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#louis XV's court
larobeblanche · 4 months
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Jean-Marc Nattier (French, 1685-1766) Duchesse de Chartres as Hebe (1726-1759) • Nationalmuseum, Stockholm, Sweden
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gogmstuff · 10 months
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Closing the 1720s for now -
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1720s Barbara Ivory (d.1748), Mrs Henry Davenport III by Charles d' Agar (Lacock Abbey, Fox Talbot Museum and Village - Lacock, near Chippenham, Wiltshire, UK). From artuk.org 1517X1889.
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1721 (after) Tsarevna Anna Petrovna by Ivan I Grigoryevich Adolsky (Hermitage). From arthermitage.org-Ivan-I-Grigoryevich-Adolsky-Portrait-of-Tsarevna-Anna-Petrovna.html 1173X1475.
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ca. 1728 Anna Karolina Orzelska by Antoine Pesne (Muzeum Narodowe w Warszawie - Warszawa, Poland)). From Wikimedia 1500X2267.
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ca. 1729 Queen Maria Barbara of Spain, née Portugal by Jean Ranc (Museo del Prado - Madrid, Spain). From their Web site; fixed spots w Pshop 2445X2953.
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1728 Princess Amelia Sophia, Princess Royal Anne, and Princess Caroline Elizabeth by Philip Mercier (all three at the Hertford Magistrates' Court - Hertford, Hertfordshire, UK). From tumblr.com-search-18th+century 1996X1093.
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1729 A reading of Mollière by Jean-François de Troy (location ?). From Wikimedia 1191X950.
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1729 Wedding portrait of Friederike Luise and Karl Wilhelm Friedrich by Antoine Pesne (Schloss Charlottenburg - Berlin, Germany). From Wikimedia 1400X1980.
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playitagin · 1 year
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 official chief mistress
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Madame de Pompadour (ポンパドゥール夫人 29 December 1721 – 15 April 1764), commonly known as Madame de Pompadour, was a member of the French court. She was the official chief mistress of King Louis XV from 1745 to 1751, and remained influential as court favourite until her death.[1]
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simulatedstyles · 9 months
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Louis-XV-Inspired Robe De Cour
A Maxis-Match Formal Court Gown
Hello my sweeties! I'm so proud to release this gown for all of your 18th-century saves. This has been in my WIP folder for so SO long, and after a bit of a hiatus from creating, I'm so happy I could finish it for you! This gown was inspired by the many portraits of King Louis XV's daughters in their formal court attire.
As usual, I've created different overlay accessories to maximize your customization options in-game. Through different combos of gown color and overlays, there are literally over 100 billion unique looks for this dress... 🤯 I cannot WAIT to see what you can come up with!
Here's What You Get:
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70 Swatches in @anachrosims Georgian & Federal Palette
BGC
Teen-Elder, Female-Frame, Disabled For Random
Includes all LODs, morphs, shadow map, specular, normal map, & custom thumbnails
Mesh & Textures entirely from scratch!
* Disclaimer: given the sheer size of this mesh, along with the detailing of the sleeves, this content is much higher-poly than my previous content! (16k to be exact, but still lower-poly than some other alpha cc) ** Disclaimer 2: true to historical accuracy, the skirt is quite large on this gown! I've done my best with sims' arm placement, but please expect some clipping now and then.
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70 swatches each in matching palette
All located in Facial Piercings category of Head Accessories
Only compatible with Robe De Cour
When using these overlays, the original swatch color chosen for the full body outfit remains as the main color of the bodice and train. You can then fully layer these overlays for different combinations of bodice detail color, bow color, petticoat color, bodice/train damask pattern, and/or petticoat damask pattern.
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Download either the Individual Package Files or Merged Package File
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chic-a-gigot · 4 months
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La Mode nationale, no. 297, 2 janvier 1892, Paris. Panorama de toilettes de bal. Bibliothèque nationale de France
(1) Toilette de jeune fille, en fourreau de velours bleu foncé. Corsage à gerbe, dentelle paille autour du décolletage en rond. Manches de soie paille. Coiffure jeune fille grecque.
(1) Young girl's ensemble, in dark blue velvet sheath. Sheaf bodice, straw lace around the round neckline. Straw silk sleeves. Greek girl hairstyle.
(2) Robe en broché fond blanc, à bouquets multicolores. Le corsage, retenu sous une ceinture vert-amande en satin antique, est orné dans le haut par un volant de dentelle d'Irlande, monté sur un galon brodé de soies multicolores.
Manches bouffantes, en satin blanc, retenues par un bracelet brodé.
Coiffure antique, formée par un pouf en cheveux, entouré par des galons brodés multicolores.
(2) Dress in paperback white background, with multicolored bouquets. The bodice, held under an almond-green belt in antique satin, is decorated at the top with a ruffle of Irish lace, mounted on a braid embroidered with multicolored silks.
Puff sleeves, in white satin, held by an embroidered bracelet.
Antique hairstyle, formed by a hair pouf, surrounded by multicolored embroidered braid.
(3) Robe de mousseline de soie blanche, à corsage sultane en velours carmélite, brodé or et argent, sur corsage froncé, retenu à la taille par une ceinture semblable. Manches courtes, très bouffantes; collier en plumes carmélite.
(3) White silk muslin dress, with a sultana bodice in Carmelite velvet, embroidered in gold and silver, on a gathered bodice, held at the waist by a similar belt. Short, very puffy sleeves; Carmelite feather necklace.
(4) Toilette de jeune femme, en satin rose pâle. Corsage drapé, orné par une berthe en mousseline de soie, terminée par un nœud Watteau derrière. Une bande de violettes ferme le corsage et se répète en bretelles sur les épaules.
(4) Young woman's ensemble, in pale pink satin. Draped bodice, decorated with a silk chiffon berthe, finished with a Watteau knot behind. A band of violets closes the bodice and is repeated in straps on the shoulders.
(5) Toilette de jeune femme. Robe en broché Louis XV bleu-ciel. Corsage plat, recouvert par une grande collerette en dentelle plissée blanche, entourée par un cordon de petities fleurs. Ceinture double et collier en velours noir. Manches bouffantes en satin uni.
(5) Young woman's ensemble. Louis XV sky blue paperback dress. Flat bodice, covered by a large white pleated lace collar, surrounded by a cord of small flowers. Double belt and necklace in black velvet. Plain satin puff sleeves.
(6) Toilette de jeune femme. Corsage plat, en satin antique aubergine, garni par un galon paille et aubergine, recouvert aux entournures par une dentelle blanche faisant Figaro retourné. Manches courtes et bouffantes en mousseline de soie paille. Jupe en soie brochée paille, forme empire, recouverte dans le bas par un haut volant de dentelle blanche. Derrière, longue traîne de satin antique aubergine. Coiffure grecque.
(6) Young woman's ensemble. Flat bodice, in antique aubergine satin, trimmed with straw and aubergine braid, covered around the edges with white lace in the shape of a reversed Figaro. Short, puffed sleeves in straw silk chiffon. Straw brocade silk skirt, empire shape, covered at the bottom by a ruffled white lace top. Behind, long train of antique aubergine satin. Greek hairstyle.
(7) Costume de jeune fille, en satin blanc. Corsage drapé, en mousseline de soie blanche, retenu au milieu par un chou de ruban.
Jupe plate, plissée derrière, garnie dans le bas par cinq rouleaux de satin. Bracelets à chaque poignet.
(7) Young girl's dress, in white satin. Draped bodice, in white silk chiffon, held in the middle by a bow of ribbon.
