Pretty Roumanian women--Adventitious aids to beauty--Paris
toilets--Childish extravagances--Men with London tailors--A dandy
in blue boots--Some quaint superstitions--Warding off the evil
eye--The efficacy of hot coals and a cup of water--The Marțisoara,
or March token--A wife’s indiscretion punished: a story of poetic
justice--The Marțisoara as a temperamental barometer.
Roumanian ladies are on the whole pretty, and some are _very_ pretty.
They have always good hair and teeth and small feet. Their figures are
very good, and if one _should_ happen to have a bad one, it is easily
set right by the _corsetière_. The only thing that is not quite up to
the mark is the complexion, and this is the reason why there is such
a brisk demand for powder and paint. Dyeing the hair is also greatly
in vogue, even with young people, and it is very amusing to note the
change in a person’s appearance when such dyes have first been used.
I knew two sisters, daughters of Princess ---- (who always insisted
upon her title) who were very pretty girls with dark brown hair.
Evidently they were discontented with it, as on meeting them one day
I noticed, to my utter amazement, that their hair was golden. I was
so taken aback that I could not at once congratulate them on their
appearance, although they evidently expected me to do so. On seeing my
confusion they were at great pains to explain that their hair was _not_
dyed; they had only used oxygen on it. As the result was the same,
however, it did not seem to me to matter what they called the process.
Roumanians know how to dress, the ladies especially, and as every
article of the toilet comes from Paris, their taste is sure to be
guided aright. They do not mind what they spend on dress, the simplest
walking costume in pre-war times costing £8, 10s., simple hats anything
from £4 upwards, so one may imagine how much may be spent on more
elaborate toilets. These prices are not by any means confined to the
wealthiest classes of society--even moderately well-to-do people will
spend enormous sums on clothes. They seemed to me like overgrown
children in many cases; as long as they had money to spend, it had to
be spent.
I particularly remember a case in point. A young man of Bucarest
inherited a considerable sum of money. At once he invested in a smart
carriage and a really fine pair of horses. He was seen driving in great
style to the Chaussée every afternoon, and I was told that it was a
sight to see his dressing room hung round with suits of clothes of
every prevailing fashion, and under each suit a pair of boots or shoes
ready to hand.
This joyous life went on for a time, till the money began to get scarce
(as it has an awkward habit of doing), and the young man had to sell
his carriage and fine horses. He was then seen taking his daily airing
in a _birja_, _i.e._ hired carriage (no Roumanian walks unless he is
absolutely obliged), and after some months of that he was reduced to
riding in the tram! His fall was gradual, but the lowest depth was
reached at last.
The men of Roumania are not good-looking as a rule. They are generally
short in stature with very dark complexions and conspicuously
moustached. Moustaches used to be worn with turned-up ends in imitation
of the Kaiser, but as he is no longer looked on with any favour this
fashion has been abandoned. The men who are rich enough to do so, order
their clothes in London, or in Paris. As a rule only those who really
cannot afford to do otherwise get their clothes in their own country.
The boots that one buys in Roumania are usually of a very light make,
both for winter and summer. Ladies wear black, brown, or grey, but
I have never seen them with other colours, as I have seen men. My
astonishment was great one day when I met a man wearing a pair of light
blue boots. One never requires strong boots in Roumania, as in winter
snow-boots are worn over the others, and removed on entering the house.
Boots were always expensive in Bucarest, a decent pair costing from 25
francs (£1) upwards; but really smart people paid 75 and 80 francs a
pair.
Ladies practically always have their corsets, boots, and gloves made
for them. It is very seldom indeed that they buy any of those articles
ready made.
We must always remember, in considering the Roumanian people, that
their civilisation is far more suggestive of the East than of the West.
In our eyes some of their customs are very peculiar, to say the least
of it. Even the upper classes are extremely superstitious.
No one ever dreams of starting on a journey or commencing any
particular work on a Tuesday. It is considered a very unlucky day.
Dreams are gravely related and certain conclusions are drawn from them,
based, of course, on past experience, either of the raconteur or of
some friend.
Little children wear coloured ribbons in order to keep off the “evil
eye.” A boy wears red and a little girl blue. It is rather a convenient
custom, as one knows at once the sex of the child, and is not under the
necessity of alluding to an infant as “it.”
On no account must one admire or praise a child in the hearing of its
parents. Such a proceeding is looked upon as directly challenging the
operations of the “evil eye.” I shall never forget an incident which
occurred some years ago. I had called upon Madame ----, and we were
quietly drinking tea together in the English manner, a compliment to
me, when her husband rushed in with their little boy, in a state of the
greatest excitement. He explained that they had been walking on the
Calea Victorie when they met a mutual friend of ours, an Englishman,
who had not been long in Bucarest. This gentleman had unluckily
expressed his admiration of the handsome boy; hence the trouble. M.
