#sometimes personal practice is a bunch of post it notes and a shot of honeyed whiskey
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odinsyoyo · 2 years ago
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Too tired to contextualize thought process and organize words, brain ping-ponging off the bumpers so here's the ricochet: creativity and inpiration, facilitators and associations, odin and kvasir, shitting out mead (for the bad poetry), but needing to write badly in order to get to anything good, writing badly as an offering, sacrificial words for the compost heap so something can grow from it
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qqueenofhades · 8 years ago
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Medieval cosmetics: The history of looking good
So, I recently saw a post on my dash with someone lamenting the fact that in the medieval era, they would have been considered ugly as there was no makeup, and someone else offering a well-meant attempt to reassure them: that since they’d have no pox scars, rotten teeth, filthy hair, etc, all medieval men would think they were amazingly hot. While I appreciate the sentiment, there’s.... more than a little mythology on both sides of this idea, and frankly, our medieval foremothers would be surprised and insulted to hear that they were apparently the stereotyped bunch of unwashed, snaggle-toothed crones who put no care or effort into their appearance, and had no tools with which to do so.
(Or: Yep. Hilary Has More Things To Say. You probably know where this is going.)
I answered an ask a couple weeks ago that was mostly about medieval gynecological care and the accuracy of the “mother dying in childbirth” stereotype, but which also touched on some of the somehow still-widely-believed myths about medieval personal care and cleanliness. Let’s start with bathing. Medieval people bathed, full stop. Not as frequently as we do, and not in the same ways, but the “people never washed in Ye Olde Dark Ages” chestnut needs to be decidedly consigned to the historical dustbin where it belongs. “A Short History of Bathing Before 1601″ is a good place to start, as it follows the development of bathing culture from ancient Rome (where bathhouses were known for their use as gathering places and influential centers of political debate) through to the modern era. Yes, common people as well as the nobility washed fairly frequently. Bathing was a favored social and leisure activity and a central part of hospitality for guests. Hey, look at all these images in medieval manuscripts of people bathing. Or De balneis Puteolanis, which is basically a thirteenth-century travel guide to the best baths in Italy. Or these medieval Spanish civic codes about when men, women, and Jews were allowed to use the public bath house. There was also, as referenced in the above ask, the practice of washing faces, hands, etc daily, and sometimes more than once. Feasts involved elaborate protocol about who was allowed to perform certain tasks, including bringing in the bowls of scented water to wash between courses. They associated filth with disease (logically). Anyway. Let’s move on.
Combs are some of the oldest (and most common) objects found in medieval graves -- i.e. they were a standard part of the “grave goods” for the deceased, and were highly valued possessions. Look, it’s a young woman combing her hair (that article also discusses the history of medieval makeup for men, which was totally a thing and likewise also suspected of being “unmanly.”) The Luttrell Psalter, now in the British Library, includes among its many illuminations one of a young woman having her hair elaborately combed and styled by an attendant. There were extensive discourses on what constituted an ideally attractive medieval woman, and the study of aesthetics and the nature of beauty is one of the oldest and most central philosophical enquiries in the world (as were beauty standards in antiquity). Having a pale complexion was a sign of wealth (you didn’t have to work outdoors in the sun) and women used all kinds of pastes and powders to achieve that effect. Remember the Trotula, the medieval gynecological textbook we talked about in the childbirth ask? Well, it is actually three texts, and the entire third text, De ornatu mulierum (On Women’s Cosmetics) is dedicated to makeup and cosmetics. What weird and gross sort of things do they advocate, cry editors of “7 Horrifying Medieval Beauty Tips You Won’t Believe!”-style articles? Well...
First come general depilatories for overall care of the skin. Then there are recipes for care of the hair: for making it long and dark, thick and lovely, or soft and fine. For care of the face, there are recipes for removing unwanted hair, whitening the skin, removing blemishes or abscesses, and exfoliating the skin, plus general facial creams. For the lips, there is a special unguent of honey to soften them, plus colorants to dye the lips and gums. For the care of teeth and prevention of bad breath, there are five different recipes. The final chapter is on hygiene of the genitalia. [...] A prescription said to be used by Muslim women then follows.[...] The author gives detailed instructions on how to apply the water just prior to intercourse, together with a powder that the woman is supposed to rub on her chest, breasts, and genitalia. She is also to wash her partner’s genitals with a cloth sprinkled with the same sweet-smelling powder.