Flat skirt, pleated behind, trimmed at the bottom with five rolls of satin. Bracelets on each wrist.
(8) Robe de jeune fille, en crépon rouge vif. Corsage uni et décolleté, entouré par une collerette froncée en mousseline de soie rouge. Ceinture brodée. Jupe légèrement vaguée devant, rejetée en plis derrière.
Très petites manches, recouvertes par la collerette.
(8) Young girl's dress, in bright red seersucker. Plain, low-cut bodice, surrounded by a gathered red silk chiffon collar. Embroidered belt. Slightly waved skirt in front, thrown back into folds behind.
Very small sleeves, covered by the collar.
(9) Toilette de femme âgée, en soie noire, brochée. Corsage de satin uni, entouré par une dentelle relevée forme Médicis. Manches bouffantes en tulle noir brodé.
Jupe ample en broché, plissée en petite traîne derrière. Collier de perles fines. Coiffure jeune femme grecque, rehaussée derrière par un pouf de trois plumes roses.
(9) Older woman's ensemble, in black silk, paperback. Plain satin bodice, surrounded by raised Medici lace. Puff sleeves in embroidered black tulle.
Loose brocade skirt, pleated with a small train behind. Fine pearl necklace. Hairstyle of a young Greek woman, enhanced behind by a pouf of three pink feathers.
(10) Robe de dîner, en bengaline azalée. Corsage plat, recouvert, devant et dans le dos, par une pèlerine en pointe, en dentelle d'Irlande, surmontée par un collier en plumes.
Manches courtes, formées par un jockey très bouffant et froncé. Jupe plate devant, rejetée en plis derrière, faisant traîne. Ceinture semblable, nouée en très gros nœud derrière. Coiffure grecque.
(10) Dinner dress, in azalea bengaline. Flat bodice, covered, front and back, by a pointed cape, in Irish lace, topped by a feather collar.
Short sleeves, formed by a very puffy and gathered jockey. Flat skirt in front, folded behind, creating a train. Similar belt, tied in a very large bow at the back. Greek hairstyle.
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lz-didyounotice · 2 months
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11th doctor Mission : Save the king
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This gif do not belong to me.
Heyy! This fic is a little longer then the last one. Wanted to do a propper adventure for the doctor and Clara to follow. This one is also cought in a time paradox. You will be presented as Jeanne du Berry, Favorite of the King Louis XV. I inspired myself with the plot of "The girl in the fireplace". Hope you enjoy !
Froggit-
Warning : Could be concidered Angst at the end, with a preestablished relationship. Mention of prostitution. As always, english is not my frist language.
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“Jeanne du Berry '' was one of the most beautiful women the 18th century had ever seen. From Lorraine to Paris, her beauty was jealous of many, as she attracted all eyes wherever she went. A tall and skinny figure, adorning wonderful pale skin. Her blue eyes looked so innocent, yet she knew how to make use of her charms. Her Long brown hair bleeding into blond as she walked amongst the sun.
She was also known as the favorite of the king, the one who had been part of his most desired dreams by the ladies of the court. Yet, by his side, she never wanted to change who she was and try to be another woman with the numerous étiquettes she was supposed to follow. It wasn’t her place to be. All she wanted was to love the king, make him laugh, let him know he deserved to be treated like a normal individual, to let his title aside when he was by hers. To love him for who he was, and not what he was supposed to be.
After the death of the previous queen, Jeanne rose to power. The king’s daughters all wanted to see her fall, to see her lying in the dirt like the prostitute she was. A whore who had no right to be by their father's side. 
Fortunately enough, Jeanne had what it took to ignore the pretentious princesses all too worried about their reputation to care for their father's feelings. And despite giving her best to be kind around her, something was lurking. Wanting her to be a part of something bigger. A piece of machinery well wired who needed guidance in the more gruesome ways.
As she entered her quarters, the king's valet was waiting for her. 
"Sa Majesté souhaite que vous l’honoriez de votre présence ce soir pour le bal..."
(His Majesty wishes you to honor him with your presence tonight for the ball...)
"Faites-lui savoir que je me présenterais avec joie à ses côtés."
(Let him know that I would gladly present myself at his side.)
—--------------
As the doors of a blue police booth opened, a little brunette had taken a look outside, outstanded by the beautiful scenery. 
The doctor hadn’t lied. Versailles was beautiful at this time of the year. In her dark blue dress, she also looked magnificent, a candy to the eye some would say. Her hair, up in a simple updo, refusing to wear one of those tall and overly done wigs (She had tried to before, but it was too itchy to even keep. Plus, if she needed to run, it would be a disaster). 
As she turned around, she fell eye to eye with the doctor trying to activate the chameleon system of the Tardis. For the occasion, he had put on a magnificent Blue-tailed coat, with an intricate chemise, adorned with a waistcoat of a darker shade of blue. He hadn’t put a wig on either and preferred to hide it with a magnificent officer hat. 
“Doctor, Hurry up, I don’t think we should be late for such an event! ”
“There is only so much I can do Clara !” Said the doctor trying to make the Tardis invisible.
“There seems to be something preventing her from disappearing… A force field or something of the sort. Which is weird since I closed the last one. ” He continued, still searching for the issue.
“Last one ?”
“Yes, well it wasn’t quite a force field, more of a time portal. Had a wonderful night with Madame de Pompadour on the occasion. Wonderful woman I might add.” He said while finally resolving their little camouflage problems. “Ah ha!”
“We may go now ?“ Pressed Clara, still waiting by the door.
“Yes !”
—--------------
The Ballroom was extraordinarily beautiful. Filled with too many of the richest people in the country. If she was being honest, Clara found it rather charming, yet felt a little uncomfortable around so many gorgeous women and men. 
Elbows locked with the doctors, the assembly awaited for the king to arrive, rearranging themself as he was announced. 
“Sa majesté le roi !”
As dictated the etiquette, Clara and the doctor bowed before him and returned to position once he had passed. The brunette found it rather hilarious, trying to retain a smile as she graced the floor. Checking for the doctor's eyes, she found him deep in thought, as if he had seen something he had wished to unsee. 
But before long another person was announced. 
“Madame la Comtesse du Barry !”
And here she was, the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. She wasn't wearing any fancy wigs, her hair let down on her shoulders, decorated with white and long feathers. Her dress was assorted to the cream-white coat the king was adorning. Her trail seemed to be as long as the ballroom as she gently walked towards him.
Once before the king, she presented herself, but as she did so, her eyes couldn't quit his, making the others start chattering, breaking the silence that once stood in the room. And as she did it two other times, Clara looked at the doctor, confused by what was happening before her. 
But soon enough, the chatter was silenced by the music starting, a soft yet charming baroque rhythm playing in the assembly. And as the crowd arranged to dance, The Comtesse had in mind something rather scandalous for both her and Her Majesty. Taking his hand in hers, she accompanied him to the middle of the ballroom and started dancing with him. As everyone stopped to look at them, the Doctor couldn’t stop himself from seeing something he would have wanted to avoid.
All he could see was the golden bracelet around her right wrist, a piece of jewelry he knew wasn’t what it seemed. A shimmer perhaps? Whoever was dancing with the King wasn’t the real woman, a copycat at best, and looking at most of the guests, some wore the same one, hiding it under exaggerated sleeves. 
“Doctor? Is something wrong…?”
