#Bruno Magli

[kitsunetsuki]

Bruno Magli Shoes Ad (Vogue Italia 1970)

[chicinsilk]

US Vogue July 1974

Two-piece set in burgundy and beige wool by Geoffrey Beene. The easy little sweater that hits the hip. In Agnona fabric. Hat by Don Anderson for Scheer Bros. Earrings and bracelets, Catherine Stein. Clutch, Falchi-Sebiri, tights, Belle-Sharmaer, shoes, Bruno Magli. Makeup, Way bandy, hairstyle, Suga.

Ensemble deux pièces en laine bordeaux et beige de Geoffrey Beene. Le petit pull facile qui touche la hanche. En tissu Agnona. Chapeau de Don Anderson pour Scheer Bros. Boucles d'oreilles et bracelets, Catherine Stein. Clutch, Falchi-Sebiri, collants, Belle-Sharmeer, chaussures, Bruno Magli. Maquillage, Way bandy, coiffure, Suga.

Photo Arthur Elgort vogue archive

[forcedfemme-me]

Doutzen Kroes For Bruno Magli Spring 2013

[teenagedirtstache]

[codesquire]

7 unsolicited PAC texts for the GOP.

Daddy Andy has them quaking in their Bruno Maglis.

(That's still a thing, right? Bruno Maglis? Or did OJ kill that for them?)

[helloosmosis]

Bruno Magli Venetian loafers

[streussal]

Response to the OJ Simpson anon. I was confused to receive this, but I'll try to respond in good faith:

Copy + Paste of what I got in my inbox (under a cut because it's so long (not doing a screenshot because it would take 3 screens)

The Court TV docuseries OJ25 (2020) is the best and most truthful account of the trial. 2016 Vulture interview with juror Sheila Woods: I guess maybe black people cheering was less about O.J. and more about the politics of the LAPD at the time, police brutality. A lot of their catharsis was bigger than O.J. I can understand that. But at the end of the day, two people were murdered. I think most people thought we based our decision on race. Race never came up in the topic of our deliberation, or even how the LAPD treated black people. Like, regarding Fuhrman, none of his comments really … The thing with Fuhrman was once his credibility was shot, you really could discount anything he said. He was definitely a liar — he lied on the stand — and when he came back to the court, he took the fifth on everything. Why would you trust anything he said? He was the detective that found all this evidence: the blood on the Bronco, on the back fence, on the glove … all of that created reasonable doubt. Was there a moment in particular during the trial that really swayed your decision towards reasonable doubt? Yeah, when they started talking about the blood evidence. There was, like, a milliliter of blood they couldn’t account for. And they found blood on the back fence of Nicole’s condo, and that particular blood also had the additive in there. That additive is only found in [a test tube of blood], so why would the blood sample on that back fence contain that additive unless somebody took the blood from the test tube and placed it there? Do you think O.J. was framed? I don’t know if he was necessarily framed. I think O.J. may know something about what happened, but I just don’t think he did it. I think it was more than one person, just because of the way she was killed. I don’t know how he could have just left that bloody scene — because it was bloody — and got back into his Bronco and not have it filled with blood. And then go back home and go in the front door, up the stairs to his bedroom … That carpet was snow white in his house. He should have blood all over him or bruises because Ron Goldman was definitely fighting for his life. He had defensive cuts on his shoes and on his hands. O.J. only had that little cut on his finger. If [Goldman] was kicking to death, you would think that the killer would have gotten some bruises on his body. They showed us photos of O.J. with just his underwear just two days after, and he had no bruises or anything on his body.

Anon I am not sure why you sent me this. I have two posts tagged OJ Simpson, from April 12 & 13 of this year (a few days after his death).

One, a link to an article Andrea Dworkin wrote about Nicole Brown Simpson and domestic violence.

Two, a poll asking "did o.j. do it?" on which my tags were: #yes #but also one of the main police detectives was recorded being very racist in interviews with a journalist a few years earlier #(and cops are generally racist but this was a lot)#and there was an inconsistency in records of how much blood was drawn from oj for dna samples#and the transporting officer dropped by the crime scene before delivering the blood to evidence#which lends credence to the evidence planting theory#(it was a tiny inconsistency but like. that is not proper evidence handling)#also the prosecution fucked up a few times#so like. it makes sense why he was acquitted#(and again: he did it. more stuff came in at the civil trial like the bruno magli shoes)#(but the jury finding reasonable doubt wasn't completely insane)

So I'm not sure if you were just sending it to let me know about a true crime series that I might like, and giving more info on jury opinions?? In which I case I'm a little confused by the timing, but sure, why not. I hope this was not a "actually OJ was innocent" thing you just me though. I have trouble telling.

[chickensarentcheap]

Oh what the hell...one more!

