A CLEVER young girl, when asked by an acquaintance if she had “come out” yet, answered, “I didn’t come out. I just leaked out.” Doubtless this states the case, in a somewhat slangy manner, for a large number of young women who, gradually and without any set function to serve as introduction, take their places in society. Even for them, however, the year following the close of school duties marks a change in their relation to the social world, while the distinction is much emphasized in the case of young girls to whom the affairs of balls, receptions, teas and calls are a novelty. The date of a girl’s formal entrance into the larger world marks her individual recognition in that world. Before this time she has been a person without social responsibility, not accountable in the social sense. She has been considered in relation to her family, perhaps. Now she stands for herself. She is an object of some curiosity to the public, and the pleasures and duties to which she falls heir deserve some special mention.

The age at which a girl makes her formal appearance on the scene of society varies in different places and with varying conditions. It is rarely under eighteen, seldom over twenty-two, the first being the age at which a girl not desirous of extended education escapes, usually, from the schoolroom, the second being the average age of graduation for the college girl. A girl younger than eighteen is commonly too immature to be considered an interesting member of society, and a certain degree of absurdity attaches to the idea of introducing to the world a girl older than the age last mentioned.

The special function by which a young woman’s family signalizes her entrance to society varies little in different places. In many cities the custom is for the family of the dÉbutante and also for the friends of the family to give some entertainment in her honor. A dinner, a luncheon, a tea, a ball—any one of these festivities is a proper manner of announcing one’s interest in the new member of society and of emphasizing her arrival.

Everything should be done to facilitate for her an extension of acquaintance among those whom it is desirable she should know. It is said that a number of years ago when telephones were a luxury instead of being, as now, a necessity, in southern cities, the advent of the dÉbutante in a house meant always the addition of a name to the telephone directory. This is a somewhat extravagant and florid comment on the idea advanced. But it will serve as an illustration. Particularly is it desirable that the dÉbutante should become acquainted with the older members of the society in which she moves. She is now not only a part of the particular set to which her age assigns her; she is also a part of that larger society to which many ages belong. Her attitude on this question distinguishes her as well-bred or ill-bred. There is nothing more crass and crude than the young girl who has no eyes or ears for anybody out of the particular set of young people to which she belongs. It is the mark of the plebeian.

The clothes of the dÉbutante are a matter of importance and her wardrobe should be carefully planned. It is natural that she should wish to look pretty and, as youth itself makes for beauty, given good health and the usual number of features properly distributed, there is no reason why she should not so appear, if some discretion be exercised in the selection of her clothes. It does not lie within the province of this book to stipulate in detail concerning the outfit necessary for this happy result. The purpose of this paragraph is to insist on simplicity of style in the gowns chosen for a girl’s first year in society. Elaborate styles and heavy materials are opposed to the quality of a young girl’s beauty. They kill the loveliness which it is their object to bring out. All her clothes should be made without perceptible elaboration. In ball gowns she should be careful to select light, diaphanous materials,—materials that she can wear at no other time of life to such advantage. Of party gowns she should have a number. Three or four frocks of thin inexpensive materials are far better, if a choice be necessary, than one heavy silk or satin. They are more becoming and the number of them guarantees to their owner perfect freshness and daintiness of appearance. A soiled, bedraggled ball gown is a sorry sight on anybody. It looks particularly ill on a young person whose age entitles her to be compared to lilies and roses.

If the truth be told, despite the gaiety and the novelty of a girl’s first year in society, it is not usually so pleasant a year as her second. She has much to learn, and it is the exceptional girl who does not feel a little awkward in her new position. She is prone to exaggerate the importance of small social blunders, and trifles, light as air, occupy a disproportionate place in her horizon. A certain timidity, the result of her unaccustomed position, is characteristic of her. This timidity shows itself either in a stiffness that modifies considerably her proper charm, or in an unnatural bravado of manner, the reverse of pleasing. “Why are you so down on dÉbutantes?”—the writer of this chapter asked of an accomplished young society man. “Because they think it’s clever to be rude,” was the answer. The desire to be very apt, to be “on the spot” and “all there,” as the slang phrase has it,—this is often at the bottom of the apparent rudeness of the young girl. She does not care to show her newness. As a bride wishes it to seem that she has always been married, so a dÉbutante likes to present the appearance of thorough familiarity with the ground upon which she has just arrived.

Nothing will assist the dÉbutante to self-control and a surer footing so much as contact with people who are somewhat older than herself and who have gained a proper perspective. From them she will learn to be less self-conscious, and this means to be happier and more interesting.