SHOULD WOMEN BE BEAUTIFUL?
PRETTY women are going to have a hard time of it later on. Hitherto,they have had things far too much their own way. In the future there aregoing to be no pretty girls, for the simple reason there will be no plaingirls against which to contrast them. Of late I have done somesystematic reading of ladies’ papers. The plain girl submits to a courseof “treatment.” In eighteen months she bursts upon Society anacknowledged beauty. And it is all done by kindness. One girl writes:
“Only a little while ago I used to look at myself in the glass and cry.Now I look at myself and laugh.”
The letter is accompanied by two photographs of the young lady. I shouldhave cried myself had I seen her as she was at first. She was a stumpy,flat-headed, squat-nosed, cross-eyed thing. She did not even look good.One virtue she appears to have had, however. It was faith. She believedwhat the label said, she did what the label told her. She is now a tall,ravishing young person, her only trouble being, I should say, to knowwhat to do with her hair—it reaches to her knees and must be a nuisanceto her. She would do better to give some of it away. Taking this younglady as a text, it means that the girl who declines to be a dream ofloveliness does so out of obstinacy. What the raw material may be doesnot appear to matter. Provided no feature is absolutely missing, theresult is one and the same.
Arrived at years of discretion, the maiden proceeds to choose the styleof beauty she prefers. Will she be a Juno, a Venus, or a Helen? Willshe have a Grecian nose, or one tip-tilted like the petal of a rose? Lether try the tip-tilted style first. The professor has an idea it isgoing to be fashionable. If afterwards she does not like it, there willbe time to try the Grecian. It is difficult to decide these pointswithout experiment.
Would the lady like a high or a low forehead? Some ladies like to lookintelligent. It is purely a matter of taste. With the Grecian nose, thelow broad forehead perhaps goes better. It is more according toprecedent. On the other hand, the high brainy forehead would be moreoriginal. It is for the lady herself to select.
We come to the question of eyes. The lady fancies a delicate blue, nottoo pronounced a colour—one of those useful shades that go with almosteverything. At the same time there should be depth and passion. Theprofessor understands exactly the sort of eye the lady means. But itwill be expensive. There is a cheap quality; the professor does notrecommend it. True that it passes muster by gaslight, but the sunlightshows it up. It lacks tenderness, and at the price you can hardly expectit to contain much hidden meaning. The professor advises the melting,Oh-George-take-me-in-your-arms-and-still-my-foolish-fears brand. Itcosts a little more, but it pays for itself in the end.
Perhaps it will be best, now the eye has been fixed upon, to discuss thequestion of the hair. The professor opens his book of patterns. Maybethe lady is of a wilful disposition. She loves to run laughing throughthe woods during exceptionally rainy weather; or to gallop across thedowns without a hat, her fair ringlets streaming in the wind, the oldfamily coachman panting and expostulating in the rear. If one may trustthe popular novel, extremely satisfactory husbands have often beensecured in this way. You naturally look at a girl who is walking througha wood, laughing heartily apparently for no other reason than because itis raining—who rides at stretch gallop without a hat. If you havenothing else to do, you follow her. It is always on the cards that sucha girl may do something really amusing before she gets home. Thus thingsbegin.
To a girl of this kind, naturally curly hair is essential. It must bethe sort of hair that looks better when it is soaking wet. The bottle ofstuff that makes this particular hair to grow may be considered dear, ifyou think merely of the price. But that is not the way to look at it.“What is it going to do for me?” That is what the girl has got to askherself. It does not do to spoil the ship for a ha’porth of tar, as thesaying is. If you are going to be a dashing, wilful beauty, you musthave the hair for it, or the whole scheme falls to the ground.
Eyebrows and eyelashes, the professor assumes, the lady would like tomatch the hair. Too much eccentricity the professor does not agree with.Nature, after all, is the best guide; neatness combined with taste, thatis the ideal to be aimed at. The eyebrows should be almost straight, theprofessor thinks; the eyelashes long and silky, with just the suspicionof a curl. The professor would also suggest a little less cheekbone.Cheekbones are being worn low this season.
Will the lady have a dimpled chin, or does she fancy the square-cut jaw?Maybe the square-cut jaw and the firm, sweet mouth are more suitable forthe married woman. They go well enough with the baby and the tea-urn,and the strong, proud man in the background. For the unmarried girl thedimpled chin and the rosebud mouth are, perhaps, on the whole safer.Some gentlemen are so nervous of that firm, square jaw. For the present,at all events, let us keep to the rosebud and the dimple.
Complexion! Well, there is only one complexion worth considering—acreamy white, relieved by delicate peach pink. It goes with everything,and is always effective. Rich olives, striking pallors—yes, you hear ofthese things doing well. The professor’s experience, however, is thatfor all-round work you will never improve upon the plain white and pink.It is less liable to get out of order, and is the easiest at all times torenew.
For the figure, the professor recommends something lithe and supple.Five foot four is a good height, but that is a point that should bediscussed first with the dressmaker. For trains, five foot six is,perhaps, preferable. But for the sporting girl, who has to wear shortfrocks, that height would, of course, be impossible.
