noon, and night. What is more, we are unconsciously, while we dance, warring not only with unnatural lines of figure and gowns, but we are warring against fat, against sickness, and against nervous troubles. For we are exercising. We are making ourselves lithe and slim and healthy, and these are things that all the reformers in the world could not do for us.
When Mr. Castle and I look at the girls of 1914 who come to dance in their straight, often quite full frocks of soft chiffon, their low-heeled easy slippers, their simply arranged hair, and when we see how lightly and easily they dance unhampered by uncomfortable clothes, we cannot help contrasting them with the girls who came to us only a few months ago trussed up like unhappy little fowls.
Dancing has had its influence upon the materials that have come into vogue. It is necessary to have one's frocks soft and light. A stiff, heavy material looks awkward and makes harsh lines about the figure in the charming measures of the dance. In consequence there has arisen a tremendous demand for soft crêpes de Chine, chiffon velvets, delicate crêpe déteors, and the softest and most supple of taffetas, which are at the moment the most fashionable of all. Perhaps
the designers and the manufacturers will not admit
146
