AMERICANS IN OVERALLS.

DEAR CLOTHING PROTEST.

FROM OUR OWN CORRESPONDENT. NEW YORK, SUNDAY.

The movement to wear overalls and so to beat the high cost of clothing, which originated spontaneously in the southern States, has spread in the last few days throughout the entire country, and to-day several men and women, clad in protest uniform, were seen on Fifth Avenue and Broadway, New York. Members of the Cheese Club, an organisation of dramatic critics, Press agents, and theatrical editors, were the first to pledge themselves to wear plain garb, and within a few days other associations and societies are expected to parade in their blue raiment in order to advertise the movement and to secure its universal adoption. Overall Clubs are springing up everywhere, and are being supplemented by Gingham Apron Clubs for ladies. Even the boys and girls of the public schools are assisting by passing resolutions to wear nothing but khaki, of which there is a plentiful supply left over from the war, until prices come down.

Already the price of overalls has shot up about 300 per cent. owing to the great demand, but supporters of the movement who cannot get blue will wear their old clothes as long as they hang together. “Overalls over all” is the motto adopted by many of the leading universities of the country, and to be seen in a working man’s uniform is regarded as an honour. The supporters of the movement not only pledge themselves to wear overalls, but to buy as little as possible in the way of overcoats, boots, hats, underwear, &c. With the summer months approaching, Americans will welcome overalls, not only for their comparative cheapness, but for their coolness. Tailors and clothing merchants are protesting vigorously that they are making only fair profits, but the average man argues that the cost of clothes here has risen out of proportion to any other article, a very cheap suit costing £15, and a more expensive one £25, so that people with modest means find it almost impossible to clothe themselves or their families properly. Extraordinary enthusiasm with which Americans everywhere are adopting the plan of wearing overalls in an effort to force clothiers to reduce prices is afforded by the startling revelation of popular discontent over the present high cost of living, ranging from shoes to sugar. It is less than a week since the Overall Club started in a Southern State was first brought to the general public’s attention, and to-day there is not a town, city, or village without its club. In schools, colleges, and universities blue denim is regarded as a badge of honour, and in New York and other large American cities the crowded thoroughfares already have a fair sprinkling of men and women clad in the uniform of the mechanic.

Newspapers everywhere are urging the general adoption of the plan to defeat profiteers as opposed to waiting upon the Department of Justice to obtain convictions and gaol sentences for wholesalers and retailers who have so flagrantly established artificial prices. Undoubtedly the protests of the tailors merely add fuel to the flames. They realise more than anyone that once the custom is firmly established and dearer blue denim becomes inconspicuous their profits will rapidly be wiped out and bankruptcy become an actuality. To help the movement amongst ladies editorials declare nothing is so becoming to the fair sex as the old-fashioned gingham gown. Simultaneously with the overalls movement, Americans are also developing Old Clothes and Patched Clothes Associations. At the time of cabling they are parading in all parts of the country, and high-priced tailors are trembling with apprehension as to their future. They realise that fashion sways most people, and they see already that the fashion for the next few weeks, unless the cost be reduced, will be garments costing 20s, not £20. In Fifth Avenue to-day I noticed well-known judges, actors, doctors, and other professional men garbed in dungaree trousers and jacket, both garments being fairly well cut. They were applauded as they passed in the street.