“Society and Woman’s World”
Whether “swallowtails” shall
supersede outing shirts is the burning question that is dividing the summer
residents of Topanga canyon into opposing factions of growing dimensions. Since
California was admitted to the Union, and even before that date, weekly dances
have been a feature of canyon existence. The gatherings took place at some
rancher's home, and dull care was thrown to the winds, also a burdensome coat,
If the weather was warm, and lads and lassies tripped the light fantastic to
the tuneful music of a guitar in the hands of a descendant of the Spanish conquistadores,
without further thought.
Now all this bids fair to change.
Early this week a dance was held at the home of Jack Woods on the Escondido
ranch. Invitations were issued to friends and neighbors, among whom were Mrs.
Alice McAllister and her daughter, Miss Ruth; H. P. Schofield of "Condor's
Rest;" Charles Walters, postmaster of Topanga; W. T. Gibbons, a former
trustee of Ocean Park; Senor and Senora G. Trujillo and their son, of the “Eagles’
Aerie”; H. R. Gage, of Ocean Park; various members of the artists’ colony
scattered along the picturesque gorge, and E. Templer Allen, overseer of the
woodland domain. Guests from the vicinity of "Boot Rock,” a former
rendezvous of Vasquez, the notorious highwayman and bandit, journeyed by
moonlight to participate in the function. So likewise did others from the
"Y-U” bend and from “Four Oaks,” which is the joint property of Col. T. J.
Cochrane, governor of the Soldiers’ Home; Surgeon McNary, official physician of
the institution; Thomas H. James, city engineer of Santa Monica, and Dr. H. E.
Hasse, a retired man of medicine.
To the amazement of many, and the
awe of a few, Mr. Allen, who is a former British officer, appeared costumed in
a regulation “swallowtail” evening suit. According to one of those present, the
sight almost created a panic. Certain it is that many of the ranchers and
campers felt a deal of embarrassment at the contrast presented by their own
modest apparel. At the close of the evening the epoch-marking event became the
subject of liberal discussion. A number of the guests announced their intention
of abandoning the weekly soirees completely. Others declared their independence
of convention, and stoutly asserted their rights to dance in whatever clothing
they pleased.
Meanwhile, Templer Allen,
cool and collected amid the tempest he had unwittingly created, suavely
remarked to his nearest friends that the time had come to put a little more
tone into the weekly social gatherings, to which many nods of approval gave
endorsement.
