THE WEEK-END SUITCASE

Sun (Auckland), Volume II, Issue 316, 29 March 1928, Page 9

THE WEEK-END SUITCASE

I know a girl who always looks nicely dressed, though I happen also to know that she has but a very limited clothes allowance. She is one of those born organisers whose bump of management extends to her wardrobe as well as her work. Without devoting an unconscionable amount of time and thought to matters sartorial, she contrives nevertheless to appear always in the right garb on the right occasion. Among other well-organised aspects of that “just right” wardrobe of hers, her “suit-case section,” as she calls it, is an excellent notion. It enables her to accept welcome week-end invitations from her numerous friends, some of them pretty wealthy folks, without a last-minute scramble to look over essential items. Eleventh-hour pressing and ironing, stocking-darning, lin-gerie-tubbing, hairbrush-washing, and so forth, are trials she has eliminated from her little social scheme. Because she has set about planning a couple of complete week-end wardrobes in the early stages of her career, and kept up the practice. As funds permitted, she made gradual additions thereto; and now finds herself prepared to pack her Saturday-to-Monday valise with a light heart. All ready at her disposal are the separate week-end brushes and combs; sponge-bag allocated specially to that purpose; kimono kept exclusively for the same; likewise, slippers, both for bedroom and drawing room. And so on through the whole gamut of sartorial essentials, not forgetting a separate little supply of week-end hosiery and a couple of pairs of gloves. Repairs are not often needed; when they are, it is much easier to deal with a specially segregated, small consignment, as it were than to run through a motley array of items in everyday use.