#Junon ball gown

[etoiiie]

𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒂𝒏 𝑫𝒊𝒐𝒓'𝒔 𝒇𝒂𝒎𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝑱𝒖𝒏𝒐𝒏 𝒃𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒈𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 1949

-----------°♡

[lacetulle]

Dior gowns are some of my favorites! If you happen to be a fan as well, what are some of your top picks? Love your blog :)

I love Dior! I got into the label when John Galliano was at the helm, so his over the top couture gowns are some of my favorites. I also always seem to put the two red dresses in lists, but they’re honestly two of my all time favorites.  If I ever had an occasion that called for a ball gown in my life, I would want one from the 2012 collection. It was hard to pick my favorites because there are so many, but these are the ten that I would love to wear myself (except the Junon and Venus dresses, since I don’t think anyone is allowed to wear those).

Dior by John Galliano Custom Gown 2008 Spring/Summer 2012 Couture Pre-Fall 2018 Spring/Summer 2018 Couture Fall/Winter 2008 Couture Fall/Winter 2000 Couture Spring/Summer 2017 Couture Spring/Summer 2007 Couture Spring/Summer 2009 Couture ‘Junon’ and ‘Venus’ Fall/Winter 1949 Couture

[wordsofsplendor]

Such an Almighty Sound

Inspired by Florence + the Machine’s spectacularly epic songs “Drumming Song” and “Cosmic Love”. Have a listen. :) Also, yes, I’ve been into the notion of new relationships lately. Don’t mind me.

They’ve been friends for over eight months. It was an odd relationship, that - profound affection disguised as friendship. In other words, it was the most intense love of her existence that was yet to find its outlet. As it was, their platonic companionship was making her both ecstatic and desperate. The ache in her belly was now a constant, relentless reminder of her need for him. And he knew.

But there was something about that bubble of theirs that she didn’t have the bravery to risk in order to pursue what she’d been craving for months on end. She knew - he loved her back. He loved her more than anything and he manifested his adoration in ways so grand, they made her feel inadequate sometimes. Just last week he’d flown from Gotham all the way to her home city just to spend a day with her. A day and evening, that is. The night, however, he decided to spend at a hotel. She wanted to protest, truly, she did. However, she thought that the prospect of her offering Bruce her couch for the night would’ve been devastatingly foolish. So she tried her best to memorize every fine line on his neck and every wrinkle at the corners of his eyes as he bid her goodnight. Goodness, to be loved so deeply by someone she wasn’t even intimate with was otherworldly, the true epitome of joy. How does one abandon such a precious sanctuary? So, that was that, then. She was going to love him and have him love her in return until she perished from the lack of physical and emotional release. A small price to pay, she often concluded.

He invited her to be his plus one to an important gala and she tried not to agree far too quickly, not to seem far too eager. But she felt a sense of silly pride whenever she could support his work and initiatives. And yes, it was delightful whenever they were seen together in public. She relished in her imaginary ownership of this monumental man who, as she often feared, was out of her league but who loved her like mad anyway. So, she said yes. Rather quickly.

“You’ve sourced Monsieur Dior’s Junon?” she asked in disbelief as she gazed at the ball gown before her. Oh, he knew her, he knew her all too well and she was taken aback by how much he cared about her insignificant, shallow interests. He was kindness and generosity; he was made of good things only, she often thought; he was, quite simply, her cosmic love.

She was talking to several of his associates, mingling on the balcony while he was busy enticing other guests.

They were never too affectionate in public, their private touches that were often on the cusp of making them lovers were reserved for their alone time. Truly, she’d never know what it was that caused for him to wrap his arms and coat around her frame, before the very eyes of thousands of people. He greeted those keeping her company and nestled his jaw against her head. More than anything, she wanted to turn around and examine his facial expressions, to understand, make sure he was sober. Instead, she remained motionless, warm and loved.

“Are you warm enough?” She simply squeezed the hand that was holding her shoulder and didn’t let go.

The end of their odd not-quite-friendship was near, she sensed. It made her want to cry of sorrow and joy all at once.