m almost "out of key" with the attitude of
to-day. For although fancy-dress and elaborate parties are occasionally
given, they are not usually given for debutantes, nor on the scale of
those mentioned above.

=THE DEBUTANTE'S DRESS=

At a ball, the debutante wears her very prettiest ball dress.
Old-fashioned sentiment prefers that it be white, and of some diaphanous
material, such as net or gauze or lace. It ought not to look
overelaborate, even though it is spangled with silver or crystal or is
made of sheer lace. It should suggest something light and airy and gay
and, above all, young. For a young girl to whom white is unbecoming, a
color is perfectly suitable as long as it is a pale shade. She should not
wear strong colors such as red, or Yale blue, and on no account black! Her
mother, of course, wears as handsome a ball dress as possible, and "all
her jewels."

At an afternoon tea the debutante wears an evening dress--a very simple
evening dress, but an evening dress all the same. Usually a very pale
color, and quite untrimmed, such as she might wear at home for dinner. Her
mother wears an afternoon dress, not an evening one. Both mother and
daughter wear long gloves, and neither they, nor the young girls
receiving, wear hats.

To describe the details of clothes is futile. Almost before this page
comes from the printer, the trend may quite likely change. But the
tendency of the moment is toward greater simplicity--in effect at all
events.

=IN CONFIDENCE TO A DEBUTANTE=

Let us pretend a worldly old godmother is speaking, and let us suppose
that you are a young girl on the evening of your coming-out ball. You are
excited, of course you are! It is your evening, and you are a sort of
little princess! There is music, and there are lights, and there are
flowers everywhere--a great ballroom massed with them, tables heaped with
bouquets--all for you! You have on an especially beautiful dress--one that
was selected from among many others, just because it seemed to you the
prettiest. Even your mother and married sister who, "_en grande tenue_,"
have always seemed to you dazzling figures, have for the moment become,
for all their brocades and jewels, merely background; and you alone are
the center of the picture. Up the wide staircase come throngs of
fashionables--who mean "the world." They are coming on purpose to bow to
you! You can't help feeling that the glittering dresses, the tiaras, the
ropes of pearls and