THE CITY OF LOVELIEST WOMEN

Shannon News, 24 January 1928, Page 4

THE CITY OF LOVELIEST WOMEN

WHERE BEAUTY IS SUPREME,

(By H. J. Greenall.)

Where does one find the most beautiful women? Is it in London,. Berlin, Paris, New York, Budapest? All these great cities formulate their claims, but to award the apple one must certainly listen to the pleas of smaller towns such as Seville or Stockholm or. Madrid.

Let us begin across the Atlantic and examine the claim of Miss New York. You meet her on Fifth Avenue of a morning, her close-fitting toque worn in curious fashion on the back of her head, her short skirts aswirl displaying her rolled stockings; the morning march of Miss New York reminded me very much, of a parade •:f the Gordon Highlanders.

Paris? Ah, that well-known charm of le Parisienne will certainly obtain a number of votes anywhere. The midinette, the mannequin, or the woman of society, all and every one possess a subtle something which causes us to catch our breath, to hold on, as it were, and to metaphorically raise our hats to Paris. But, granted that every Frenchwoman knows how to wear her clothes, dress her hair —in a sentence, to make the most of herself —yet when it is all said and done, Paris as a city is not the place where one finds beautiful women.

Let us now go south, right across France and Spain, until we come to Seville, that old-time city, set .like a gem in the wild country of Andalusia. Dp north the Spanish women, except on the high days and holidays, abandon their picturesque mantilla for smart hats which try to copy Paris fashions, but in Seville there is real cult of beauty. Graceful women wearing mantillas and handling fans trip out from the patios, the courtyards of their houses, where fountains

splash, and cause even the most jaded eyes to pay .attention. We will now go east and look at the women of Italy, the pretty darkeyed beauties of Naples, who can easily challenge comparison with those of any other city in Italy. But even in Naples one finds that one type, and,one type only is apt to cloy. In Budapest, the home of the gipsy musicians, one finds the most beautiful type of women in Eastern Europe. With flashing eyes and magnificent carriage they promenade the Corsa, the leafy avenue which follows the winding Danube. But how much of the beauty of the Hungarian of Budapest is gained from romance of the background, the wail of violins which comes from every cafe, the songs of Hungary rising and falling in lazy cadence? Background, as every woman knows counts for so much.

In Turkey, where women have abandoned the veil and are trying to place themselves in the same category as their European sisters, I find that as much has been lost as has been gained. One misses the mystery, the pair of sparkling eyes that looked through a yashmak appeared so sorrowful, so soulful, that one was forced to believe the owner beautiful. But now? Well, a Turkish woman without the yashmak is very much like an egg without-salt.

Come then, with me to Vienna, the city that once was gay, but which is now no longer. Here I feci sure you will not be disappointed. The Viennese is lively and pretty. She laughs at life even now. She adores dancing, not only the lilting waltz of old but even the modern 'dances. She flits and she flirts. Her little feet'aro never still. In Vienna life is orchestrated in three-four time.

The women of Berlin have one great idea in life —to be mistaken for Parisaennes.. They have not as yet, quite accomplished their ambition. There is something missing. Per-

haps it* is their pose, their carriage

But it is as if one were looking at a remarkably good imitation of the rjgal thing.

In the Kurfurstendamm, the centre of the night life of Berlin, one meets stylishly dressed, really pretty women they seem to have cut yards off their skirts, and their hats no longer resemble a combination of the Zoological and Botanic Gardens. But there is such a wide difference separating beauty from mere prettiness that I should certainly hesitate before awarding the apple to Berlin.

Would you mind very much if <I KUggcsted .that we took a look at London? You laugh, perhaps, and say, "Oh, well, of course, the fellow is and very likely he comes from London."

I do. But that is no reason why, having roamed the world over, ,? I should not have a word to say about the women of London. If you take a section of London and compare ,it with a section of any city you like to mention, I will guarantee you will find more pleasing looking women jn London town than anywhere else in the world.

You doubt me? Very well, watch the crowd coming out of a theatre. Have you ever seen such complexions? Have you ever noticed such comliness —a good old-fashioned word—as you will see among the women and girls waiting for their motor-cars? Even if beauty be but skin deep, you wjll have to go far indeed to find more of it than in London.

Then again, use your eyes in omnibus and Tube, look at Lizzie of London going to work. Her- stockings are not rolled; she needs neither mantilla nor fan to provide her with grace. And, let me whisper this: she has learned to wear her clothes. Yes, I think, taking it all in all, the women of London can look the world in the face without needing- to . : ~. :■;::■ mm