p. 15 | A Question of Clothes

Review and Herald Publishing Association · Washington, D. C. · Apr 15, 1915

A Question of Clothes

WHY do a few people of one’s acquaintance seem always well dressed—not extravagantly, but attractively dressed? There is but one answer. It is the manners that they wear. These unwoven garments are always pleasing. No one disputes this explanation. It is truer than the sunrise itself, which discovers our attire. For gracious manners may be revealed in the darkest midnight.

Observe how quickly a voice which charms you in conversation will make you unconscious of the speaker’s clothes or appearance. Clear utterance, distinct enunciation, fit words borne on the modulations of a fine voice,—these get hold of you instantly and overmaster your very eyes. You surrender yourself wholly to listening and replying.

“Dressed in a fine voice” may seem a novel thing in fashion talk. Milliners, modistes, and tailors do not furnish this garment. It never appears as an item in a big bill. And, when you come to think of it, it is rare among a whole roomful at a social function. You will find only one here and there wearing the excellent voice, and clothing his thought in the right words.

Genuine human interest, the something in the eyes which invites confidence, a truthful look in the countenance, whether in trivial or serious conversation, irradiates a plain face with a light which never for thousands of years, even once shone in a diamond. What memories we all carry of beautiful, truthful eyes adorning the whole person, though the individual’s clothes were plain and poor!

Such adornments are not sold in Vanity Fair. They are given away only to the soul aware of its own sincerity.

These are but hints at a study of manners—that best of good dressing which we are all conscious of, yet which eludes all descriptive analysis. Really it is the mind within our bodies that gets dressed first. The back does not know its own coat. We dress to please our own minds and the minds of others. We think out what we shall wear. The mind asks, “What will become of me?” And shall not the mind ask its conscious self, “What is beautiful in me?” Indeed it does, and it has been the question of the ages.

Minds, wearing courage like a spiritual garment, have adorned the rough clothing of the life-saving crew. No king’s ermine like that! Gracious, unselfish, heroic souls have made the Red Cross uniforms on a battle field more resplendent than the dazzling trappings of any proud drawing-room. The homespun cloth of the colonial days set a fashion of grace that yet lasts; for those who wore it were women of mind and heart. To many of us the very thought of fashion in connection with mother’s dress seems almost profane. Dress? She could not dress otherwise than as an angel.

It is often said that the world of today is “dress mad,” and thinks of nothing but dress. But it is not so. The world of today remembers, O, so intensely, eagerly, lovingly remembers the world of yesterday! . . .

And with every vision there is scarcely a thought of fashion. It is faces that we recall, faces and character. What minds and hearts those were! What gentle manners made them lovely! And we forget every ill-mannered thing. Truly good manners are immortal robes. They are the fashion of the eternities.—Selected.