@tragiclyhip @munstysmind @muchadoaboutcj @secretaryunpaid @youflickedtooharddamnit @mrsmungus @residentdormouse @themaradaniels @asirensrage @thesirenrealm @ninjasawakenedmystar @starryeyes2000

Her fingers trace each hole and every frayed edge.  The sweater was the one thing she’d refused to leave behind;  frantically searching through both clean and dirty laundry baskets and then hastily shoving it into the lone backpack she and Millie had fled with.  Choosing those stains and imperfections over the most expensive garments in her closet; the memories attached to it far more important than any price tag or designer label. Alessio had always nagged her to get rid of it;  it was far too big on her petite frame, far too messy with its stains and its puckers and tears,  far too ‘poor looking’.   Despite refusing to get too deeply involved with his family’s illegal doings,  he put far too much emphasis on being one of the ‘elite’;  obsessed with the image that he not only presented and maintained,  but she and Millie as well.  

The latter he complained about often;  her hair was too wild and untamed,  she was too loud and vibrant and should be ‘seen and not heard’, and he was ‘disgusted’ by her penchant for mixing the frilliest of dresses with the sloppiest of footwear.   Millie had been devastated when he’d taken it upon himself to throw out her beloved light-up Spiderman sandals while she’d been at school;  crying herself to sleep as her mother cuddled her tight and tried her very best to console her.  The next morning, Esme had made it a point of replacing the shoes;  buying two pairs and then boldly setting them right in the midst of all of Alessio’s Hugo Boss and Bruno Magli loafers.  He had crossed a line and she refused to let it slip;  no one disrespected her daughter and got away with it.   Those sandals representing everything that is beautiful and perfect about her little girl. Carefree and confident, vibrant and creative,  feisty and resilient.  And no one was going to strip her of those things and turn her into a watered-down version of who she was meant to be.

[billscheft]

Of course, the day after OJ dies, all I can think of are two jokes, neither written by me, and neither having to do with the murders. The first one, a Dave monologue closer, was written by Gabe Abelson. It was inspired when a photographer in Buffalo had uncovered hundreds of photos he took of OJ at Rich Stadium wearing the infamous Bruno Magli loafers. Dave's payoff, as I remember it: "And this is great. If you take all the photos, and just riffle the corner, it looks like OJ's doing the Macarena....." The second joke was written by Adrianne and done in her act as long as she could do it, which was not very long. There was an item on Page Six in the Post that OJ wheelman Al Cowlings had been spotted at Scores, "Where he got several lap dances and a horoscope reading...." Adrianne would then close her eyes and turn up her hands, like a psychic, and say, "You will be getting....an erection."

[thelolitalookbook]

Lulu

Casual plum teddy print coord

JSK - Axes Femme

Shirt - Emily Temple Cute

Bag - To Alice

Shoes - GIANNA MELIANI.

Socks - Angelic Pretty

KC - u.Rtto

Jewelry - Offbrand

Nail Polish - Essie

Watch - Bruno Magli

[peacedtogether]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Vintage Bruno Magli - Italian Leather Pointed Toe Shiny Heels.

[redcliffscloset]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Bruno Magli Bucine Pointed Toe Patent Leather Boot Women's 7 Mid Calf Dark Gray.

[chicinsilk]

US Vogue July 1968

Ann Turkel wears a loose black gabardine cape, thrown over a white ruffled cotton cambric shirt. Black pants in matching gabardine with a satin side band. Cape and trousers By Victor Joris. Jax shirt. Bruno Magli pumps. Hairstyle arranged by Christiaan Houtenbos of Coiffures Americana.

Ann Turkel porte une ample cape noire en gabardine, jetée sur une chemise blanche en batiste de coton à volants. Pantalon noir en gabardine assortie avec une bande latérale en satin. Cape et pantalon Par Victor Joris. Chemise Jax. Escarpins Bruno Magli. Coiffure arrangée par Christiaan Houtenbos de Coiffures Americana.

Photo Irving Penn vogue archive

[x-ceirios-x]

City of Lost Souls, Chapter 19: Love and Blood

please see the masterlist for notes about this series/collection of works

The moment Sebastian was gone, Clary reached for one of Jace’s leather jackets. She slipped it on, taking comfort in the warmth and the familiar smell of him. She slid her feet into shoes and crept out into the hallway, wishing for a stele and a new Soundless rune. She could hear water running downstairs and Sebastian’s off-key whistling, but her own footsteps still sounded like cannon explosions in her ears. She crept along, keeping close to the wall, until she reached Sebastian’s door and slid inside. 

It was dim, the only illumination the ambient city light coming from the windows, whose curtains were pulled back. It was a mess, just as it had been the first time she’d been in it. She started with his closet, stuffed full of expensive clothes—silk shirts, leather jackets, Armani suits, Bruno Magli shoes. On the floor of the closet was a white shirt, wadded up and stained with blood—blood old enough to have died to brown. Clary looked at it for a moment and shut the closet door. 

