Poor little short comedy which posits that in a hundred years men's styles will revert to Regency garb, and that there will be a complete role reversal, with Clyde Cook staying home alone while wife Katherine Grant goes tomcatting -- if that's the word -- around town. That and the blimps that can be seen out the window are the only jokes. Given that the gags would not be funny were the the sex roles not reversed, it's no better this way
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