Trafalgar School - Echoes Yearbook (Montreal, Quebec Canada)

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SELECTING A WARDROBE THE PRIME requisites in the selection of a wardrobe to cover oneself and all occasions are a supply of money (preferably limitless) and a sense of dress, a faculty which is not easily acquired by some, and never by many. A particular instance to amplify this contention would be that of my Great-Aunt Maud, a lady of quite ample proportions, who had her own ideas on the subject of dress, and who once assisted me in the selection of a wardrobe suitable for wear, as she expressed it, in one of the remoter outposts of the Empire . She referred to Canada. Thinking back, whatever shortcomings she might have had on the subject of dress, she had a pretty turn of phrase and was an excellent companion. I had prepared a list of occasions and garments suitable for each occasion, with a view to deciding upon a minimum or basic wardrobe, to be varied later by different accessories to provide a ringing of the changes . The list was formidable, and I was quite glad to have access to at least one of the prime requisites, a limitless supply of money. Dear Papa! The list, however, was by no means as formidable as Great-Aunt Maud, whose descent upon unsuspecting clothing stores is reminiscent of the Crusades. There is one West End store in London where, upon her entry, the manager promptly goes to lunch, be it only ten o ' clock in the morning. We entered the sviit department first, since I had three suits on my list, a light tweedy one for country or informal wear, and a gray and a blue for town wear. These were to form a nucleus, with sweaters and blouses for day Autumn wear. I had decided, if possible, to choose the two town suits so that the same accessories might be worn with both. When we left the suit department some three hours later, I was exhausted. I had tried on every suit that was my size in the establishment, as well as many suits that were not. Despite the attempts of Great-Aunt Maud to persuade me to have browns and greens, I had emerged with the suits of the colours I had first decided upon. The manageress was in a state of collapse; Aunt Maud, however, was serene and in command of the situation. Lunch, now, she said, and lunch it was. Lunch with Aunt Maud is an experience that would require a further essay; suffice it to say we had lunch and restuned our foray. Shoes, stockings, underwear, a camel top-coat and a smart suede hat were eventually purchased with Aunt Maud disapproving my choice on all occasions. Oh no! my dear, not that! I can hear her yet. At length, in the dress depart- ment, after I had chosen the three day dresses on my list, and a formal dress. Aunt Maud turned to me and said, I would like to buy you a dress as a gift, but you must be guided by me! and she chose me a 1920 chemise dress! Imagine my predicament, and remember, too, I am in the Will. Worse was to come, however, for immediately afterwards I found myself in possession of a couple of yards of pearl beads to wear with the dress. Learn to twirl them gracefully, she advised me. My shame was complete; I ' ll never, never wear them, I thought. How little we know ourselves now becomes obvious, for, yes, you have guessed it, of all the things I purchased that day. Aunt Maud ' s dress [27]

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THE ADVANCING OF THE TIDE STANDING on the scorching sand, I stared out over the rolHng sea. The moon, which was but a small, white crescent in the afternoon sky, had started drawing the sea shoreward; soon the tide would engulf the miles and miles of silvery sand whereupon I now stood. I watched it come, bit by bit, so regularly that the rhythm of the sea gripped me and held me in its grasp. The whitecaps rushed in and burst, the foam rising nearer and nearer to my bare feet, and then subsiding. My eyes were glued to the sand before me, measuring the distance each time that the gigantic waves rolled in and broke. Closer and closer, each time just a little closer, until the sand was swept from under my feet, and my toes dug into the changing land beneath me. Again and again the waves tumbled in, back and forth, and their motion gripped me and held me in its grasp — the continuous rising and falling, rising and falling, until every movement within my body was rising and falling with the sea. The water rose higher and higher on my legs as it poured forth over the hot, dry land, then the under-current dragged it swiftly back, and at the same time, fresh sea rushed in past me. A gull swooped by and soared upward; still the sea was rising — rising and falling — and still it rose . . . Laureen Hicks, Arts VI, Fairley House. ADOLESCENCE I was wandering far and alone. Seeking the call of fortune. Alive and awake with the dawn, And at night fading into the mist. I wandered past rivers running to sea, Past lakes, and mountains, and towns. Like the wind I wandered alone and free, Still not by fortune found. I did not know what I was seeking, I knew only it had to be found. So I wandered on like the stream, Onward and into a pond. The pond was calm, not the sea of life; It was happiness pure, without strings. But, like the fool that I was, I wandered on And left the pond behind. RoNNE Heming, Form IVa, Fairley House. • • • [26]

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is my favourite, and I am prepared to wear it on all occasions, however im- suitable, for in it he says I look a living doll . Perhaps Aunt Maud is right after all. She selects her wardrobe to suit herself, and if the fancy takes her to wear a picture hat to the opera she will do so, and what a brave man he would be who sat behind her and asked her to remove it! The success of this manner of selection is borne out by three husbands, who have adored her. As for me, I would wear only 1920 chemise dresses all the time, at least until I change him ; but when tomorrow comes I shall put on my gym tunic, which gives me all the charm and grace of a leggy giraffe, knowing full well that this is not the way to get three husbands. Stephanie Windsor-Pleydell, Arts VI, Gumming House. A VISIT TO AN ART GALLERY IT WAS a dull afternoon when I took one of London ' s old rambling taxis to the art gallery. Upon arriving, I discovered that I hadn ' t enough money to pay my fare. I swallowed hard, then told the driver that if he would be kind enough to wa it a few minutes, I would return with the necessary amount. He looked at me suspiciously, then decided to trust the flustered school girl. Rushing into the art gallery, I went to the office. There, I explained my predi- cament to the manager, who, after a phone call to my father ' s office, gave me the required sum. When I appeared at the door, I saw the taxi driver ' s face lit with agreeable surprise, for I had been absent for more than ten minutes! Returning into the building, I was met by the manager who had decided to guide me personally through the gallery. What a pleasant surprise! A dis- agreeable situation had for once turned out for the best. As we walked around, the manager gave me a very detailed history of each painting we saw. I greatly admired the Renaissance paintings and statues with their smooth lines. Suddenly I found myself amid a group of untidy-looking artists. Do you know where I was? In the modern section. The so-called artists surrounded the manager who cast a desperate glance towards me, which indi- cated that I had better continue my tour alone, for he would be stuck with those people for a very long time ! The first couple of paintings I saw were more or less realistic, but I could not say as much for the rest. I stood for several minutes in front of four paintings which belonged together. The first was composed of horizontal lines and a few blobs; the second of vertical lines and several dashes; the third of horizontal and vertical lines; the fourth of dots and dashes. What could they possibly represent? I looked at the titles — Paris in Spring, Paris in Summer, Paris in Autumn, Paris in Winter — and to think that I had visited Paris ! The next painting I puzzled over for about ten minutes. Aloud I said, It must represent a ship sailing through fog. A man at my side stared at me, then said, My dear child, this represents a warrior fighting with a dragon! From then on, I determined to look at the title first and then try to see the connection between it and the painting. However, I hadn ' t the courage to see all the modern paintings, and after a few minutes, left. At the entrance I met the manager who asked me if I had enjoyed myself. Of course, I replied. Thank you very much for having been so kind to me! I then departed, feeling slightly guilty. Simone Engelbert, Arts VI, Gumming House. [28]