She set herself to the desk next, pulling out drawers, rifling through papers. She'd rather hoped for something simple, like a lined piece of notebook paper with My Evil Plan written across the top, but no luck. There were dozens of papers with complex numerical and alchemical figuring on them, and even a piece of stationery that began My beautiful one in Sebastian’s cramped handwriting. She spared a moment to wonder who on earth Sebastian’s beautiful one could be—she hadn’t thought of him as someone who ever had romantic feelings about anyone—before turning to the nightstand by his bed. 

She pulled open the drawer. Inside was a stack of notes. On top of them, something glimmered. Something circular and metallic. 

Her faerie ring. 

She took it and placed it on her finger, wanting to contact Simon as quickly as possible. He was probably worried sick. Simon? she tried, to no answer. She cursed under her breath and decided to try again when something broke her focus. 

Somewhere behind her, she swore she heard someone cough. 

Clary whirled around to face the rest of the room to see no one there. Strange, she thought, and was about to make for the door when she heard it again. A muffled cough. 

“Hello?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. What was there? Who was there? She heard it again. Finally, she found the source of the noise as her eyes trained on the wall next to her, the same wall as Sebastian’s closet. Slowly, a glamor began to peel itself away. It was a strong one—enough that she barely caught sight of the doorknob before it tried to fix itself and block her from seeing it. She raced for the door and threw it open. 

The small room, if she could even call it that, was the same size as the closet next to it, no doubt sharing a wall. The ceiling was the same height and it held the same, emerald green wallpaper. It could have been another closet, she figured, if someone would have been sharing a room with him. It was the master suite, after all. Rather than full of expensive clothes, however, she was met with the sight of something—someone, curled up on the floor, their head in their hands. He had reddish brown, mousy curls, matted with blood, as was the child’s clothes. It had to be a child, she realized, and gasped. 

She crashed to her knees and gently touched the boy’s shoulder. He rolled, ever so slowly, and she saw him wince as his face turned toward her. 

“Jensen,” she said, brushing a bit of hair out of his eyes. He was thin, terribly thin like he was barely fed, and had small cuts and scrapes on his face that looked to be healing slowly. She let out a shuddering breath. 

He blinked a few times, his eyes adjusting to the light, “Clary?” He asked, his voice hoarse like he’d been screaming. She wondered if Sebastian had been torturing him and how so. 

“Oh, oh my God, you’re alive,” she said, all of the air expelling from her lungs as she leaned down to hug him. She’d only met Jensen a few times, but she understood how integral he was to the New York Institute and the family there. She understood Rowan’s desperation in looking for their brother, and even Alec and Isabelle’s. She understood Maryse’s grief in losing not only one child but then two disappearing suddenly. He sucked air through his teeth and whimpered in pain. She pulled off of him immediately. “I–I've been here for days, I’m so sorry I didn’t find you sooner—”

“Sebastian,” he said, slowly beginning to sit up. She wished for a stele again, wanting to heal his injuries. She remembered the first day they’d met when she was going to find Jace in the Silent City with Alec, Isabelle, and Rowan. He’d applied runes on each of them in preparation for the mission—the mission he’d begged to go on, but was told that he was too young. Was he too young now? He’ll be one hell of a Shadowhunter, Isabelle had said. I guarantee it. Shadowhunters were soldiers, Sue, but he was just a boy. He didn’t deserve all this. Her hands shook as she brushed hair from his eyes delicately.

“What about him?” she said, offering her hand to help him stand. He started to, though he leaned on her heavily. She wondered when the last time he’d even stood was. 

“You have to stop him, Clary,” he said. “He’s planning something terrible, I heard him talking to Jace about it. Jace–he’s evil, Clary, you don't understand—”

“Hey, hey,” she said, catching his face gently in her hand. She helped keep him upright with the other. “Jace has a rune. A demonic one that keeps him connected to Sebastian. He’s not evil, he’s doing whatever Sebastian wants him to.”

“Jace is being mind controlled?” he asked incredulously. 

They reached the doorway of the closet together and he shifted his weight to lean against the trim. This had to all be overwhelming for him. Clary saw him in the better light now. The hollows of his cheeks were deep and she could see veins in his neck and arms, along with the bruises and scrapes that littered the visible skin. His clothes were torn and tattered and he smelled overwhelmingly like blood. She wondered what Sebastian had done to him, and what injuries she couldn’t see. She needed to talk to Simon, to make sure he knew Jensen was alive, and to tell him everything Jace had told her about this ceremony. They had to know Sebastian’s plan, and Rowan had to know their brother was still breathing.

“I have to talk to Simon,” she said, fidgeting with the ring on her finger. “He needs to know what’s going on. But I promise, I’ll explain everything as soon as we get out of here, okay?”

He nodded stiffly. She turned and, in her mind, reached out to Simon again. 

[donnacorless]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Bruno Magli Vintage Black Narrow Pumps 9AA.

[laurism1]

Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Bruno Magli Vintage Block Heel Slip On Shoes.