“Very wrong…” Catching the girl's hand, he went to one of the hallways, trying to drown out the noise as he thought of a plan. “I guess I know now why I had so much trouble with the Tardis. We might have some uninvited guests… and a portal inside the castle.” He let out flapping his hands about.
“Why would someone want to invade Versailles in the 18th century? ”
“Lots of reasons…! An alien could easily overthrow someone else to get what he wants from it, by preparing a future terrain… Now, what I don’t understand is why choosing the favorite of the king and not the king himself.”
“Maybe he is the next target…? ”
“They would have already done it. Or-” Then it occurred to him that the king had been gone for months before the ball. Giving enough time for those who wanted to hurt him to take place within the court. “Or it was easier to blend in…” He turned toward Clara, excited by his breakthrough, but the frown on Clara's face made him get on track.
—--------------
Being attached to her bed was not really how she expected her reunion with the king. Her arms stretched too far for her to reach her feet tied to the end of the bed, unable to move. She was stuck and worried sick. Worried for her son, worried for the king- 
The room which seemed so calm and charming was now giving her chills as she knew she would soon be killed by those imposters. All of them had left her alone, wanting to partake in the king's murder. The silence was slowly killing her. She had tried to cry for help, but the music seemed too loud for someone to hear. 
Tired of her luck, she took a deep breath one last time and called, her vocal cords trying to hold as she begged to be let out of this situation. 
And soon enough commotion  was noticed by the woman, making her cry once more. Begging whoever was in the hallway to walk into the room. A weird whirring noise was heard, then the lock gave out, leading the door to open.
Before her, stood a tall youthful young man, with unruly brown hair, sticking up in some places. Behind him, a beautiful woman, seemingly the same age as him, wearing a magnificent blue dress. 
“Excuse me, sir…, do you happen to know how to get me out of those bindings ?”
“Please do not Sir… Just call me the Doctor. ” The man said while coming closer to the headboard. Using his sonic screwdriver manages to get her out of the metallic bindings.
“ The Doctor? What a particular name… Is it your occupation or is it a title ?”
“More of a title.”
“What a pity, your hands seem adept at such handy work.” Said Jeanne as her own were finally freed. Soon enough she was off the bed, standing before the two travelers. “Regrettably, there’s no time for discourse, for my liege is threatened with poison by one of those deceitful fellows. One has assumed my likeness, and I dread I may be implicated in the scheme.”
“We may be of assistance!“
“I would have expected as such.”
“Those individuals as you call them, what do you know of them ?” Asked clara, stepping beside the doctor.
"From what I saw, they resemble humans with crystal antlers protruding from their foreheads. Lacking noses, they still appeared capable of breathing. One among them spoke of a civil conflict back in their homeland, mentioning something termed 'the hour of joy,' if memory serves."
“Ow! How stupid could I be! Of course!” Said the Doctor, slapping his forehead frustrated he had let such information sleep through. “ To flee the war they had to have a way out. That’s why there is a time vortex opened. They want to kill the king so it would be easier to find a new home for their people in one of the most influential countries of her century.”
“Doctor? Do we have a plan ?”
“Need to find the portal and send them somewhere other than here.”
“How do we do that ?”
“Simple” The doctor confirmed while scanning the room. “As expected. Jeanne, has there been any renovation in your room while the king was away ?”
“A painting of the king had been installed in my room…”
“Clever! Now could you show me where that would be ?”
Not losing any time, Jeanne convail them in a small room, adjacent to the bed. A rather large library awaited behind. In the middle of the room, was a soft red sofa, invaded by all sorts of books and before it stood a medium painting of the king.
Putting out his sonic, the doctor took it upon himself to jump on a chair and try to open what was hiding the portrait. “Here you are” As the painting got off the wall, a mix of wires had been discovered, a large panel hidden behind.
After reversing its polarity, the doctor finally was able to close the portal. Making whoever wanted to enter it appear on another planet that wasn’t Earth. Now, all they had to do was to get the imposters back to their ship.
—--------------
Jeanne was confused, yet still grateful for the help of the doctor. The ball was still going, and the final moments were to arrive soon, her dear king would be taken away. With a loud bang, the doors at the end of each hall opened, leaving the Comtesse now the center of attention. 
She entered furious, still in the dress she had on this morning. Her corset was killing her, but running to get to the scene was not an option. The doctor had told her about the shimmers. How certain of the guests could also be traitors. But all you could think of was getting this imposter off her lover. 
“My liege! I fear I am not the one you are holding in your arms!” Jeanne was still running toward him, not caring about the looks the other guests were giving her. 
The music had stopped, and panic seemed to ensue as everyone saw double. Thanks to the doctor the situation was taken care of. Explaining what was happening to the king, it wasn’t long after he was out of the fake Jeanne's arms, trying to get back to his favorite. Still connected to their ship, the individual fled. The doctor promised them a safer and harmless way out. Welcoming them to an inhabited planet where they could thrive again.
—--------------
In the end, everything went well, no one was hurt, and the king was saved. He had even tried to get compensation for the help the doctor had offered. But he had refused, claiming it was just another Saturday for him.
Jeanne had followed the doctor and Clara back to the Tardis, wanting to know more about the two time travelers. It was irrational, yet she seemed to be attracted to this incredibly gentleman. Clara had gone ahead, entering the Tardis while the Comtesse stayed to discuss with the timelord.
“So, tell me. Am I to ever see you again?”
“We weren’t to meet in the first place.“ Let out the doctor.
"That is regrettable. I would have desired to learn more about you."
“You can always ask.”
"Can you be truthful? Your eyes betray a distant presence. Why must it be so melancholic?" Looking into his eyes, all she could see was dread, something old that still lingered.
“An old friend of mine had been missing. I searched everywhere, but I’ll find her at some point.”
"If she holds such significance to you, perhaps she is nearer than you anticipate."
“How could she be ?”
"I suppose destiny plays a role? And it's undeniable that you're attractive; I wouldn't fault her for desiring your return."
The doctor couldn't help himself but look at her. Something was screaming at him to look closer into it, to try and understand, but shoving a sonic screwdriver into someone’s face wasn’t a good approach.
“Have we met before ?”
"I don't believe we have. But something suggests it won't be the final occasion either."
“How can you be so sure ?” The Doctor said while trying to find out why he was so attracted to her.
"Life unfolds in mysterious manners. So do I. To my knowledge, no one is born twice."
“I can guess of a few species that can.”
“You're the Bowtie maniac, you should be the one who knows.”
The doctor looked as if he had seen a ghost. “I’m not -(A bow tie maniac)”. In the whole universe, there was only one person who called him this, that he accepted it from. Locking eyes with hers, all he could see was how old they seemed, how much they lived, despite seeming so young. But it made sense. After all (Y/N) had told him about certain past lives. Never giving a name to not disturb time paradoxes that weren’t meant to be. She did mention having had a peculiar life in the 18th century, falling in love with the king. But never would he have guessed for you to have been born as Jeanne de Becu. La Comtesse du Barry.
“Madame! Le roi vous attend !” They heard being called. The Valet of the king interrupted the many questions that had yet to be asked, but it was better to not know and let destiny be what it had done best. Reunite one another.
Jeanne felt there was something more and she wanted to know. But it would ruin the surprise, wouldn’t it? Caressing his confused face with her right hand, she smiled at him. A simple smile, that made his hearts flutter. 
"I suppose this is merely a 'farewell,' Doctor. I'll see you when the time arrives, my Bowtie Maniac." And as her hand left his cheek, he felt his hearts hurt, being left once more by the woman he loved the most in the entire universe.
