One Frog Paddled

Gilbert Adrian, who was Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer's head dressmaker for 15 years and now has become simply Adrian, opened his divine new pink and blue couturier's salon in Beverly Hills last week at about the time that fighting men of the United Nations were raiding Dieppe.

In the elegant programs given his patrons he had inserted a card bearing his wartime views: "We feel privileged at this vital time in our world's history to present a collection of clothes carefully attuned to Government Order L-85. Here, briefly, are the highlights of this Government ruling: No bias or dolman sleeves. No woolen evening wraps. No woolen evening dresses. A maximum of 144-inch sweep for evening dresses. No suit jacket over 25 inches long. No cuffs on suits. No patch pockets. No belt over two inches wide. No overskirts."

Where's the U.S.O.? The show was a great success. Lady Mendl brought her Pekingese. Barbara Hutton Mdivani Haugwitz-Reventlow Leach (Mrs. Cary Grant) ordered some 20 little numbers put aside. Margaret Sullavan, Joan Fontaine, Carole Landis clapped delighted hands with the lesser Hollywood lights and the wealthy housewives from Beverly Hills and Pasadena as Adrian, himself costumed in a two-piece creation of flannel with cuffed trousers and a washable blue tie, displayed his confections.

One creation named "Trim Little Suit" brought ecstatic applause as the models began parading across the pink carpet, posturing on a raised dais. Adrian's price: $225. Another, "It's Not True" ($210) had a long black skirt and a transparent lace front. "Black Glamour" ($395) was a study in black seductiveness for evening. Adrian showed 60 of his creations: "Suit with Red Excitement," "Black Dress with Two Roses," "Dinner with a Dash of Gold," "Commando," "For a Visit to the Camp," "When He's Home," "Peace and Quiet," "Where's the U.S.O.?"

Dream. Year ago Adrian decided it was time to make his dream come true. He had saved a lot of money and he married ex-Star Janet Gaynor (who people say is worth $4,000,000). He would have the most beautiful custom salon in the country. By September he had signed a ten-year lease for the Victor Hugo, once a fine restaurant,* then fancy nightclub, and planned expensive alterations. But when war came, his expenses, for a temporary shop on Beverly Drive, a factory in downtown Los Angeles, and Press Agent Russell Birdwell, were about $3,500 a week. In January Adrian's feet grew cold: he said he just didn't know what to do. Maybe he would chuck the whole business. He was despondent.

But his landlord held him to his lease by telling him a story: Two little frogs fell into a churn full of cream. One swam around, got tired and decided he might as well drown. The other kept on swimming until he felt an island forming under him --an island of butter formed by his paddling. "Now," said the landlord, "do you want to be the little frog that gave up easily or will you be the one to keep on paddling and finally win out?" Adrian thought he would paddle.

The shop Adrian opened last week is done in two colors, a greyish blue-green and a greyish shell pink. Adrian's office is in blue-green, even the radio and cigaret stand. In the custom room, next to his office, the drapes are hand-woven of capeskin, suede and gold metallic strands, and hang from ceiling to floor. In the retail room the drapes also stretch from ceiling to floor, but here they are of cheap cotton duck.

* In earlier Hollywood days, stars gathered at the Victor Hugo at 12:10 p.m. every day for the house specialty: sand-dabs.

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