PARIS'S A AVIATOR COMPLEX

NZ Truth, Issue 1149, 8 December 1927, Page 5

PARIS'S A AVIATOR COMPLEX

Deauville Visitors Revel In Wild Feast of Unimaginable Gaiety and Luxury

SOUL- MATES AND COLORED BATHING COSTUMES

(From "N.Z. Truth's" Parisienne Correspondent.) The Aviator Complex! The Continent appears to be m the throes of a frenzy over anything pertaining to aviation and Charmian, our Paris correspondent, speaks feelingly of the joys of rising at 3 a.m. to view the departure of an aeroplane on a non-stop flight when — but read this for yourself. A cheerful view is taken by Charmian of the bathing costumes she saw m Deauville, and her description of the male bathing beauty may be of interest to our New Zealand males, who pay more than a passing attention to fashion's decree.

Ma chere amie, — Have you ever heard fif the aviator complex? By it I mean the mentality of gentlemen who prefer the uncertainty of man-made wings to the comparative safety of what the French call "le plancher des vaches" the cows' floor, m other words — mother earth. \ In the last few days I have had my flrst taste of the aforesaid complex, and have come to the conclusion expressed by — they can have it! Called up at the obscene hours of three a.m. by a car full of those awful people called journalists, with cynical disregard for the purity of my reputation and the concierge's feelings, I was whirled out to Le Bourget to witness the expected departure of an aeroplane for a non-stop flight to the States. We arrived at that dead hour that precedes the first promise of dawn, to find an atmosphere of nervous tension such as I have never encountered. For' days the men had been awaiting the signal to go, prompted by the meteorological report. Machines were tuned to the highest pitch, every precaution taken against possible disaster. The

great bird seemed to await the word to rise up, carrying its precious burden. The two aviators are there, accompanied by their wives. Tender farewells, brave forcing back of tears, dumb misery and loving pride surround the two strong men, ready to start out at last on that adventure of life and death. Our own heart thumps hard m sympathy. When — Storm on the Atalantic — is signalled, consequently no departure. The Germans have had to turn back m their attempt, so things are still more acute at Le Bourget. The pressmen dare not miss a single night's vigil, and still have to carry on during the day. When Nungesser and CoM were ready to start, one journalist watched with them for six nights, but gave it up on the seventh — and Nungesser and Coli got away that night. The poor soul has never been the same since! I think I promised you m my last letter to tell you all about Le Touquet. I assure you I had every intention of

fulfilling my promise, but somehow circumstances, a charming invitation, and a big car contrived to deposit me once more at Deauville, and I can't say that I am sorry, for never had r imagined such a feast of gaiety and luxury. Paris has transported itself bodily to Deauville, emptying into it her most beautiful frocks, her finest artists, and her prettiest, women, French or foreign. There are racing and polo, bathing and sun-bathing, ukulele competitions and children's mannequin parades, baccarat and roulette, Yale bands and Tango orchestras, with everyone trying to get as near to nature as possible, and yet keep their figure. The riches of four Continents seem to be pouring forth. A sandwich costs 25 francs, and a bunch of roses a small fortune. Women do their skipping exercises wearing priceless strings of pearls, men sport tie-pins the size of hat ornaments. A portion of the beach has been covered with boards to keep the sand out of the painted shoes, and there every conceivable kind of apparel is seen. At . the beach cafe, morning frocks costing a mere 15,000 francs are worn. White holds sway. Even when it rains, the macintoshes are often white. Bathing costumes are of the most daring and wild, and — brief. If you possess a soul-mate, you ask him to prove his devotion by wearing the same colored costume as your own, thereby admitting the ownership. After all, it's only getting back to the Adam and Eve stage, "man was not meant to bathe alone." Every color of the rainbo\v is worn. Stripes are rampant. One athletic sun-burnt Venus caused a sensation m sensational Deauville. Her costume was of scarlet jersey, and she wore a fish-net flung over one shoulder. Corks bordered the net, and corks formed bracelets around her wrists. In the water she looked like a gold-fish caught m a fisherman's trap. --Yours.. CHARMIAN.