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Dress

c. 1864

Chicago Historical Society

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Evening dress, c. 1882 by House of Worth

Charles Frederick Worth is often referred to as the father of haute couture. The House of Worth was well known for its opulent designs.

This dress can be found in: the metropolitan museum of art

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Time to update my modern mods folder ‘cos mama misses decorating again

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"I will call her Ivy"

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"You are wondering why I am all on my own, no?" for she knew the good woman would wonder. "My husband passed 9 months ago in a collapse," Phoebe explained, blue eyes glassy. She did not like to explain, but did not want the woman to draw her own conclusions. "My father did not approve. So you see, I am quite alone."

"Oh, but that's terrible...and so young" said Midwife Ellis. Her own mind turned to faded memories of a husband long dead. "In the mines, you say?"

A contraction. A wince. A Sharp intake of breath. "Coal. He— Davey—" her voice broke. A hot tear finally grew too heavy to remain in her eye. Phoebe swallowed, but somehow it made it harder to speak.

"—said he didn't like being so far underground. But...we needed the money. More than he knew, as it turns out"

"Oh my dear..."

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A neighbor went for the midwife, and I am alone. A motherless...mother.

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I never anticipated going into labor alone.

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It is the end of Spring, and I find myself longing to quit Ravenwood. Here in this cottage, everything reminds me of you. I find myself confined to this plot of farmland as my pregnancy progresses for fear of judgement. You and I know this child is ours, but the town gossips do not. They will say I am lewd for lying with a man in my mourning. I know there will be gossips wherever I go, and yet... I long to start anew. I wonder...should I book passage to America? Should my baby be a little Yankee? Or should I take refuge on the warm shores of Tartosa? I should like to stomp on grapes and paint vivid landscapes of olive trees and cerulean water.

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Even with the loss of Lyara, Jaerym struggles to move on. Widowhood is still recent, so dedicating oneself to small-scale farming is the best alternative. Spending time at work helps him forget a little about the pain, the absence of his wife.

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"You are positively enormous!" Exclaimed cousin Julia. Phoebe laughed. The babe in her womb fluttered.

"I am half-terrified the Watcher has given me twins."

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"Oh Davey," Phoebe whispered. Her eyes stung and her voice broke. "If you could see me now. If you could see us now."

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Daily, Phoebe's waist grew larger. Daily, her funds dwindled. Never had she taken so many household duties on herself. This was not a thing Phoebe's mother would ever advise; she would insist it was bad for mother and baby. What else was Phoebe to do? If she did not feed the chickens, milk the cows, and tend to her small garden— who would? If Phoebe did not keep the larder full, she would not have the strength to bear a child nor the monies to pay the parish tax. She simply could not afford a maid or a charwoman to help carry her burden. She knew she had to keep going or drown.

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Y’all may see some variation in my decades and 19th century posts (: it’s because I’m experimenting with different ways to display dialogue and tell a story.

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once again maxis is turning my head with yet another pack I’m afraid will be mid (but I haven’t touched businesses and hobbies yet so maybe should make my sim own a business lol)

p.s I have trotwood updates I just gotta put together and queue ‘em (-:

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Phoebe did not want to admit that maybe her cousin Julia had a point. And yet, she still could not bring herself to the thought of marrying a man who was not Davey. She just wanted to leave. To start over again, to not be the widow Trotwood; single mother, fallen daughter, and lost woman. This was not supposed to be how things went. Davey was not supposed to leave her.