22 April, 1924

Well, Helen G. came in to-day. Outré. Outrageously outré. She got the dress somewhere else of course. I did not inquire where. I did not want to know. I am sorry she knows. She may acquire another. 

It was in the Egyptian style, white and scarab-y with a low slung sash covered in blue and red glass beads. Oh dear! It was Egyptian. It made her look like a pyramid, pointy on top and as broad as the Nile on bottom. I called her 'Cleopatra' which she adored, of course. I did, however, say as delicately as possible that hips were not so much in style these days. She pouted, but in time I was able to show her that one can be Egyptian without being so very literal. It is á la mode right now, of course, but one needn't be covered in beetles and buzzards to make a point.

Jane B. brought in her daughter too. Sweet little moppet called Janine: no hope at all of ever being graceful, but with some chance perhaps of being dramatic when she is older. I am to worry about her début, though she hardly seemed old enough. Nonetheless, she does come out in a mere six months. White, of course, and some pink. What else? How dull. Why does a girl need to be boring to prove her innocence? Pink is démodé. I tried to explain, but pink it must be. Sigh.

Darling darling Sarah had dinner with me. She looked delicious in her green silk. We danced to I've Got a Song for Sale and drank lemonade and then Sarah took me back to her rooms where we had champagne, real champagne, and laughed over the photographs of her family she took when she went upstate to visit. Her older sister is hopeless, and her brother is too tall and too fair. He practically looks German! Naturally I cannot stand for it.

Tomorrow it's a film with Ruby T. who is always a delight, even if she does carry a flask of gin in her bag!