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Shop Talk

September 6, 1934
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There is nothing to equal an attack of love, or loneliness, for casting the fair sex into a slough of despondency. All I ask is—don’t make a national tragedy of it. The tried-and-true antidote —especially now that Fall is sneaking in—is a new dress, a wool crepe that fairly brings the cool weather to your door. Lord & Taylor harbors a score of stunning models. Take my word for it, dresses such as these, and there are loads of them, are bound to take you right out of your velvet-lined rut of misery. And the prices are scheduled to make you forget them.

The Tailored Woman is not just a name to deceive the public. It is the badge of purpose—worn by that up-and-coming shop on Fifth avenue (just before the traffic stops you at Fifty-seventh street). I heard that this smart shop had a big news story to pour into my willing ear. It did. They are making a Fall tailored suit— right on your back—with as many fittings as are required to make the old chassis look like a 1935 model with all the new improvements. And the price—F.O.B. Tailored Woman, New York—is not a penny over what you would ordinarily pay for a ready made suit. What with the textile strike, this is something pretty special.

One day, not so long ago, a lovely lady thought she had discovered Bronie Horn—that hat genius, tucked away in West 72nd street at No. 218. (I found her long ago and have stopped many times to admire her head-craft). This lovely lady had been an expatriate living in Paris, until the dollar sign looked like nothing at all. She was distraite! She had acquired the delightful habit, after champagne cocktails at the Ritz Bar, of dropping in at Rose Descat and saying "a little number to wear in the country, you know with my Chanel tweed"—and then taxi-ing over to Maria Guy with a handful of swatches and saying, "Oh, this and that to go with my Mainbocher, my Schiaparelli." You know how it is in Paris. Well, when she returned to New York— until she found Bronie Horn, her life was just ruined. Now she is on the crest of a wave again,—a hat wave. Madam Horn knows what to do about your hats. She doesn’t work on felts, satins, tweeds and Lastex—she revels in them.

And now for Babies! When I got through Shop-snooping for babies—just babies—I was very merry, I was very tired. The Blessed Event can take you into the most delightful shops in New York. I pulled up at Best’s, where they told me that, though the stork may bring your baby a single, fashion says his sweaters must be twins. So Best in their wily way, got busy and had sophisticated twin sweaters done into infantile sizes. The first connecting link between the baby of today and the football hero of tomorrow. Best, in the Lilliputian Bazaar, does a wonderful job—it is so thorough, so efficient. It always sends me on my way determined to do or die. This shop is manned by experienced women who can teach you more baby technique in ten minutes than you will get out of months of intensive research.

The Jewish Daily Bulletin classified columns have been used most successfully. Try them for yourself

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