—--------------
Bonus : 
The Tardis felt silent, sad even. The tension was too much for Clara, and she couldn’t help herself from asking what was going on. Why was he looking so distraught, and was being so quiet as he brought her home?
“Who was she ?”
“Jeanne du Berry? Favorite of the King. A more pleasant way to say concubine. She was born in a monastery. But she became a lady in waiting, then worked in a brothel. She got the visit of a rich noble from the court that presented her to the king. It was love at first sight.”
“And to you ?”
“I didn’t know her by that name. At least never heard her mentioning it as one of her previous incarnations. She never wanted me to know.”
“Why would she hide it ?”
“Paradoxes. If I had known, I might never have wanted to meet the younger version of herself. Avoid it even.”
“What happened to her ?”
“I lost her” Seeing the sad face of Clara, the Doctor still wanted to see her smile, and stop worrying about what went through his head. “But I’m sure we will meet again. Travel together once more like we always did. I’m sure you two would love each other.” Finally let out the doctor full of hope.
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microcosme11 · 11 months
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Charlotte Robespierre mentions Bonaparte in her memoirs
Bonaparte had a very high regard for my two brothers, and especially for the eldest; he admired his talents, his energy, the purity of his patriotism and his intentions. So Bonaparte was sincerely a republican; I would even say that he was a montagnard republican; at least he had that effect on me by the way he looked at things at the time when I was in Nice. His subsequent victories turned his head and made him aspire to dominate his fellow citizens; but when he was only a general of artillery in the army of Italy, he was a partisan of broad liberty and true equality. One thing that has not been reported, as far as I know, by any historian of the revolution, is that after 9 Thermidor Bonaparte proposed to the representatives of the people who were on mission in the army of Italy, and who had succeeded my younger brother and Ricord, to march on Paris to punish the authors of the counter-revolutionary movement which had killed my two brothers. This bold proposal, revealing courage, an extraordinary spirit and patriotism, terrified the representatives, who hastened to repel him. 
I had known Madame Bonaparte when she was the wife of General Beauharnais; she had even then shown me a great deal of affection; and after the 9th Thermidor I had continued to see her. For some time she still received me with the same regard, but soon I noticed a change in the reception she gave me. The coldness and indifference which I had noticed in her redoubled to the point that I thought it my dignity to cease visits which seemed to me to be burdensome to her. Several times her door had been refused to me; one day, when I met her, I expressed my astonishment to her on this subject; she made a thousand apologies to me, and accompanied them with so many demonstrations of friendship, that I ingenuously believed that if I had not been able to penetrate as far as her, it was because of a misunderstanding. "When you want to honor me with your visit," she said to me, "name yourself, and immediately my door will be opened to you." I remembered this recommendation when, a few days later, I called on Madame Bonaparte; the concierge having told me that she was not there, I named myself, telling him that Madame Bonaparte herself had recommended me to state my name, and that I would immediately be received. "Eh, mademoiselle," replied the concierge in a tone that was half mocking and half curt, "Madame says the same thing to everyone, and she's home to no one." It was all the insolence of a grande dame of the court of Louis XV. 
Bonaparte's admiration for my elder brother, his friendship for my younger brother, and perhaps also the interest which my misfortunes inspired in him, enabled me to obtain a pension under the consulate. When Bonaparte was First Consul I was advised to ask him for an audience. I had no resources; since the death of my brothers I received the hospitality of my respectable and excellent friend, M. Mathon, who had been their friend and who was from Arras like us. Bonaparte received me perfectly, spoke to me of my brothers in very flattering terms, and told me that he was ready to do everything for their sister: "Speak, what do you want?" he said to me. I explained my position to him; he promised to take it into consideration; in fact, a few days later I received the patent for a pension of 3,600 francs.
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ides of march
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well, its tumblr's favorite holiday and who can blame us? The assassination of Julius Caesar is probably one of the only group projects that ever went down the way it was supposed to with, well, not complete group participation (there were said to be upward of 60 people involved but only 23 stab wounds - obviously someone was not carrying their weight) but at least a good effort was made at it. But lets take a moment, between our jokes about salad and Animal Crossing butterfly nets to look at what else has happened in history on the Ides of March. For instance, did you know, on March 15th:
1493 - Columbus returned to Spain after 'discovering' the new world.
1580 - Phillip II of Spain put a bounty on the head of Prince William I of Orange for 25,000 gold coins for leading the Dutch revolt against the Spanish Hamburgs
1744 - King Louis XV of France declares war on Britain
1767 - Andrew Jackson, who would go on to be the seventh president of the US, was born.
1820 - Maine became the 23rd state in the US
1864 - the Red River Campaign, called 'One damn blunder from beginning to end' started for the Union Forces in the American Civil War
1889 - a typhoon in Apia Harbor, Samoa sinks 6 US and German warships, killing 200
1917 - Czar Nicholas II abdicated the Russian throne, bringing an end to the Romanov dynasty
1955 - the first self-guided missile is introduced by the US Air Force
1965 - TGI Friday's opens its first restaurant in New York City
1991 - in LA, four police officers are brought up on charges for the beating of Rodney King
2018 - Toys R Us announces it will be closing all its stores
2019 - a terrorist attacks two mosques in Christchurch, New Zealand, killing 51, and wounding 50 others
Oof! Pretty bleak, isn't it? It would almost make you think that the day is just bad luck, start to finish and its probably just as well, we're all focusing on assassination instead of other horrors. But wait - its not all bad news! The Ides of March has some tricks up its sleeve yet (joke intended). I'd be telling you only half the story if I didn't add:
1854 - Emil von Behring is born and will eventually become the first to receive the Nobel Prize in medicine for his discovery of a diphtheria antitoxin, being called 'the children's savoir' for the lives it saves
1867 - Michigan is the first state to use property tax to support a university
1868 - the Cincinnati Red Stockings have ten salaried players, making them the first professional baseball team in the US
1887 - Michigan has the first salaried fish and game warden
1892 - the first automatic ballot voting machine is unveiled in New York City
1907 - Finland gives women the right to vote, becoming the first to do so in Europe
1933 - Ruth Bader Ginsberg is born and will go on to become a US Supreme Court justice
1934 - the 5$ a day wage was introduced by Henry Ford, forcing other companies to raise their wages as well or lose their workers
1937 - the first state sponsored contraceptive clinic in the US opens in Raleigh, North Carolina
1946 - the British Prime minister recognizes India's independence
1947 - the US Navy has its first black commissioned officer, John Lee
1949 - clothes rationing ends in Britain, four years after the end of WWII
1960 - ten nations meet in Geneva for disarmament talks
1968 - the Dioceses of Rome says it will not ban 'rock and roll' from being played during mass but that it deplores the practice - also in 1968, LIFE magazine titles Jimi Hendrix 'the most spectacular guitarist in the world'
1971 - ARPANET, the precursor of the modern day internet, sees its first forum
1984 - Tanzanian adopts a constitution
1985 - symbolics.com, the first internet domain name, is registered
The Ides of March turns out to just be a day, like any other day in history.