Wait so... hair care, skin and facial creams, toothpaste, lipstick, and sexual hygiene?? With the latter based on that used by Muslim women??? Zounds! How strange and unthinkable!
L’ornement des Dames, an Anglo-Norman text of the thirteenth century, offers more tips and tricks, and explicitly references the authority of both the Trotula and Muslim women: “I shall not forget either what I learnt at Messina from a Saracen woman. She was a doctor for the people of her faith [...] according to what I heard from Trotula of Salerno, a woman who does not trust her is a fool.” So yes. The beauty regimes of Muslim women were transmitted to and shared by Christian women, especially in diverse places like medieval Sicily, and this was valuable and trusted advice. Gee. It’s almost like women have always a) cared about their appearance, and b) united to flip one giant middle finger at the patriarchy. (You can also read more about skincare and cosmetics.) Speaking of female health authorities, you have definitely (or you should have) heard of Hildegard von Bingen, a twelfth-century abbess and towering genius who was the trusted advisor of kings and popes and wrote treatises on everything from music to medicine to natural science (she is regarded as the founder of the discipline in Germany). This included the vast Physica, a handbook on health and medicine, and Causae et curae, another medical textbook.
Did the church grumble and gripe about women putting on excessive adornments and being too fixated by makeup and the dangers of vanity and etc etc? You bet they did. Did women ignore the hell out of this and wear makeup and fancy clothes anyway? You bet they damn well did. Also, medieval society was fuckin’ obsessed with fashion (especially in the fourteenth century.) The sumptuary laws, which appeared for the first time in the late thirteenth and early fourteenth centuries, regulated which classes of society were allowed to wear what (so that fancy furs and silks and jewels were reserved for the nobility, and less expensive cloth and trimming were the province of the lower classes -- the idea was that you could know someone’s station in life just by looking at them). These were insanely detailed, and went down to regulating the height of someone’s high heels. So yes, theoretically, the stiletto police could stop you in fourteenth-century England, whip out a measuring tape, and see if you were literally too big for your britches.
(”But, but,” you stammer. “Surely they had rotten teeth?” Well, this is probably a bad time to note that in addition to the five toothpaste remedies mentioned in the Trotula, there are even more. Jewish and Muslim natural philosophers and herbalists had all kinds of recommendations -- see Practical Materia Medica of the Medieval Eastern Mediterranean. Also, since there was no processed sugar in their diet, their dentistry was far better than, say, the Elizabethans, and white and regular teeth were highly prized. There would be wear and tear from grist, but since fine-milled white bread was a status symbol, the wealthy could afford to have bread that did not contain it, and thus good teeth.)
Of course, everyone wasn’t just getting dressed up with, so to speak, nowhere to go. What about sex? It never happened unless it was marital rape, right? (/side-eyes a certain unnamed quasi-medieval television show). Oh no. Medieval people loved the shit out of sex. Pastourelles were an immensely popular poetic genre which almost always included the protagonist having a romp with a pretty shepherdess, and anyone who’s read any Chaucer knows how bawdy it can get. Even Chaucer, however, is put to shame by the fabliaux, which are a vast collection of Old French poems that have titles so ribald that I could not say them aloud to an undergraduate class. (”The Ring That Controlled Erections” and “The Peekaboo Priest” are about the tamest that I can think of, but I gotta say I’m fond of “Long Butthole Berengier” and the one called simply “The Fucker,” because literally people are people everywhere and always. And yes, you perverted person, you can read the lot of them here.) This was incredibly explicit and bawdy popular literature that was pretty much exactly medieval porn (and like usual porn, did not exactly serve as any kind of precursor of feminist media or positive female representation, but Misogyny, Take a Shot.)
So yes. Once more (surprise!) the history of cosmetics goes back at least six thousand years, and is one of the oldest aspects of documented social history in the world. It existed broadly and accessibly in the medieval world, where women had other women writing books on it for them, and was just as much as a concern as it is now. People have always liked to look good, smell good, accessorize, dress fashionably, try weird beauty trends, and so forth. So if by some accident you do stumble into a time machine and end up in medieval Europe, you’ll have plenty of choices. Our medieval foremothers, and the men who loved them and thought they were beautiful, thank you for your time.
