Constance Binney — The Binney Blues Cure (1920) 🇺🇸
“Blues,” said Constance Binney to me over the pale-green teacup, “are the easiest things in the world to lose, provided one has dollars in her purse and good shops close at hand,” and she smiled the Binney smile, quite confirming her statement.
by Edna S. Michaels
Now, of course, motion picture stars, just like stage stars, know how to dress. That is just as much a part of their profession and has been just as large a factor in their success as their charm and ability. Recognizing this, it was thought a good idea for the stars to pass on their opinions regarding clothes. The public would be interested and, if you are Constance Binney’s type, it will undoubtedly prove helpful to know just what she wears to best advantage and just what she thinks.
We had been shopping and had dropped into one of the numerous tea-rooms nestled in the side street of the shopping section. We were discussing the subject of clothes — the subject ever dearest to every woman’s heart. And, of course, it was the subject I wanted her to discuss.
Being a woman, very young and very human, Constance Binney is, naturally, very fond of pretty clothes. But with clothes, as with every other conceivable thing, Miss Binney has Very decided opinions. “I don’t believe in following blindly the dictates of fashion,” she said, as she scratched “dance frock and leather coat” from her shopping list. “I think a woman ought to wear the clothes that are becoming — not the kind she sees in the shop windows. She should study her own style. Of course, it’s all right to adhere to those points of fashion which become you, but when a woman with scrawny arms wears short sleeves just because they are fashionable — well, then — I have nothing to say.”
In the purchase of both the coat and the dance frock she had been most discriminating, deciding that a certain style wouldn’t do in some cases without having even tried it on — she knew that which was suited to instinctively, it seemed. I wondered just what wouldn’t look we’d on the charming Miss Binney. As if in answer to my unspoken question she went on, “For instance, I am sure that I am smarter in a one-piece gown and a big, coat than I am in tailored suits and shirt waists, tho they certainly suit some types.
“It is terrible,” she continued with a woeful expression, “when a perfectly nice looking woman will do all sorts of sinful things to herself just because she feels she must obey Fashion’s latest decree. Haven’t you seen numbers of those very corpulent women on the Avenue with ridiculous short skirts showing unbeautiful limbs and with just loads of drapery over their enormous hips? Oh, I think it’s terrible,” with a helpless little smile. “Correctly dressed, even a large woman can be smart, you know.”
It seemed quite fitting that Constance should talk about fashions, for in her Realart productions and in all her work on the stage she has been known as a smartly dressed girl. Everyone wants her to pose in his fashions — all the big shops seek her out — but never will she allow Dame Fashion’s decree to make her ridiculous.
Suddenly gripping my arm she said in a low tense voice, looking straight at a woman sitting opposite us: “Now, look at that woman. She’s dressed in perfect taste — all except the egg-shaped neck of her dress. Her shoulder-bones stand out and glare at you. If she only had a square neck she would look a thousand times better. That’s just it! We think that some people are just naturally well dressed, that every thing they put on looks well and is becoming, but I don’t believe that is ever the case. To be well dressed you must give every minute detail of your wardrobe thought and care. One little slip may spoil the general appearance of otherwise well chosen clothes. It really is a study, you know,” she went on, growing enthusiastic as girls will when frills and furbelows come in for their share of the talk, “and with all the beautiful things the shops are offering it is a fascinating study too. With us of the stage and screen it is, of course, a vitally necessary study, but I think it is the duty of every woman, no matter what her walk in life — to look her honest-to-goodness best, I mean. One of the very best ways is to study a really well-dressed woman of her own type on or off the stage or screen. But let her be sure of the type. Let a blonde choose a blonde, a brunette a brunette. Just suppose a dark girl followed my choice of colors. Suppose a Junoesque woman tried to imitate Mary Pickford or a tiny one followed in the footsteps of Dorothy Dalton!”
In the moments of silence which followed I thought of how very lovely she was and with what perfect taste she was dressed. Her great big grey-blue eyes were made bluer by the reflection of some exquisite blue chenille embroidery around the neck of her simple blue tricotine frock. Her hat of soft blue duvetyne was in perfect accord and while I could not see her feet I felt sure they were well shod. There was no doubt that Constance Binney was as well dressed away from the screen — off the stage — as any one could wish.
“Look. Isn’t that a perfectly charming hat!” she suddenly said, nodding towards a woman who had just come in.
“U-m-m,” I answered, not wishing to waste any time in which this practical young person before me might discuss clothes.
“Hats,” echoed diminutive Constance, “I just love them. I have oodles of them — tried and true old ones of the hack and sport variety, good for rainy days and country wear; and then a lot of lovely new ones to go with every frock and wrap I own and a few especially lovely ones besides to ‘chase them blues.’ Some of them are blue hats too.” Of course, I thought. Lovely woman is never so lovely as when a hat matches her eyes.
“Does shopping always chase away your blues?” I asked.
“Not always,” she answered, toying with her club sandwich. “Of course it is just getting away from myself that cures them actually I suppose — blues generally come from too much introspection and thoughts too self-centered, don’t they?” and the depths of her blue eyes and her serious mien told me rather eloquently that Miss Binney has other thoughts beside clothes. She has thought out problems one feels sure — thought them out wisely and well.
“Altogether, however,” she went on, shaking off the serious mood, “I know of nothing more effective for cheering up any woman’s drooping spirits than a bit of new clothing. It may be a new hat, one of the adorable new collars or just a bit of bright ribbon — anything that’s pretty and cheery, but it will make you feel a great deal smarter and better dressed. I know that whenever my spirits are low, I go out and buy something to wear. You forget all about having been depressed in the search for your bit of finery and in the pleasure of wearing it.”
And so — this is the cure of Constance Binney for the blues which have been the craze of the past musical season; there have been songs about them and one million and one cures prescribed for them —
“Chase them blues!”
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Being a woman, very young and very human, Constance Binney is naturally very fond of pretty clothes. But with clothes as with every other conceivable thing, Miss Binney has very decided opinions.
Above, in a dance frock of Nile green taffeta with over-flounces of various shades of green and trimming of pale pink rosebuds.
Below, in a motor coat of black leather with a beaver collar and a close fitting hat of black duvetyn and a facing of a delicate tan.
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Collection: Motion Picture Magazine, March 1920
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Constance Binney
Only recently has the silversheet reflected the delightful image of the petite Constance, a recruit from the legitimate stage. With her first Realart picture, Erstwhile Susan, she made a place for herself in the ranks of the silent host and we hope she will remain indefinitely.
Photo by: Alfred Cheney Johnston (1885–1971)
Collection: Motion Picture Magazine, July 1920