**** ROTATE **** **** ROTATE **** **** ROTATE **** **** ROTATE ****

Find this Story

Print, a form you can hold

Wireless download to your Amazon Kindle

Look for a summary or analysis of this Story.

Enjoy this? Share it!

PAGE 2

The Dessert Of Life
by [?]

You perceive, as you continue your stroll with a brightened and a more perfumed mind, that there are no shoe stores here. Shoo stores!! “Booteries,” these are. Combined with “hosieries.” Countless are the smart hat shops for women. That is to say, the establishments of “chapeaux importers.” In the miniature parlours framed by the windows’ glass these chic and ravishing creations, the chapeaux, rise in a row high upon their slim and lovely stems. This one is the establishment of Mlle. Edythe, that of Mme. Vigneau. Countless, too, are the terrestrial heavens devoted to “gowns.” Headless they stand, these symphonies in feminine apparel, side by side here in the windows of the Maison la Mode, there of the Maison Estelle. Frequent are the places where the figure is cultivated with famous corsets, the retreats of “corsetieres”; this one before you bears the name Fayette; it is where the model “Madame Pompadour” is sold. And numerous are shops luxuriating in waists, “blouses,” lingerie, and “novelties” of dress. Conspicuous among them, the “Dolly Dimple Shop.” The many “furriers” here all deal in “exclusive” furs and their names all end in “sky.”

And there are roses, roses all the way. That is to say, “roseries,” “violeteries,” and the like–what we call florists’ shops, you know. Spots of gorgeous colour and intense fragrance, heaped high with orchids, violets, roses, gardenias, or, in some cases, “artificial flowers.”

See! the luscious wax busts in the window. With their grandes coiffures. And their pink and yellow bosoms resplendent with gems. It is a hair-dresser’s, just as in London, with a gentlemen’s parlour at the back. “Structures” are made here in human hair, and “marcel waving” is done, not, however, we may suppose, for gentlemen. Here may be had an “olive oil shampoo,” and a “facial massage.” One could be “manicured” in the stroll you are taking every ten minutes or so, if one wished. And “hair cutting” is done along this way by artistes from various lands. There is, for instance, the Peluqueria Espanola. “Service,” too, is offered “at residence.” Beauty here is held in esteem as it was among the Greeks. Upon one side of the “chemist’s” window “toilet requisites” are announced for sale. The “valet system” is extensively advertised. The industry of “dry cleansing” nourishes, and the “shoe renovator” abounds. And hats are “renovated,” and “blocked,” and “ironed,” in places without number.

What a delightful tea-room is this! With its woodwork, its panelling, and its little window lattices, all in beautiful enamelled white. That is not a tea-room! I’m ‘sprised at you. That is a laundry. A laundry? Shades of Hop Loo! It is even so. There are a variety of types of laundry in this part of the world, but the great point of them all is their “sanitary” character. All things are sanitary here; the shaving brushes at the barber’s are proclaimed sanitary; “sanitary tailoring” is announced; and the creameries of this district, it would seem, go beyond anything yet achieved elsewhere in the way of sanitation. It might be imagined from a study of window signs that a perverse person bent upon procuring un-“pasteurized” milk in this part of town would be frustrated of his design.

I was sent to what my understanding conceived to be the “bakery” in our immediate neighbourhood, on an errand. This place, I found, was called the “Queen Elizabeth.” I was dreadfully abashed when I got inside. I was afraid that there might be some bit of mud on my shoes which would soil the polished floor; and I became keenly conscious that my trowsers were not perfectly pressed. I should, of course, have worn my tail-coat. There were several ladies there receiving guests that afternoon. I had a tete-a-tete with one of these, who gossiped pleasantly about the cakes–I was to get some cakes. The nicest cakes at the “Queen Elizabeth,” it seems, are of two kinds: “Maids of Court” and “Ladies in Waiting.” Our neighbourhood is rich in shops given to “pastry,” “sweets,” “bon bons.” Shops of charming names! There is the “Ambrosia Confection Shop,” and the place of the “Patisserie et Confiserie.”