1936 On the Continent

by the febrile rhythm of booms and crises. Of course, as a section of the middle class they still exist, and in France they are even more numerous than elsewhere, but the girls of this class do not become
midinettes
but mannequins, and that is something quite different.
Mimi’s Granddaughter
    The type of girl who to-day takes the place of Murger’s “Mimi” is no importation from America but a logical product of our age—were charming, but cold, calculating, a careerist; her femininity, her girlish sweetness, are no longer an end in themselves but only a means to an end.
    To return to our muttons after this necessary digression, this change is particularly evident in the establishments upon which the world fame of Parisian night life was founded, the so-called
bals
. The famous
bal
in the Moulin de la Galette and, if we ignore the programme of turns, also at the Moulin Rouge and the Tabarin, was formerly completely dominated by fascinating young girls. To-day these establishments, with the old, glorious names, are rather colourless, and the youth who goes to them in the childish hope of picking up a girl friend for himself, goes empty away. The last great and really popular
bat
, the Bal Ballier in the Quartier Latin, closed its doors last year for ever.
    Nevertheless, there still are a number of little Bal-Musettes with a genuine “local colour,” where you dance to the traditional accordeon, a very sentimental and very squeaky instrument, paying for every dance. When a dance isover the attendants enter the hall roaring
Envoyez
or
A vos poches
, and not until you have paid up are you allowed to go on dancing.
    At other places dancing is included in the price of refreshments. The most colourful and temperamental among these Bal-Musettes will be found in the Rue de Lappe (near the Bastille), and in the other poor districts round the Place d’Italie, the Père Lachaise, and also in the Rue de la Huchette, behind the Place St. Michel; but the Rue de Lappe, establishments are the best.
    But, as we have said, you must not expect to come upon apache romance at these genuine popular amusement places. The public is composed of working men, small shopkeepers, and girl shop assistants on the one hand, and prostitutes and semi-prostitutes with their male friends or hangers-on.
Bal-Musettes
    Outwardly this mixture gives an impression of homogeneity, and the foreigner will hardly be able to distinguish between the shady portion and the respectable, hardworking but poor young people. However, it is worth while taking a close look at this strange world; these establishments are not dangerous to the foreigner unless he behaves in a stupid, provoking manner. You can dance with any girl present who accepts your invitation, you may even make love to her in a light-hearted but charming manner; but if you are tactless she will turn her back on you, and if you should become insistent you may be decorated by the young swains present with a lovely black eye.
    The girls at these Bal-Musettes are, as we have said, no longer of the legendary
midinette
type, but the wonderful charm of the genuine Parisienne has not been lost in spite of all the changes and exigencies of the times. They still possess the same unrestrained, boisterous drollery when in high spirits, the same tender, lightly come-hither expression as they look into the eyes of a partner with whom they are in love, the same natural grace in their style of dancing, with the wonderful short hip movement and the immobility of the shoulders throughout; the same innocent knackof saying the most awful things which they do not mean in the least.
    The corresponding male youth is less pleasant, and they make you wonder, as frequently happens, in Paris, how such charming femininity can exist side by side with such unpleasant types of men.
    The negro
bal
in the Rue Blomet is in a class of its own. Up till a few years ago it was only frequented by negroes and other coloured people, who revelled there in a racial talent for dancing bordering on frenzy. But then the place was “discovered” and now, on ball days, the Rue Blomet is blocked with cars and white visitors, and has become a rather snobbish affair. Nevertheless, it is worth a visit.
    So much for balls. For the sake of completeness, however, we may mention some of the great representative affairs that occur periodically, such as the Bal des Petits Lits Blancs, which is held once a year and is attended by Paris society, from the