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ghxst-princee · 7 years ago
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Yes [Part One]
~•~
- Ship: Markhyuck (Mark X Donghyuck/Haechan)
- Date written: April 6, 2018
- Word count: 2978
- Part Two
~•~
High school was never a place for long term relationships, it was never a place for real love or feelings to blossom, it wasn't a place for anything other than success and the attempts at having fun while doing so. High school wasn't Hell like many movies and storybooks made it out to be, but it surely wasn't Heaven. However, that doesn't mean there couldn't be one person in such a place that makes it feel like Heaven, makes it feel w o r t h it.
     For Mark, this person came in the form of a devious, red haired male by the name of Donghyuck.
         It came in vile words that strung out in sarcastic insults, pranks, anything to anger or get under someone's skin. More specifically, Mark's skin.
He was a year younger than Mark, grade 10 and for some reason, this was the first year he'd seen him, noticed him. This was the first year High School felt a little bit like Heaven.
They were first introduced after Mark's friend, Jaehyun met him in music. Jaehyun wouldn't stop complaining over how "unfair it is that someone two years younger can hit high notes better than me!" and that was enough to catch Mark's interest.
     Jaehyun was a good, no, an amazing vocalist so someone better, someone y o u n g e r had been unheard of.
          Until now.
When Jaehyun finally introduced the pair, Donghyuck named himself royalty and commanded Mark to get on his knees and kiss his feet. More specifically his worn down white converse that looked like they had trudged to the end of the world and back about five different times.
    Long story short, Mark didn't do it and had quickly become irritated with the younger male.
         Thus leading to Donghyuck becoming irritated.
              By the time the two had practically stomped away from each other in a (dramatic) fit of annoyance with the mere fact that the other was still breathing the same air, Jaehyun had been more than hopelessly confused.
They both agreed that they would never meet again. Never talk again, look at each other, even b r e a t h e near one another.
    But then a fall evening full of cars and rowdy laughter outside a drive in movie happened, and Mark and Donghyuck were in the same premise again.
         It wouldn't have been so bad (good) if they had just stayed with who they came with, Mark with his friends and Donghyuck with his, expect that Taeyong had spotted the group of younger kids across the lot and just h a d to squish one of their cheeks (the victim of such actions ended up being Jisung).
So they were stuck, car beside truck, open trunk beside backside, group beside group, Mark beside Donghyuck.
     "I'm sorry for the way our meeting went last time."
          "Whatever."
               "Should we try again?"
                     "No."
                         They didn't talk again aside for a "Goodbye" passed through the tense air when the two groups went their separate ways.
The third time they met was at school again, fourth period lunch to be specific. This meeting was again, coincidental, as if fate wasn't planning on giving up until they became friends, best friends...maybe even lovers.
     The third time was when Donghyuck had strolled, ever so casually, into the cafeteria that he wasn't supposed to be in (considering he had c l a s s right now-!) and slammed down a work sheet beside Taeil's food.
          "I don't understand."
             "Go ask your teacher, get to
             class!"
                  "I don't like my class."
                      "You can't just skip!"
                          "Just help me and I'll go back-!"
                               Taeil refused.
                                  But Mark didn't.
It was math, something Mark had never been overly strong in but he did pass it last year, so he must know at least something of worth and with the amazed expression Donghyuck looked at him with, he figured he at least knew more than Donghyuck did. That was really all that mattered, wasn't it?
They had finished it pretty quickly, Mark finding some pride in himself with the way he had managed to explain each question in terms that could actually make sense and not just be a bunch of jumbled up mathematical terms, Donghyuck seemed to appreciate it as well.
     Yeah, maybe Mark might have appreciated, no, e n j o y e d some other things as well; like the way Donghyuck had gradually moved himself closer to Mark until their thighs were just gently brushing. Or the way Donghyuck's golden hues seemed more focused on the brunette next to him than they were on the piece of paper he was supposed to be looking over.
          Yeah, maybe Mark enjoyed those moments too.
The third meeting seemed to end on better terms, with a simple "Thank you" and "I'll be sure to come to you again if I have other questions" before the red head had scurried off in the direction towards the class he was surely about to receive a detention for skipping out on mid-way.
