Poiret Protests

French aristocracy has, in the main, a healthy contempt for le T. S. F.;* but, recently, when famed coutourier Paul Poiret spoke over ether waves at Paris, he was widely listened to -- for M. Poiret had a grievance. He complained -- as does many a great artist who executes the commissions of a U. S. clientele -- that his work is only bought, not appreciated. A sturdy U. S. comment would be: "He should worry, so long as it's bought!" But M. Poiret's deep, booming voice had a note savoring of genuine anguish last week, as it reverberated from many an haut parleur./- Said he: "My name, la marque Poiret, has been damaged, my art thwarted, by American women who have not used discretion in buying or copying my creations. . . . Each robe Poiret is meant, need I say it, for one certain type of woman. Mais . . . [with nasal protest] les dames Americaines, what do they do? Alas! Too often an American woman of one kind buys in their shops a Poiret gown which is not for her. . . ." Many who listened sympathized; but wondered at what the great Poiret was driving. Of course French folk and the U. S. colony at Paris like nothing better than to hear "native" U. S. citizens belittled; but had shrewd Paul Poiret no more in mind than to vent a trifle of honest spleen? He had. He made mention, at last, of an intention to tour the U. S. next fall, lecturing to women's clubs on how a U. S. woman may divine whether the imported gown of her choice is, or is not, "for her."

An idea of what U. S. newsgatherers will say about M. Poiret could be gleaned from a space filler done last week by one Henry Beckett of the New York Evening Post, who hashed up half-truths thus: "In Paris M. Poiret inhabits a studio with leopard skins on the floors, frescoes on the walls and stone figures of nude women on pedestals. He gained note as a builder of styles for fat women, and he learned about women--fat women --from umbrellas. He used to be an apprentice to an umbrella manufacturer, and he studied the lines and curves and ribs. He also turned around to look at women on the boulevards. In this he differed not a whit from other Parisian gentlemen, but he took notes. He then made sketches and sold them to dressmakers. Finally, the owner of a dress establishment gave him a job in return for a dog that M Poiret's father gave to the dress-place proprietor."

*Radio," or, translating the abbreviation literally: "Telegraph without Wires. /-Loud speaker.