THE ATTIC-VISTIC PASTIMES

by Lil - Calif.

ARTICLE

A good many of us, I do hope, recall the dynamic contentment . . . long, long before puberty. of playing dress-up with friends in some excitingly musty, dry attic. Remember sneaking the keys and opening trunks of long unworn clothes, holding up to you before some hideous dresser mirror this tassled Twenties' sack or that beaded, angle-skirted formal? Remember your fever in figuring which of all these treasures to try on first. I have very fond recollections of these free-for-nothing troves in my attic and in my next-door-neighbor girlfriend's attic. I remember, exquisitely a simple cloche which, above a shimmery sack, framed my face so prettily that, I say in honest modesty, I did not recognize the piquant little face with its Cupid's bow lip at all.

You more recent types probably had your maiden discoveries from trunks in great skirts and blossomy puffed blouses of the New Look epoch... the most joyous and sudden fashion event of the 20th century. I envy you that discovery . . . although at that time I was old enough to merely go shopping for them.

Perhaps your maiden discovery was in the family Hallowe'en box... pert cowgirl outfits, gypsy gowns, or just indeterminate great black net shawls that I, at least, draped endlessly for all manner of ever-changing effects. Do you recall? I do . . . and I'm having the same fun today. But today my “attic" is the frequent rummage sale or the Goodwill type of resale store. I haunt 'em, and have found marvelous treasures for what amounts to no money at all. I do recommend!

Some for-instances:

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