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Photo by Seely
Leatrice Joy says she wears her baby's pearls for the child's own good.
SUMMER is here, all right, and all the boys and girls who were born in July and August are having their horoscopes read and their fortunes forecast for the coming year. With everybody telling the real date of his or her birth, it goes without saying that things are pretty well upset in Hollywood.
Robert Vignola, the director, and Grace Gordon, the little comedienne, are both so good at telling fortunes that they ought to charge for it. At the summer night parties, all the men flock around Grace, and all the girls around Bob, counting children on their little fingers and money on their wrists. This fortune telling is a great indoor sport for warm evenings and is the best way in the world to be insulting — in case you want to be insulting— without hurting any one's feelings. To even your favorite enemy, you can say, "You are selfish and self-centered, dear," and she can't do a thing, because you can grab her palm and point out her selfish and self-centered
The Sketch
Intimate impressions of some of the per sketched by a girl who has long mingled
By Dorothy
lines, which, nine cases out of ten, will be quite overdeveloped.
Not every one has his fortune told at the parties, of course. Some band together to drink hopefully of whatever is served — and to talk about the other guests.
Bess Meredyth, Warners' indefatigable scenarist, and quite the gayest and most delightful hostess in Hollywood, gave another party that was unusually successful, as only friends seemed to be present, judging from the way everybody was saying the loveliest things about everybody else. If it hadn't been a party, it could have been a club.
All the girls broke down over Leatrice Joy's gown, which was the prettiest white dinner dress of the season — so far. It was one of those expensively simple affairs, with satin bows peeking through the lace trimming. Her only ornaments were orchids — a whole raft of them afloat on her shoulder — and a string of tiny seed pearls. It developed later that the pearls belonged to Baby Leatrice. When somebody kidded big Leatrice about robbing little Leatrice, who isn't old enough to protect her rights, she insisted it was for the baby's good. "They say pearls die if you don't wear them.
I don't want my baby wearing dead pearls," laughed Leatrice.
Lilyan Tashman was in pink, in a gown featuring the new scarf effect.
Claire Windsor wore the very newest in dinner gowns, as usual — long, rather tight sleeves. Also a summer wrap, elaborately trimmed in pale ostrich.
I saw Mrs. Jack Mulhall — who is stunning in anything — looking particularly well in black lace and pink georgette. Kathleen Key wore black and silver, and a bright shawl and an enormous hat, while Louise Fazenda looked like a miniature, in crinkly, bouffant taffeta. Mae Busch was in beaded white, and Mildred Davis Lloyd wore a
Mildred Davis Lloyd, though she now has all the money she can spend, still loves bargain hunting.