more than it professes to be—merely clay just as it comes from Mother Earth; an old beauty secret discovered anew and improved by modern science. Egyptian women realized the value of a certain kind of mud for the skin and used it just as the women of to-day are using the clay packs. This clay when applied to the face builds up the muscles, stimulates the circulation and conse-

quently helps to eliminate wrinkles, leaving the skin soft, smooth and firm.

Vanity Versus Comfort

A TORONTO woman during the recent coal shortage was torn between the necessity of appearing on the public street in her clay mask and allowing her coal man to pass with a wagon-load of coal. Comfort overcame vanity and she dashed into the street, shattering her mask in her endeavours to attract the attention of the coal man.

That is the difficulty—the fragility of* those masks—and it sometimes leads to difficulties as in the case of a very dignified widow of a wealthy eastern magnate. She was ghastly in her clay pack, which had just been spread over her features as icing is applied to the surface of a freshbaked cake.

“Now don’t smile,” cautioned the girl, “or you’ll crack your face.”

The dowager’s small grandson had sprung this joke on her a few days ago. He had picked it up from the gardener’s son. And now this chit of a girl! What impudence! The idea of her daring to speak like that! She gasped at the pre-

posterousness of the thing and that was difficult to do in a rapidly hardening mask. Through the holes in the pack, the clay-covered woman observed the girl who had spoken to her in this saucy manner. She did not look forward or cheeky. Perhaps after all she had only meant to be sociable. The patron tried to swallow her indignation. She could not. The stiff clay cast too closely gripped her throat. But she was a genial soul. Gallantly she decided to pretend appreciation of this joke. It was quite evident that this girl had only tried to amuse her and help pass the time. With a noble effort the dowager in the chair beamed forth her amiability. There was a rending, splitting sound, loud in her ears. The carefullyprepared pack, now thoroughly hardened and spread thin, cracked from ear to ear and fell from her face in a shower of dust.

The girl turned. The dowager was still smiling—a mingled smile of horror and humiliation.

Cured for a Dollar

THE work of a beauty specialist is not easy, but there is usually a laugh tucked away somewhere to compensate for the difficulties in their day's work.

Before beauty parlors had become quite such elaborate establishments of diversified arts as they are at the present time, “Big Bill” Sanderson, a logger from Northern British Columbia, stopped suddenly in a side street of a West Coast city, and gazed curiously at a narrow7 door, bearing a sign, “Manicure.”

He stepped up to it, thrust it open, stuck his head inside and observed a dainty French girl in a crisp, white apron,

arranging a row of small instruments on a marble-topped table.

“What you cure a man of here anyway?” queried the big fellow.

Another spark danced suddenly in the already sparkling eyes of the French maid.

“Zat will cost you ze. dollair to fin’ out,” she answered.

The logger squeezed his big bulk through the door and sat down at the little table with the air with which One ventures into a dark village street on a Hallowe’en night. Suspiciously he gave his rough, hard hand into the small, soft, shapely one of the girl and watched her intently as she began operations on his thumb nail.

“Is that all you do?” he asked, as she began to work on his forefinger.

“Zat ees eet,” he was informed.

“Then I’ve had my money’s worth,” he declared, and digging his free hand into the pocket of his mackinaw he dropped a greasy, crumpled bill on the table, and took his departure. As the little French girl straightened it out, chuckling softly

to herself, she found that it was a twenty dollar bill—not a one.

One of the most extraordinary means of eliminating the traces of age from the face is that of the famous “lift operation.” There are surgeons who specialize in this. Two incisions are made in each temple close to the hair line and a piece of skin removed. Then the two edges are drawn together and sewn into place. This lifts all the muscles of the face and does away with the sagging that causes deep lines around both sides of the mouth, the double chin, the crow’s feet around the eyes. All the appearances of youth are renewed.

Through the past century, women have been learning the art of combating age and keeping themselves attractive and pretty in spite of passing years. It has been a battle for youth, but the loveliness of youth and the doll-like prettiness of flappers are not the types of beauty that are making the greatest appeal to-day. Beauty is now being judged at its best between the ages of thirty and thirty-five —beauty that has matured under the full development of brain and body.