Unless you're us. In which case -
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anthroxlove · 10 months
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AMBER RESTARTS X FROM ITALY After a long silence, Amber Heard returns with a film, presented at the Taormina Film Festival. At the center of the plot is a woman who is not believed. Just as it happened to her, who narrated domestic violence and was the subject of a hate campaign during the trial pitting her against ex Johnny Depp, triumphantly welcomed at Cannes only a short time ago By Enrica Brocardo
A little more than a year after the end of the defamation trial that had seen Amber Heard and ex-husband Johnny Depp confront each other in the courtroom in Fair- fax, Virginia, and ended with the star's victory, the actress chose the Taormina film festival for her first public appearance. Her new film, In the Fire, or In the Fire, premiered June 24, accompanied by Heard, who walked the red carpet that evening. Last May, on the other hand, it had been Johnny Depp's turn to indulge in a crowd at the Cannes Film Festival, where Jeanne du Barry - The King's Favorite, in which he plays France's King Louis XV, had been chosen as the opening film. Awaiting him was a winner-take-all reception, where it was the seven-minute standing ovation at the screening rather than sympathy for Amber that weighed in. Yet this collective takedown somewhat contrasts with the entire court story, which actually ended in a draw of sorts. It is true that, in America, she was found guilty of defamation for an editorial she wrote in 2018 in The Washington Post newspaper in which she spoke about the harassment and violence she had suffered (but never mentioned her ex-husband's name). But it is also true that Depp had lost his previous lawsuit against the British newspaper The Sun, which, again in 2018, called him a "wife beater." Many wondered why two such similar prosecutions could end with two opposing verdicts. One of the reasons, according to an analysis by British lawyer specializing in Media Law Mark Stephens, is that while in Britain the decision was made by a judge, in the United States it was a people's jury that convicted Heard. "It reflected the judgment already made by the public opinion, which, from the very beginning of the trial, had stood up for Depp," the expert explained. Another reason would be that the judge in the trial against the Sun had defused the strategy of the plaintiff's lawyers, namely to prove that Heard had lied on a few occasions in order to undermine his credibility, and had focused rather on the evidence of the incidents of violence against his wife. In Fairfax, conversely, Depp's lawyers had a free hand in discrediting Heard. Moreover, not only in the eyes of the jury, but of the world inter- not because the trial aired live on the web, resulting in a hate campaign against the actress that, a few months later, prompted her to leave Hollywood and move with her 2-year-old daughter Oonagh to live in Spain. Meanwhile, late last year, the two exes reached an agreement whereby she would no longer have to pay over $10 million in compensation, but "only" $1 million, which the actor, in turn, said he would donate to charity. At the same time, alongside the actress, associations against gender violence and feminists lined up with an open letter (see opposite page) also signed a few days ago by French writer Annie Ernaux, who will be awarded the Nobel Prize in 2022. In the Fire, which will hit theaters in the fall, is a supernatural thriller of sorts: the story of a psichiatrist who in the late 1800s is called in to take care of a child that people believe possessed by the devil. She tries to pit science against superstition but, even as a woman, is not believed. A more muted return to the scenes than that of Depp, who also recently signed a contract with a luxury brand. In short, refinding her place in Hollywood, despite the release of Aquaman and the Lost Kingdom next December, promises to be more complicated for Heard. [ The open letter supporting Amber can be read here. ]
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thegoldensanctuary · 1 year
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The King's gold tableware and The grand Couvert Ceremony
THE GOLD TABLEWARE
At this time of the year many of you will get to enjoy a nice family dinner, with what I hope will be fancy dishes and nice tableware. That is why I want to focus today on how the King of France or the royal family enjoyed their own Dinner during the 18th century.
When return to Versailles with his court in 1723 Louis XV had to follow the table ritual established his his predecessor the sun King. But as times he tried distinguishing himself from his illustrious ancestor of his : he changed the occurrence of the public meals to only include the supper of the no hunt days.
In 1727 he also decided to replaced the silverware of Louis XIV with his own tableware,at only 17 years old he dreamed of something more grand, more fancy. He therefore decided to order an entire table set made out of PURE GOLD! He had to provide the gold ingots himself, and all the goldsmith of the crown were assigned a role in this endeavour.
The first year he received over 112 pieces which included forks, knives, plates and several containers made of pure gold. During almost 2 decades he kept adding new pieces to his gold tableware set. During the 1740s he ended up running out of gold ingots, and in order to add the last pieces to the collection he had to melt gold tokens that the city of Paris offered him at several occasion such as his coronation, his wedding or even for the new year. He even had to melt a massive commemorative medal made out of gold and featuring the bust of the sun king. He finally received his long awaited gold girandoles in 1747(two decades after receiving the first tableware items). The design of the piece was made by Thomas Germain and was seen as one of the treasures of the rococo art in France.
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THE GRAND COUVERT
The grand couvert ceremony occurred in the Queen's Antechamber : the King sat next to the queen on a tall backrest armchair, and with the grand master of ceremony standing in between them, in front of them the courtiers standing or sitting on bench while watching them consume their supper. The first course was usually a set of soups accompanied by toasts and bread :
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The send course had a plate with beef usually another one with mouton and another one with a mix of mouton and calf which he never touched.
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He the continued with a course centred around roasted fowl, chicken, pigeons or duck, turkey or sometimes rabbit.
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And then the desert with fruits arranged into pyramid, both fresh fruits ,candied ones and dried ones , accompanied by small cakes and compotes, and a piece of citron(cédrat).
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The set with all the tableware will be available on my Patreon.
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gogmstuff · 10 months
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ca. 1730 Empress Elisabeth Christine by Johann Gottfried Auerbach (Belvedere (specific building ?) - Wien, Austria). From Wikimedia 1719X2355,
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sirenjose · 6 months
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Similarities between Mary Kreiburg and Marie Antoinette
Mary Kreiburg (obviously) shares a number of similarities with Mary, but I wanted to take time to list them, looking at her story in comparison to Marie Antoinette’s.
We know Mary Kreiburg (a relative of Frederick Kreiburg), who’s originally from Austria, marries Manus de Capet, who fell in love at first sight with her. Soon after marrying, she became depressed, supposedly due to a “lack of social venues”.
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To make her happy, Manus builds Kreiburg Racecourse for her, which becomes “the hottest social event in town”. Cyanus, aka the “White Steed of Death”, was a gift from Manus to Mary of his love.
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Cyanus participates in the races and wins a number of awards. Cyanus’ rider, before each race, invited a “lucky lady”, which was usually Mary, to “pin a flower on it as a victory blessing”.
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Unfortunately, according to Ashes of Memory 2 and Mary’s 4th letter, people spread rumors that Mary Kreiburg had a relationship with Cyanus’ (White Steed of Death’s) rider, attached “unnecessary significance to her every action”, and gave her a “malicious nickname just because of her origins and name” (as well as later suggested Manus stole Mary’s dowry, likely referring to Blue Hope).
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Mary later dies, with some suggesting she hung herself due to being unable to deal with the pressure from the rumors she had an affair, while others say it was a murder disguised as a suicide.
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Marie Antoinette was born in Austria and sent by her mother to marry (future king) Louis XVI of France when she was 14 years old. She was immediately expected to excel at her new role despite being ill-trained as well as immediately expected to consummate her marriage, with her initial attempts at sexual intercourse watched by numerous people (so it’s not surprising these attempts weren’t successful). It didn’t help that Marie and Louis were very different (he was shy while Marie was an extrovert, he liked to read but she didn’t, he was indecisive but she wasn’t, etc…).
Life as part of the French Royal family was also very different from her life in Austria while growing up. Most notable was the utter lack of privacy that came with it (Versailles was the least private place in France, meaning anything that happened, such as the couple not having consummated their marriage yet, was immediately known by everyone), unlike the clear division between public and private spaces only for her family back in Austria. There was also how she was never allowed to be alone or carry out even small personal tasks for herself, the number of official rituals she was expected to carry out or participate in, and the fact aristocrats spent much of their time talking about gossip, political intrigues, and sexual affairs.
