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Why Bob Your Hair?
Gorinne Griffith's advice to girls. Not a new department— just a suggestion.
By
ARABELLA BOONE
She has been said to resemble Lillian Gish, Constance Binney and Alice Joyce, but she is most like — Corinne Griffith.
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THERE is no doubt that this question is one that has puzzled scientists, mothers, flappers and other thinkers for centuries. Cleopatra may have considered it. The original Mona Lisa probably gave it more than a passmg thought. More than any other question it has occupied a foremost place in the feminine scheme of things. Just now it IS sharing interest with the Pickford-Fairbanks romance, the shimmy, and the slightly Einstein theory. And it has never been settled. We cannot settle it; we are not even going to talk about it— much. We have, we hope, too much common sense.
But the question is. simply, this (just among us girls) : shall we. or shall we not, bob our hair?
The answer, according to Corinne Griffith, is one, decided full and round "No!" shouted, one might say, in ringing accents. Corinne knows. Corinne. unappreciative possessor of a head of long, thick, dark, luxurious hair, snipped it with the scissors. Corinne is sorry.
"Well," you might say to yourself in defense of Corinne's act, "Constance Talmadge did it, and Natalie; and Viola Dana and Dorothy Gish and Anita Loos and goodness knows how many more." But suppose you cut your hair, had a full day
of delicious Russian freedom, and then found out that in j'our next picture you had to play a dignified debutante, daughter of a Southern Senator, who would never, under any consideration, have bobbed her hair. Corinne, true to character, had to push her new short hair, a great thick bundle of it, under a smooth, tightly-coiffed wig; suffering as a consequence headaches innumerable. She found that when she went to her favorite photographer to pose for new pictures he gave one look at her shorn locks and refused to pose her until she let them grow again. She found finally that bobbed hair, unless it is curly, has to undergo treatment in connection with a curling iron every morning: also that when one is a busy motion picture actress one hasn't time to undergo daily treatment, etc. With the result that our heroine began to cultivate low tight-fitting hats, and never to remove them, no matter where she went.
She became almost a recluse. When on rare occasions she ventured out to a theater she would either sit with her hat on during the performance, running the risk of being asked to remove it or herself and braving an awful fire of hot language from the unfortunates in the row behind; or she would wait until the lights went down, snatch off her hat. crouch down in her seat, and slap her hat back on when the lights went up.
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