I wonder if it were the producers or costumes who turned lemons into lemonade, when the astringent code was imposed. Producers who copied Zeigfield’s risque formula were probably stymied and angry. Then someone realized that long, sumptuous, opulent ball gowns reflected the wealthy life to which audiences yearned to escape, even if it did mean covering up a sexy body. Someone convinced the others that a coy flirtation in a modest dress with ample girlish ruffles positively breathed “I’m naive about life”. It was just as sexy. Cha-ching.