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Updated: May 24, 2025
She was Barnriff's leading and only modiste. The boy at her side continued his amusement at the puppy's expense. He held it in his two hands and squeezed its little body until the poor creature gasped and retched. Then he swung it to and fro by its diminutive tail. Then he threw it up in the air, making it turn a somersault, and catching it again clumsily.
She must impersonate her. It was a dangerous piece of work, but it was not impossible. She had only to pass the inspectors. The guards inside were her friends. On Thursday night at eight o'clock a carriage drew up at the little red brick house, on whose door flashed the brass plate sign: ELIZABETH GARLAND, MODISTE She had made an appointment with Mrs.
In commercial aptitude she resembled the typical Frenchwoman. Although he was her father, Ezra Brunt had the wit to recognise her talents, and he always listened to her suggestions, which, however, sometimes startled him. One of them was that he should import into the Five Towns a modiste from Paris, offering a salary of two hundred a year. The old provincial stood aghast.
Terror inspired by the perils of the deep was only surpassed by intense grief excited by her compulsory banishment to a land where, she imagined, the invading feet of modiste and mantua-maker had not trodden out all resemblance to the original Eden; a land where the women probably attired themselves with a leaning to antediluvian simplicity, or in accordance with strong-minded proclivities, and the men were, doubtless, too much engrossed by politics and business to be capable of appreciating the most elaborate toilet that could be fashioned to captivate their eyes; a land, in short, where taste was yet unborn, and where it was ignorantly believed that the chief object of apparel was to perform, on a more extensive scale, the use of primitive fig-leaves and furs.
He walked around her, gently touching the material of the gown, adjusting its folds with the tips of his fingers, like a man that knows a woman's toilet as the modiste knows it, having all his life employed his artist's taste and his athlete's muscles in depicting with slender brush changing and delicate fashions, in revealing feminine grace enclosed within a prison of velvet and silk, or hidden by snowy laces.
Fancy "Modiste," and "Perruquier," as they will have the French terms spelt, in the letters sacred to Euripides and Xenophon. It seemed like walking in a dream!
The reply to this answer is that we have hardly reached a degree of truth to life which renders it pertinent and probably never will. Certainly there might be a noticeable fault if all the dresses of ladies of different families obviously showed the design and facture of one modiste. This could easily be avoided without prejudice to the point of harmony in colour and congruity of line.
A medley of hoofs, harness and wheels broke in and she was away to a new world and a new life. The brave little figure bowed suddenly, and the roses and the tulle, the precious creation of the Martinsburg modiste, were ruthlessly crushed against the sleek bulk of the man who had never had a real idea.
This is not only simple in its form, in its lines; it is severe. To go into the shop of a European modiste is almost to put one's self into a truthful and candid frame of mind. Those leave frivolous ideas behind who enter here. The 'modiste' will tell the philosopher that it is now the fashion to be severe; in a word, it is 'fesch'. Nothing can go beyond that.
Everywhere, the girl who desires to learn as modiste, and who, in the day when I had learned, became one of the house that she served, and, if talent were there, could rise and in time be mistress herself, with a name that had fame even, that girl must now attempt the great shop and bury her talent in always the same thing.
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