Unfortunately, due to her being a newcomer and a foreigner, with everyone’s distrust in her Austrian loyalties, and with the couple’s sexual problems (and how they didn’t immediately consummate the marriage), led to her already being the target of gossip and rumors.
On top of this, it was difficult for her to adjust to the strict protocols and etiquette of the French court, with her finding Versailles lonely and stifling, not to mention how she was unhappy about her marriage (at least initially) as well as with all the politics and monotonous rituals.
Marie’s lavishly spent in her early years in part to compensate for her unhappiness and loneliness (unhappy due to being expected to have a kid with a boy she just met at 14, already having rumors and nicknames, being targeted for being a foreigner, distrust in where she came from, the fact her mother was unhappy at her not consummating the marriage sooner and believing in the rumors about her, and Marie’s lack of love yet for her new husband). She was physically unfulfilled and emotionally distant from her husband, who also was initially wary of her and her ties to Austria. They grew further apart after they ascend the throne after King Louis XV’s death (didn’t help that he was an early bird while she liked to stay up late). Also, in reaction to her dislike at the lack of privacy and her unhappiness, she withdraws into her own inner circle, especially when Louis builds her a private chateau/haven where only those she invited could enter.
She distracted herself by throwing lavish parties for a close circle of friends/acquaintances, which initially included alcohol and gambling (she reformed on at least gambling later). Her favorites included Princess Lamballe, the Polignac family, and Axel Fersen, who she was rumored to have had an affair with (and there may be at least enough evidence to maintain the myth).
It was due to her lavish spending that she earned the nickname “Madame Deficit”, which also essentially included people suggesting her spending was responsible for the national debt.
One of her other nickname was “L’Autrichienne”, which combines the word “Austrian” with “chienne”, the word for a female dog (aka, the nickname meant “Austrian b****”).
Her lifestyle calmed down and she became more frugal later in her life, especially once she did have children (which also helped improve Louis and Marie’s relationship with each other). But despite how she got increasingly better over time, her reputation persisted and she continued to be condemned for her spending on clothes, jewelry, hairpieces, and her favorites. Her reputation as especially damaged by the diamond necklace affair (which is mentioned in Mary’s 1st letter) despite her having played no real part in this incident. More rumors continued to be spread about her, including her being accused of adultery, incest, espionage/manipulate of the king for Austria, that her children weren’t fathered by the king, etc…
This all of course leads to her and Louis’ deaths as everyone knows during the French Revolution.
As for the similarities between Mary Kreiburg and Marie Antoinette:
Austrian origins
From well-known/noble families
Manus de “Capet”, referring to the Capetian dynasty, the ruling family of France, which included Louis XVI, Marie’s husband.
Manus falling in love at first sight with her and them marrying soon after could parallel Marie being wed quickly to Louis.
Becoming depressed soon after marriage. Mary Kreiburg wanting “social venues” could tie to Marie’s loneliness at Versailles and her desire for entertainment/distractions to compensate for her unhappiness.
Love of jewelry/gems
Manus built Mary the Kreiburg Racecourse, while Louis built Marie the Petit Trianon, the chateau Marie sought refuge at most of the time when she was at Versailles.
Mary Kreiburg liked horses and horseriding. Marie also liked horse riding, though due to opposition she was only allowed to ride donkeys. Versailles though did own very many horses in the royal stables
Target of many rumors.
Rumors of affairs. Mary Kreiburg with the rider of Cyanus aka the “White Steed of Death”, and Marie Antoinette with various others, but also specifically with Axel Fersen.
“Blue Hope” likely being based on Hope Diamond, which Marie Antoinette did own, and both gems said to be “cursed”.
Mary died by hanging, either suicide but also could’ve been a murder disguised as a suicide. The latter idea would fit with Marie being sentenced to death and killed by the guillotine during the French Revolutions. Also, maybe just my opinion, but Marie was strong when going to her execution (even apologized to her executioner when she stepped on his foot), so I feel like Mary Kreiburg should be too, so it may more likely be murder? If only to have that parallel of both being killed.
Louis is killed during the French Revolution. Manus de Capet disappears.
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Charles-André van Loo (1705-1765) "Marie Leszczyńska, Queen of France" (1747) Oil on canvas Located in the Palace of Versailles, Versailles, France Marie Leszczyńska (1703-1768) was Queen of France as the wife of King Louis XV from their marriage in 1725 until her death in 1768. The daughter of Stanisław Leszczyński, the deposed King of Poland, and Catherine Opalińska, her 42-years and 9 months service was the longest of any queen in French history. Marie was popular among the French people for her generosity and introduced many Polish customs to the royal court at Versailles.
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vestaignis · 7 months
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 "Ангорская кошка и птичка". 1761 г. "Angora cat and bird." 1761
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"Вакханалия с козлом" "Bacchanalia with a goat"
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"Любимая Четверка" "Favorite Four"
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Портрет собаки на красной подушке. Portrait of a dog on a red pillow.
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"Мими, любимая собака мадам де Помпадур." 1762 г.
"Mimi, Madame de Pompadour's favorite dog." 1762.
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Спаниели вспугивают куропаток. Spaniels flush out partridges.
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Два мопса играют. 1756 г.Two pugs are playing.
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"Басня о лошади и волке" .1760г.
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"Милон Кротонский" "Milon of Croton"
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Собака гаванской породы. Havanese breed dog.
Жан-Жак Башелье (Jean-Jacques Bachelier),1724-1806 гг. Французский художник. Жан-Жак Башелье стал любимым художником-флористом и анималистом при дворе французского короля Людовика XV и маркизы де Помпадур. Он писал небольшие картины с изображениями цветов, натюрмортов, кошек, собак и птиц .
Jean-Jacques Bachelier, 1724-1806 French artist. Jean-Jacques Bachelier became a favorite floral and animal painter at the court of the French King Louis XV and the Marquise de Pompadour. He painted small paintings of flowers, still lifes, cats, dogs and birds .
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chic-a-gigot · 2 months
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La Mode nationale, no. 10, 8 mars 1902, Paris. No. 1. — Groupe de toilettes pour dames et jeunes filles. Bibliothèque nationale de France
(1) Toilette de visites pour jeune femme ou jeune fille, en voile paille. La jupe courte et arrondie est plissée tout autour à repincés qui dans le bas restent libres; elle est dentelée et brodée en grosse laine et en soie de même ton. Elle tombe sur un très haut volant plissé et brodé simulant une seconde jupe. Ce volant est plus haut derrière que devant.
Boléro carré plissé et brodé comme la jupe ouvert sur un gilet croisé et drapé en satin liberty capucine rentré dans une ceinture drapée et en pointe. Grand col découpé en forme d'empiècement où se retrouve la même broderie. La manche est plissée jusqu'au coude pour fournir un haut volant également dentelé et brodé.
(1) Visiting ensemble for young women or girls, in straw veil. The short, rounded skirt is pleated all around with darts which remain free at the bottom; it is laced and embroidered in coarse wool and silk of the same tone. It falls on a very high pleated and embroidered ruffle simulating a second skirt. This steering wheel is higher behind than in front.
Square bolero, pleated and embroidered like the skirt, open over a double-breasted and draped cardigan in nasturtium liberty satin tucked into a draped, pointed belt. Large collar cut in the shape of a yoke where the same embroidery is found. The sleeve is pleated to the elbow to provide a ruffled top that is also laced and embroidered.
