Glad Hatter

LILLY DACHE'S GLAMOUR BOOK (315 pp.)--Lippincoff ($3.95).

A stenographer suffering from "droopy bosom" should never never try to conceal the fact by falling into the posture known as "secretarial slump." The droopy area must instead be frankly and firmly put to rights, not only by "corrective exercises" at home but "on-the-job grooming" during office hours. Neglected or ignored, it will all result in "dowager's hump" as a matter of course, and while this more serious condition is not incorrigible, it is certainly in a graver category than mere slump. Indeed, the whole of Glamour Expert Lilly Dache's book is a warning to women readers not to let a single waking minute tick by without giving close attention to such handicaps and correctives as (to quote from the index): "Bulging eyes, changing appearance of," "Slanting boards, relaxing on," "Forearms, hair on," "Widow, making friends and having fun" and "Scurvy, disease of sailors." The point of going to so much trouble is also, as even the scurviest sailor will suspect, to be found in the index, under the heading: "Husband: see also men."

Perfume of Exhaust Fumes. Frenchbred Lilly was "just eighteen when I stood (for the first time) at the corner of 34th Street and Broadway" and "breathed in the perfume of exhaust fumes . . . sweeter to me than the headiest essences of the flower fields of France." Few of the natives shared this preference for exhaust fumes, so Lilly was obliged to go to work cultivating the headier essences, and is now a rich, renowned and happily married hatter--"Lilly Dache from 9 to 5 and Mrs. [Jean] Despres from 5 to 9." Both personalities have contributed to this book, e.g., the chapter on hats is by Lilly, the pages on how to force a husband to wear a pink tuxedo is by the Mrs.

Lilly kicks off with a brisk survey of the U.S. scene today--"truly a golden age for women"--and then goes straight to work on how to get the mining done. "First take off all your clothes and stand in front of a full-length mirror and look at yourself. Be brave, for this is going to be a shock." It is likely to be more than that--in view of the dreadful revelation of "bulges in the wrong places." a ghastly "sag" in the abdomen, the flesh "flabby" overall, and blown up bolsterwise into "a roll around the midriff," the "splotchy, sallow" skin, the "dull, faded, gray, stringy" hair, the "red-rimmed, bloodshot, dark-circled" eyes, the "rough, red, chapped" hands. Questions come flooding to the smeared lips: "Do you need a deodorant?" "Do you use meaningless ejaculations like 'Oh, boy!'" "Do you have something to offer . . .?"

Buttress the Sags. Assuming that no is the answer to this last question, Lilly devotes most of the rest of Glamour Book to seeing what can be salvaged from the poor wreck.

Aided by "king-size" washcloths, spinach diets, "pedicure tools" and "Queen Bee Cream," she reduces the large, wholesome hips to mere skin and bone, prunes away the buxom midriff, buttresses the sags and fills the open pores. What's left is vigorously sprayed from head to toe with enchanting "fragrances" and left to its own devices, e.g., "If you have an old coffee grinder, fill it with ivy." Only the most hardened men ("see also husbands") could get through this book without "hands, shaking from nervousness."

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