Wives and daughters of Boston's more adept coupon clippers and a smattering of almost shamefaced Harvardmen gathered amidst the lime-colored elegance of the Copley Plaza Oval Room early this week to partake of creamed chicken and the spinach that if fashion. In an effort to obtain a masculine insight on feminine fashions the management successively selected, wined, dined, and embarrassed an all-male jury.

First of the rather abashed group of judges to arrive was Mr. Lawrence Dame, art critic of the Boston Herald and by the time the second member of the panel, an editor of the CRIMSON, had been led to the table, Mr. Dane was adequately ensconced behind a glass of dry sherry and an Avocado salad. The Crimeditor ordered "some Scotch, never mind the food."

"It is refreshing to see the poise these models have," was the assertion of white-haired Joseph Champagne, Beacon Hill dancing instructor and a sort of unhurried Arthur Murray, as he sat down to become the third male in the distaff sea. A tardy fourth, orchestra leader Vaughn Monroe added a touch of glamour as he assumed his place with "Yeah, but they should put price tags on the dresses. They did at the one I judged at the Stork Club."

The complete interest of the judges and most of the afternoon was consumed in a parade of some thirty costumes of evening and afternoon wear and one pair of thoroughly non-utilitarian pajamas that covered neither category.

First of the fashions to be shown, "one of the neatest necklines in years," came out with a request for the judges to take a second glance. None of them ever finished the first. "Lovely" breathed Mr. Champagne. "Yoah, but how much does it cost?" asked Vaughn.

"What mother will wear" as portrayed by a matronly lady followed. "That's very funny" observed Vaughn, noting the judges pencils, "three of us here are left-handed."

Displayed next was a Dall motif (later corrected by Mr. Dame as a Degas motif) with a fascinating apple-green bodice-bow, which kept perfect time to the background music. "I don't like her; her arms are funny," said Vaughn, adding, "They shoulda put price tags on them."

Necklines and Nymphs

Ultimately the judges wee forced to choose one afternoon and one evening dress. "The neatest neck-line in years" won the former contest, while a costume entitled "Just right for a woodland nymph" copped the latter. The pajamas "to slip into after a swim," lost out primarily because nobody could figure out when they should be worn--although Vaughn had a knowing look.

"What's the price on these two dresses?" Vaughn asked mistress of ceremonies Helen Damon afterwards. "I really don't know," was the cool reply.

Mr. Champagne was clad nattily in a double breasted serge creation with fine, interwoven stripes, while Vaughn Monroe were the same old band trimmed in while pique.