THE CYNIC AND THE BEAUTY COMPETITION.

Dominion, Volume 14, Issue 253, 20 July 1921, Page 3

THE CYNIC AND THE BEAUTY COMPETITION.

POWDER PUFFS IN THE BALANCE.

rrtHE recent “Daily Mirror" Beauty Com--i- petition seems, like a stone dropped in a pond, bo have awakened a series of ripples which penetrate to all parts of society. Hardly can one go to a "Victory Ball” for a few hours’ undiluted merriment not entirely unconnected with jazz, without finding that the dancing- is to be, interrupted by a "beauty competition.’ Certainly the winners of these affairs do not leap into fame and fortune at a bound like the "Daily Mirror’s” lovely find, but they probably enjoy a certain amount of private satisfaction. One can imagine a cynic inviting his lady guest to a beauty-competition-dance. They appear painted, powdered, and marcelled. They dance, until the small hours, in the tempered glare of electric light Cornea th© dawn. The lights are turned out; the curtains pulled back to let in the cruel morning light. "Ladies," says the host, "will you take vour places for the Beauty Competition. Need any more be said? Few of us claim the perfection of beauty as set forth in someone s criterion. "If you can face the sun when all the others are sitting with their backs toward* the light," but under more kindly illumination it is possible to look ones very prettiest at a danoe. One must admit that the heat of the ballroom and the ardour of dancing are foes to the complexion, and what maiden in these days of serious dancing dares retire too frequently to powder her shining little no»o?

Yet even this has its remedy, as the wise girl knows. Before coming to the dance Phyllis bathes her face and neck with a solution of pure eleminite, which she rubs well into tho skin with her finger-tips until it is quite dry. This done, her complexion assumes a peachlike finish which will remain unchanged during a whole evening’s dancing. I suppose every girl would like a new frock for each dance she, goes to? But even the unemployed would find that rather a strain on the exchequer. It is a consolation, even if a poor one, to reflect that no amount of frocks will give a girl real prettiness—which is what counts in the end. A pretty complexion, which is the beginning of all beauty, is quite cheap, you know. For about one half-penny you can have a clean, fresh, new skin (not the old one cleaned up for the occasion) for every dance you go to. I expect any girl oould explain this apparent mystery. For tho benefit of those who cannot, here is the solution. Got some mercolised wax from the chemist. It is rather expensive but it lasts a long time with care. Smear it oyer your face before going to bed, not using too much, and wash it off in the morning. The oxygen contained in the -wax absorbs the outer skin which has become rough and coarse, and gives the new skin below a chance to Show itself. Quite simple, isn’t it? Certainly, the sort of complexion you get from using simple preparations like the above should be an asset in any beauty competition— even the cynic’s!