As I went strolling down The Block,
   Mid marocain and crepe de chine,
My eye lit on a lovely frock --
   A most enchanting shade of green.
A bouffant skirt (they're all the rage),
   A deep lace yoke caught at one side,
With plain revers of deepest sage
   Had beige boleros, loosely tied.

Tight-fitting sleeves, piped with cerise,
   Were appliqued with motifs rare;
A tulle scarf, falling to the knees,
   Turned back and left one shoulder bare. . . 
They say a most delicious maid
   Inhabited this dream of bliss.
But I'd not time, I am afraid,
            To notice this.

"Den"
Herald, 22 February 1929, p6