     Surprisingly, it was there that they met for the fourth time.
"Goody two shoes Mark, in detention? I'm shocked."
     This time it was Mark who had rolled his eyes, he had successfully managed to forget half of his binders in his room after waking up late that morning, spilled coffee all over himself on the bus ride, and then tripped walking through the door. His day had not been the best to start with and arriving to his first class only to be greeted by a detention slip and the cackling laughter of his best friend Lucas beside him, really had shoved his mood off the happy track it was usually sent on.
          Unfortunately it seemed that Donghyuck didn't catch this, nor did it seem that he cared about the detention teacher's warning glares being shot his way every time he opened his mouth.
"What'd you do to get locked in here?"
   "Are you ignoring me? You're not supposed to ignore friends, Mark-hyung."
       "Oh, so I'm just a passing breeze to you then? I see how it is."
           "I don't need you anyways, I can entertain myself."
               "We're not even friends."
                   "Did you beat someone up? Ooh an evil Mark-hyung, I'd pay to see that. Wait! No! I could record it and post it on YouTube, then I'd be paid to see it."
                          "M a r k"
Until finally, "That's Hyung to you."
     Donghyuck at least groaned and threw his head back over the top of his chair in an act of over dramatic annoyance. It had remained relatively silent between the pair, much to Mark's liking, until about ten minutes to their release. That's when Donghyuck must have decided writing curse woods onto the wood of his desk with the lead of a pencil he found on the floor, must have become boring.
"Are you upset over something? I know it's not in my place to ask because we aren't...friends, or whatever, and I really don't care anyways but you just seem off? I know that sounds stupid but you're just...like, not Mark enough."
     "Not Mark enough?"
         "Yeah, not as smiley or obviously annoyed with me, not as cheerful, I guess."
           "I'm fine, Donghyuck...thanks, though."
              "Yeah, yeah, it's...it's whatever."
Things seemed to shift after that, it wasn't by much and it wouldn't be that obvious to other people but Mark noticed and maybe it had his heart fluttering, just maybe.
     Whenever the pair would pass by each other in the hallway, the smaller redhead would shoot Mark a little thumbs up, a fist in the air with words 'fighting!' mouthed in silence, sometimes it would even just be a simple smile (occasionally he'd add in a wink and Mark could feel himself falling apart at the seams) but whatever it was, Mark found himself treasuring it.
This brings out their next meeting, at volleyball practice out of everything it could have been. Donghyuck was definitely the last person Mark expected to see at a sport, ever. Nothing against him, of course, but after becoming decent friends with Donghyuck's best friend, Jeno, Mark had managed to learn a few things about the younger male, the first being he d e s p i s e d sports.
     So what was he doing at volleyball?
          It was a question Mark would like to know the answer to. However, approaching him and just asking like that would be rather rude, so maybe, he'd just wait.
                 Maybe he didn't have to.
"First detention, now volleyball, you're just full of surprises, aren't you?"
     "I could say the same about you, you don't seem like the type to like sports."
           "There's a lot of things you don't know about me, Mark Lee. Don't go judging a book by it's cover."
It had only taken a few moments until Donghyuck had begun to fake gag at the sound of his own words reaching his ears, mutters of "cliché", "disgusting", and "why did I say that?" leaving between the forced coughs.
     Yeah, okay, maybe Mark had laughed at that.
But it seemed that wasn't the end of Donghyuck's twisted humour making Mark break down into laughter, because the rest of the practice, that's all Mark seemed to do.
     At least, almost all he seemed to do, but there was one point where he found his attention getting drawn elsewhere. Getting drawn to something he'd never noticed about Donghyuck before but quickly fell in love with.
It was during their time running laps, Donghyuck lightly jogging in front of Mark, only glancing back at his friendly companion when he had reached a single digit out to point at the group of females across the field.
     "Hey, Mark, look, cheerleaders-! They're beautiful aren't they?"
          Except Mark didn't care about some grouping of girls, some cheerleaders because he was too focused on a pair of thighs. Muscular thighs that were covered in the most beautiful honey-kissed tan and a light dusting of freckles. Donghyuck's thighs.
                "Yeah...beautiful."
~ Part two
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