The bust and the waist are also points on which the dressmaker should beconsulted. Nothing should be done in a hurry. What is the fashion goingto be for the next two or three seasons? There are styles demanding thatbeginning at the neck you should curve out, like a pouter pigeon. Thereis apparently no difficulty whatever in obtaining this result. But ifcrinolines, for instance, are likely to come in again! The lady has onlyto imagine it for herself: the effect might be grotesque, suggestive of awalking hour-glass. So, too, with the waist. For some fashions it isbetter to have it just a foot from the neck. At other times it is moreuseful lower down. The lady will kindly think over these details and letthe professor know. While one is about it, one may as well make a soundjob.
It is all so simple, and, when you come to think of it, really notexpensive. Age, apparently, makes no difference. A woman is as old asshe looks. In future, I take it, there will be no ladies overfive-and-twenty. Wrinkles! Why any lady should still persist in wearingthem is a mystery to me. With a moderate amount of care any middle-classwoman could save enough out of the housekeeping money in a month to getrid of every one of them. Grey hair! Well, of course, if you cling togrey hair, there is no more to be said. But to ladies who would just assoon have rich wavy-brown or a delicate shade of gold, I would point outthat there are one hundred and forty-seven inexpensive lotions on themarket, any one of which, rubbed gently into the head with a tooth-brush(not too hard) just before going to bed will, to use a colloquialism, dothe trick.
Are you too stout, or are you too thin? All you have to do is to saywhich, and enclose stamps. But do not make a mistake and send for thewrong recipe. If you are already too thin, you might in consequencesuddenly disappear before you found out your mistake. One very stoutlady I knew worked at herself for eighteen months and got stouter everyday. This discouraged her so much that she gave up trying. No doubt shehad made a muddle and had sent for the wrong bottle, but she would notlisten to further advice. She said she was tired of the whole thing.
In future years there will be no need for a young man to look about himfor a wife; he will take the nearest girl, tell her his ideal, and, ifshe really care for him, she will go to the shop and have herself fixedup to his pattern. In certain Eastern countries, I believe, something ofthis kind is done. A gentleman desirous of adding to his family sendsround the neighbourhood the weight and size of his favourite wife,hinting tha
t if another can be found of the same proportions, there isroom for her. Fathers walk round among their daughters, choose the mostlikely specimen, and have her fattened up. That is their brutal Easternway. Out West we shall be more delicate. Match-making mothers willprobably revive the old confession book. Eligible bachelors will beinvited to fill in a page: “Your favourite height in women,” “Yourfavourite measurement round the waist,” “Do you like brunettes orblondes?”
The choice will be left to the girls.
“I do think Henry William just too sweet for words,” the maiden of thefuture will murmur to herself. Gently, coyly, she will draw from him hisideal of what a woman should be. In from six months to a year she willburst upon him, the perfect She; height, size, weight, right to a T. Hewill clasp her in his arms.
“At last,” he will cry, “I have found her, the woman of my dreams.”
And if he does not change his mind, and the bottles do not begin to losetheir effect, there will be every chance that they will be happy everafterwards.
Might not Science go even further? Why rest satisfied with making aworld of merely beautiful women? Cannot Science, while she is about it,make them all good at the same time. I do not apologise for thesuggestion. I used to think all women beautiful and good. It is theirown papers that have disillusioned me. I used to look at this lady or atthat—shyly, when nobody seemed to be noticing me—and think how fair shewas, how stately. Now I only wonder who is her chemist.
They used to tell me, when I was a little boy, that girls were made ofsugar and spice. I know better now. I have read the recipes in theAnswers to Correspondents.
When I was quite a young man I used to sit in dark corners and listen,with swelling heart, while people at the piano told me where little girlbabies got their wonderful eyes from, of the things they did to them inheaven that gave them dimples. Ah me! I wish now I had never comeacross those ladies’ papers. I know the stuff that causes thosebewitching eyes. I know the shop where they make those dimples; I havepassed it and looked in. I thought they were produced by angels’ kisses,but there was not an angel about the place, that I could see. Perhaps Ihave also been deceived as regards their goodness. Maybe all women arenot so perfect as in the popular short story they appear to be. That iswhy I suggest that Science should proceed still further, and make themall as beautiful in mind as she is now able to make them in body. May wenot live to see in the advertisement columns of the ladies’ paper of thefuture the portrait of a young girl sulking in a corner—“Before takingthe lotion!” The same girl dancing among her little brothers andsisters, shedding sunlight through the home—“After the three firstbottles!” May we not have the Caudle Mixture: One tablespoonful atbed-time guaranteed to make the lady murmur, “Good-night, dear; hopeyou’ll sleep well,” and at once to fall asleep, her lips parted in asmile? Maybe some specialist of the future will advertise Mind Massage:“Warranted to remove from the most obstinate subject all traces ofhatred, envy, and malice.”
And, when Science has done everything possible for women, there might beno harm in her turning her attention to us men. Her idea at presentseems to be that we men are too beautiful, physically and morally, toneed improvement. Personally, there are one or two points about which Ishould like to consult her.