The task is three-fold:
I'll be showing the French bustle, also called an under-bustle. It looks a bit like the robe a la polonaise and works well with dresses that have details at the top of the skirt. I like it especially when the train is full and long; when the train is not very full, the French bustle starts looking more like the bride went to the bathroom and caught her skirt in her undies...
The other day while reading Barchester Towers, I came across this characterization of Mrs. Stanhope, the indolent wife of an absentee clergyman:
The structure of her attire was always elaborate and yet never over-laboured. She was rich in apparel but not bedizened with finery; her ornaments were costly, rare, and such as could not fail to attract notice, but they did not look as though worn with that purpose. She well knew the great architectural secret of decorating her constructions, and never descended to construct a decoration. But when we have said that Mrs. Stanhope knew how to dress and used her knowledge daily, we have said all. Other purpose in life she had none.
Ouch! A fit match for a husband who takes his job so seriously that he delegates it to a lesser-ranking clergyman and spends his life abroad, collecting butterflies and a salary for the work he's not doing! But the part of the quote that intrigued me was the bit about the "great architectural secret", which sounded like a quote.
As you may recall from my post about ball gowns, I was looking forward to the wedding of Prince Harry and Meghan Markle, mostly for the clothes! I said then of Ms. Markle's dress that I hoped I would "either love of hate it. The worst would be boring." As the date neared, I remembered that Royal weddings in England are generally an excuse for fantastic hats and fascinators, and I got excited about those, too.
So the day came, and I gussied myself up with fantastic fifties hat and floral dress, and co-hosted a tea party for other Anglo-philes! We shared the savory course at the table, then loaded up our tea-plates and moved to the TV to watch the recording!
My old lunch bag made of oilcloth (a kind of lightweight vinyl) served me well for about a year, but even good things must come to an end! In this case, oil from my hands disintegrated the vinyl grips, while occasional heavy lunches took out the bottom corners. So I came home from work one day, shook my head, and pulled it apart to make a new one!
Blogs I Read