---- rang the bell violently and gave an order to the servant, who
without delay brought in a cup of cold water on a tray, whilst she
carried in the other hand a small shovel containing three live coals
from the kitchen fire. With great anxiety and solicitude, the perturbed
father dropped the three pieces of charcoal into the cup. They sizzled
a little and--floated. Had they sunk the direst misfortunes would
have been presaged. A teaspoonful of the water was then given to the
child, his forehead, the palms of his hands, and the soles of his feet
were moistened with it, and three paternosters having been said, all
was well. The relieved father turned to me with many apologies for his
excited entrance, “But you know,” he explained, “the matter was of the
very greatest importance, and he is our only child.”
It is the universal feminine custom in Roumania to wear a “Marțisoara”
during the month of March. This is an ornament primarily intended for
young girls, and all kinds of them are worn, from simple ones of glass
or painted wood to costly trinkets of silver or gold ornamented with
precious stones. They are therefore of all prices. But whatever the
cost may be, the practice of tying each one with fancy cord, coloured
red and white, is universal, these two colours being symbolical of
the ideal complexion of a young girl. The ornaments are usually worn
tied round the wrist, with the red and white tassels bobbing about
with every movement. At the end of March the Marțisoara is taken off,
the ornament carefully preserved, and the cords hung out on a bush in
order that the dew of heaven may besprinkle them. The idea is that the
Marțisoara will be efficacious in giving the wearer cheeks of the much
coveted colouring.
The custom of presenting Marțisoara in the month of March is so
universal, that not only do the youthful members of the male community
take advantage of it in presenting to an admired fair one a gift that
at any other time might be deemed an impertinence, but also older men
frequently make use of the occasion to give presents in quarters where
they have no right to bestow them. An amusing instance of the latter
kind of indiscretion occurred in Bucarest some years ago, and became
very literally the talk of the town.
Madame M., a well-known society beauty, had a husband who was neither
rich nor generous. A Marțisoara displayed in the window of Resch the
jeweller attracted her attention and she ardently desired to possess
it. It was a beautifully fashioned trinket of gold, studded with lovely
sapphires. Madame M. pointed it out to her husband, who, however,
absolutely refused to even inquire the price, as it was sure to be
very great. Now the lady had a _bon ami_, a very wealthy man, and when
he heard of the difficulty he begged her to accept the Marțisoara as
a gift from him. She declared that this would be impossible, as her
husband’s suspicions would at once be aroused. The pair, however, had a
little talk over the matter and hit upon a very ingenious plan.
M. Bon Ami called upon Resch and made a certain arrangement with him.
The price of the ornament was 2000 francs, so he paid half of that sum
to Resch on the understanding that if M. M. called to inquire about it
he should let him have it for 1000 francs. Armed with this knowledge,
Madame M. returned to the charge, and at length induced her husband to
promise that if the Marțisoara could be obtained for 1200 francs he
would buy it. The good man was a fair judge of precious stones, and
thought it was safe to make the offer, as it would never be considered.
The negotiation must have been an interesting one. It was said that
Resch acted very discreetly, and after naming a price which was
calculated not to arouse suspicion, he suffered himself to be beaten
down to 1000 francs.
There was no more triumphant man in Bucarest that March afternoon
than M. M. On his way home to delight his wife he could not refrain
from dropping in at the Club to brag about his cleverness. He had
half a dozen men for an audience, and they were not a bit bored, for
this was a genuine and surprising bargain. All admired the Marțisoara
tremendously. Several very much wanted to obtain possession of it, and
it was here that the complications started. M. M. at first kept his
wife, and the great pleasure he was in a position to afford her, before
his mind, but when one of the party offered him 500 francs in advance
of the purchase money, his cupidity was aroused and the Marțisoara
changed hands.
M. M., however, proceeded homeward without misgivings. His wife was a
sensible woman, and a clear gain of 500 francs would surely console
her for any little disappointment about the trinket. He told his
wonderful story with glee, and madame promptly went into hysterics.
The poor husband could only ring the bell, and, whilst restoratives
were being applied, reflect helplessly that there is no possibility of
understanding the ways of woman.
If anyone feels curious as to how the story gained publicity, I can
only say that my long residence in the country taught me, among other
things, that there are no secrets in Bucarest.
There is another custom connected with the first nine days in the month
of March. Every young girl chooses one of these days as her special
day, and whatever the weather may be on that day, it is supposed
to show her character--rainy weather shows that she is inclined to
weep very readily; dull weather, that she looks at the gloomy side;
alternate sunshine and rain, that she is changeable, and so forth.
These nine days are called “Alte Baba” (old women), while the nine
following are reserved for the men-folk under the same conditions. It
used to be quite exciting to watch the weather conditions on special
days, and very amusing when they tallied (as was often the case) with
the character of a person who had chosen them.