Matériaux: 8 mètres de voile; 1m,50 de satin liberty.
Chapeau en paille satin nuance blé à calotte haute, entouré de deux amazones blanches.
Wheat-colored satin straw hat with high crown, surrounded by two white Amazons.
(2) Robe de promenade pour jeune femme ou dame d'un certain âge, en drap satin noir. Jupe en forme garnie de straps à dépassants de velours. Veste façon Louis XV tout cerclée de velours noir, avec longue basque rapportée garnie de même. Manche à coude ornée de velours et terminée par un volant plissé en mousseline de soie noire. Col haut orné d'une ruche en mousseline de soie noire chenillée au bord jabotant jusqu'à la taille et finissant par un long pan avec petit volant.
(2) Walking dress for young women or ladies of a certain age, in black satin cloth. Shaped skirt trimmed with straps with velvet overhangs. Louis Elbow sleeve decorated with velvet and finished with a pleated ruffle in black silk chiffon. High collar decorated with a ruffle in black chenille silk chiffon with a ruffled edge reaching to the waist and ending in a long panel with a small ruffle.
Matériaux: 6 mètres de drap; 4 mètres de mousseline de soie.
Toque en dentelle de crin avec piquet de cerises.
Horsehair lace hat with cherry stake.
(3) Toilette de visites pour jeune femme, en étamine cordée rouge étrusque. Jupe en forme bordée d'un entre-deux de Cluny noir sur transparent blanc, tombant sur trois volants froncés en liberty noir. Corsage rentré dans la taille fermé de côté par des boutons noirs. Col montant de Cluny sur transparent blanc et grand col rond composé de trois volants en liberty rappelant ceux de la jupe. La manche est plissée à l'épaule et au bas et terminée par trois petits volants de liberty noir.
(3) Visiting ensemble for young women, in Etruscan red corded stamen. Shaped skirt bordered with a black Cluny in-between on transparent white, falling on three gathered ruffles in black liberty. Bodice tucked into the waist closed on the side with black buttons. Cluny stand-up collar on transparent white and large round collar made up of three liberty ruffles reminiscent of those on the skirt. The sleeve is pleated at the shoulder and at the bottom and finished with three small black liberty frills.
Matériaux: 6 mètres d'étamine; 7 mètres de liberty; 1 mètres de taffetas blanc.
Chapeau marquis en paille satin bordé de dentelle blanche et orné de choux en mousseline de soie ciel.
Marquis hat in satin straw edged with white lace and adorned with sky chiffon puffs.
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esta-elavaris · 7 months
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Flufftober Day 14: "I hate it." "No you don't." - Cutler Beckett/OC [2,799 words]
My Flufftober '23 masterpost can be found here 💜✨
I was trying to figure out how the hell to write Beckett in a romantic setting and my brain gave me toxic power couple, enjoy. This is more hurt/comfort with eventual kinda-sorta fluff than anything else, but I did my best and so no one can judge me xoxo
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It was the evening of her husband’s farewell party before he departed for the Caribbean, and Lady Clara Beckett was a woman on a mission. She had been ever since her dear husband had announced he would not be bringing her with him when he set sail, citing that it was too dangerous and that there was no real need for her to be there - wording that had earned him a look that said more than an earful ever might. But good reason had failed, her discussions with him had been for naught, and he had resolved not to listen. So now, there was only time left for dirty tactics.
He had no right to be too cross about that. It was something he often revelled in, and while she couldn’t give him the credit in saying she’d learned it from him, watching his actions certainly encouraged her. Clara suspected he found it charming at times – but she knew tonight would not be one of those times. She wasn’t even sure she wanted it to be one of those times, her annoyance at now being bloody well listened to warring with her fury at how calm and impassive he was as she’d argued her case. No, she couldn’t quite decide if her plan for the night was with the aim of ‘winning’, or just of royally annoying him.
Although with two goals, she was more likely to achieve at least one of them, was she not?
Her maid did not seem to think so, if the silence in which she dressed her was anything to go by. Clara cared little. It at least saved her from any inane conversation – focused instead on the overall effect. Straight from the court of Louis XV, the gown was red silk, simple and sophisticated without frills or lace. Primarily because none was needed, as the neckline spoke for itself, dipping so far down that it exposed the curve of the pale, smooth underside of her breasts. Were she more well-endowed, it would’ve appeared obscene. Thankfully, she was fairly certain she could just get away with it.
Rubies dangled from her ears, bringing out the warmth of her dark locks where they were piled artfully atop her head, but when the maid brought out the matching necklace, Clara waved her away. It would ruin the effect.
With the maid dismissed thereafter, she had a moment alone to steel herself for what lay ahead. Standing, she inspected her reflection one last time and found that she rather liked what she saw, her dark eyes staring cooly back at her. Then, she took in a deep breath – and found it was a good thing they were throwing a dinner party and not a ball, for the dress would never remain in place for something like dancing – and then made for the door.
 A footman was striding down the corridor as she stepped out, and when he saw her, he froze, and then did his utmost to keep his eyes firmly glued upon her face. Clara took that as a good sign, but kept any indication of that to herself.
“Lord Beckett?” she asked.
“His…study, my lady. Seeing to a handful of letters before your guests arrive.”
“Very well, thank you,” she nodded, and made her way there – her shoulders squaring and her chin raising more and more with every step.
Her husband was indeed in his study, alone behind the great mahogany desk, his eyes fixed firmly on whatever it was he was writing now. She knew not why he would leave any correspondence so late, but no doubt there was a reason behind it – there was a reason behind everything he did. They had that in common.
Stepping inside without announcing herself, she swept her way towards the chair before the desk and sank casually into it, leaning back and watching him with great patience. He looked up, his quill stilled, and a great splotch of ink fell down atop the letter.
Clara smiled. Cutler did not.
“Absolutely not,” he said firmly.
Only once he’d managed to lift his gaze to her eyes.
“It’s from Paris,” she said, her tone light.
“Then the French can let their wives wear them. Change, Clara. Immediately.”
“Take me with you to Jamaica. Tomorrow.”
Realisation hit him then – visibly, his jaw clenching as he heaved a great sigh, leaning back in his chair as he considered her like she was some new great opponent. His head was already in whatever games lay ahead, then. Or perhaps he simply saw her as good practise. There was something flattering in that.
“No,” he said.
Clara shrugged.
“Then it appears we’re at an impasse.”
“So that’s your plan, then, is it? To flounce around showing me precisely what it is I’ll be missing, as if I’m not already well aware?”
His tone might’ve been scathing if not for the certain note of excitement threatening to slip through his annoyance. He did so enjoy their little games.
“You, and everybody else,” she smirked.
Annoyance prevailed then, for he seemed to like that notion even less than his first assumption. Much to her delight. It wasn’t so much, she knew, about the prospect of other men seeing and desiring what was his – for what good was a beautiful wife if not for that very purpose? So long as she never let them think they had a chance in hell (and they never did – infuriating as he was, she was rather fond of her husband), he liked that aspect of things. No, his reservations here would lie in what his leaving behind a woman such as her suggested about his wits. Which was exactly what she intended. She wanted everybody to look at him tonight, after looking at her for a good long while, and wonder if he’d lost his mind in deciding to let her out of his sight.
“Change your dress, Clara,” he ordered. “You have countless other very becoming ones. Choose one of them, and wear that instead.”
Flattery would get him nowhere. Downstairs, the sound of the servants admitting the first of their guests into the house echoed throughout, and her smiled shifted into a smirk as she rose to her feet.
“Would you look at that? I’m afraid it’s too late.”
Turning, she strode to the door of his office before pausing and turning back to him, drawing herself up to her full height as she posed with all the elegance she could muster. Which, as it was, happened to be rather a lot.
“You haven’t said what you think of the dress.”
He scowled at her. “I hate it.”
Clara grinned, seeing through the assertion immediately – rather helped by how, despite his protests, his eyes were glued to her figure.
“No you don’t,” she said.
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Their guests were more people whom they were supposed to like rather than those they really held in any high regard. Then again, did anybody really like anybody in London? Neighbours, business associates, and not quite anybody who would be offended at the lack of an invite but instead those whose offense would actually matter, should it come to that.
Lady Clara Beckett greeted them all warmly, tittering appropriately over the origins of their silverware, or the sofa on which they sat as they waited for dinner to be served, or the year on the fine bottles of wine served – and, of course, the dress.
If Cutler was still cross with her (which she knew he was) he did it almost immaculately well, engaging in small-talk over his upcoming journey, talking in serious tones about the threat of the pirate problem, and humming with a great deal of false humility over what his chances may or may not have been at stamping it all out.
Of course, she said “almost” immaculately, for there was one sore spot. One of his good friends – or allies, rather – a fellow Lord, had seen fit to bring his son along with him. Said son was but a year older than Clara, and had presented a rather strong case for her hand way back when she’d still had to endure things like courting and what her potential prospects were. Alexander had never had a chance at “winning” her, but he didn’t seem to know that. Nor did he seem to have much care for his own wife – a boring little Blowsabella who scarcely seemed able to say three words without blushing, as though fearing they were the wrong ones, leaving Clara pitying the lobster that had to die to feed such a bore tonight. Instead, Alexander instead spent much of the evening all but glued to Clara instead, doing his utmost to be charming.
To his credit, he was rather good at it.
No doubt he smelled blood in the water, knowing her husband would soon depart and leave her alone for what could be years.
The evening was a roaring success, as all evenings she put together were. The conversation flowed nicely, dinner was impeccable, and the drinks that followed were so jolly that they were all very reluctant to leave thereafter. She had to suppress a smirk when Alexander’s father leaned in close to Cutler as he left, his face flushed with drink, saying in what he likely thought was a whisper.
“You must be out of your mind to leave a woman like that behind, my dear fellow. Out of your mind!”
His son looked very self-satisfied to hear it, shooting her a look that could only be described as scheming as he herded his wife out of the door. It closed behind them, and she knew her husband had caught the look thanks to how his hands curled into fists at his sides.
“That went rather well, I thought,” she said happily.
“I suppose you were particularly pleased with those parting comments at the end, there,” his tone was scathing.
It rather warmed her.
“If the opinions men hold over your decision to leave me behind bothers you so greatly, perhaps you might rethink those very actions in the first place. When has what others said ever bothered you when you knew the course of action you were taking was the right one?”
“Perhaps the opinions of others bother me when those opinions were cajoled by my wife behaving like a common whore! Perhaps it’s not my present decisions that concern me, but instead the decision I made not one full year ago when I chose such a woman over one who would know her place and do as she was damn well told!”
Silence hung in the air when he was finished. Clara was content to let it remain there, watching him without respond, allowing him to fully consider precisely what it was he’d just said to her. For the first time ever – in all the time that she’d known him – her husband looked alarmed, the fury slipping from his face like rain from a windowpane.
“Clara…darling…” he sighed.
Darling, was it? He only broke out the terms of endearment in truly dire circumstances. Her expression must have been thunderous, then.
“I wish you safe passage on your travels, husband. I’m rather tired, so I’m afraid I won’t be awake to see you off come morning. You may write, if you so wish,” her tone was clipped, and there was a finality to her words.
Although it would be a good long while before he got any response beyond what was entirely necessary – information as to the running of the household, and so on.
The only way she allowed her temper to shine through was in how she snatched her hand away when he reached for it, rising to her feet and leaving the room. The maid noted the curl of her lip and her silence well enough, dressing her for bed and binding her thick dark hair into a long plait behind her head with no attempt at chit-chat, finally leaving the room swiftly thereafter.
Once the door clicked shut behind her, Clara rested her elbows atop the vanity and sighed heavily. How dare he? More infuriatingly still, he’d left her feeling as though she had done something wrong. Not in her manner of dress – she would wear whatever she damn well pleased within the bounds of good taste and propriety. And what did men know of fashion, anyhow? No, what she was questioning was the goodbye she'd offered. Paltry. Cold, even, considering it would be at least a year before they saw one another again. More, conceivably.
But what else could a man expect, upon likening his wife to a whore? And as for his other assertion – the mere suggestion that he’d ever be content with some insipid little fool who simpered and smiled and did not know precisely who and what he was. It would have been hilarious, were it not so insulting.
She been lying in her bed, glaring at the canopy for some time when a knock sounded at her door. Instantly she knew it was him, despite the fact that he never knocked. So she rolled over and put her back to the door, just in time for it to open. Footsteps, muffled by the rug, drew near and then the bed behind her sank as he sat down.
“I’ve spoken to your maid. She believes she can have your belongings packed and ready to go come morning.”
Clara scoffed.
“To what end?”
“You are my wife. Your place is by my side.”
“Yes, well I’m sure there’ll be many bored ladies in Port Royal eager to warm your bed when you make port, so you shan’t miss me. You said it yourself, I do not know my place. I should hate to change that now.”
“You know that isn’t true. None of it.”
“An hour ago, I might’ve thought not. Then, however, you likened me to a whore and everything was made quite clear.”
“You’re coming with me to Jamaica. Would I decide that if I thought you a whore?”
“I suppose it depends on the hourly rate. I’m not going.”
“Clara.”
“I’m not. And I’m not just saying it so that you might convince me otherwise, I’m saying it because I know you changed your mind solely to stop me from being cross with you. I don’t want to win – not anymore. Not that way, in any case. I’ll get up in the morning and see you off if that’ll convince you that I mean it. But I will not go.”
The bed behind her rose, indicating he’d stood, and something within Clara seized up – devastation outweighing the relief that he’d finally listened to her. But then he rounded the bed instead, coming to sit before her. She could not roll onto her other side without the display bordering on the ridiculous, so she forced her face to remain stony as she regarded him. He’d undressed before coming here – now in a nightshirt and devoid of his wig. It was almost easy to forget who he was, and what he was capable, without all of the finery and the accoutrements that went into Lord Beckett being Lord Beckett, his dark hair sticking up here and there.
She would not allow herself to be charmed by it; for that was likely his intention.
“Come with me to Jamaica,” he said. “Please. Not because you’re cross, and not because it shall mean you have won, but because you are my wife, and I’ve little wish to spend the next year or more without you. Tonight has shown me that well enough.”
Clara stared, pushing herself up so that she was sitting upright. Because he never said please. He’d proposed with less heart than what he’d just shown now. Her eyes lowered, and she angrily urged herself to get a grip – a fire blazing in her gaze when she met his eye again.
“Never use that word to refer to me again,” she warned.
He weighed the response, nodding slowly and then finding her hand amidst the covers. “So long as you never grow predictable. So long as you never bore me.”
She could promise well enough that she’d never do that. Based on the rueful smirk on his face as she slid over to admit him into her bed, he knew that well enough.
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Links: AO3 -- FF.net -- flufftober masterpost -- dividers by cafekitsune
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