#Redfern

[costumeloverz71]

Dinner dress, 1909–11. Design House Redfern.

[lookingbackatfashionhistory]

• Riding Habit.

Date: 1912

Designer/Maker: Redfern

Place of origin: London

[chic-a-gigot]

Les Modes : revue mensuelle illustrée des arts décoratifs appliqués à la femme, no. 13, vol. 2, 1 janvier 1902, Paris. Robe de dîner "du Barry". Redfern. Bibliothèque nationale de France

[omgthatdress]

Walking Suit

Redfern, 1908

The Victoria & Albert Museum

[fripperiesandfobs]

Redfern walking suit ca. 1900

From Kerry Taylor Auctions

[mote-historie]

Louis Strimpl, Le Frisson nouveau (The New Thrill). Robe de tango de John Redfern, La Gazette du Bon ton, 1914

[thesweetnessofspring]

In a modern-day version of The Blue Castle I think Redfern would be an essential oil company.

[gogmstuff]

1908 (July issue) Les Modes - Robe de diner par Redfern - photo by Reutlinger. From gallica.bnf.fr; fixed flaws & spots w Pshop 1538X2101.

[legendarytragedynacho]

The Adverts - L-R: Lorry Driver, TV Smith, Gaye Advert and Howard Pickup

Photo by Ian Dickson/Redferns via Getty Images

[tcr55]

The entrance to this house is in front of me, on the side of the building, and I’m standing in Sidecroft Park. A very cute tiny park and a much nicer entry point than the front.

The address places this home on Bourke Street in Sydney’s Redfern.

[fivepoolsclans-archive]

Rootstar's Leader Ceremony

Newleaf - Moon 0 - Year 0

Rootember stared down at her paws, her eyes distant to thought, memory, and anxiety. The Cave of Hidden Stars lies just ahead, its maw wide open in the ground. Tonight was going to mark an important night in Rootember’s life; tonight, if all went well, she would receive her nine lives and become HavenClan’s new leader.

Life has not been easy in recent seasons. Cats grew restless, wanting to stretch their paws and bring back the days of old. Times from before the Calamity had struck all four Clans, bringing devastation and threats to their way of life. They say that there had been so few cats after the disaster that what was left of all four Clans had to merge in order to survive. That became HavenClan.

So why go back? Why war over each other like they had before? Why risk another Calamity?

“Rootember!” She looked up to see Figdream’s golden face pop out of the opening of the cave’s tunnel. Even on a night as dark as this, the medicine cat’s bright blue eyes were hard to miss. “They’re ready.”

The Elders once passed on tales of how the cats used to not need an invite before talking to StarClan. Rootember couldn’t understand why not; it seemed rude to walk into their ancestors’ den uninvited. It was the duty of the medicine cat to look for these invitations, and safekeep who goes in and out– to protect the camp that StarClan claimed in the living world. It’s also where the medicine cats would meet every half moon.

Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, Rootember followed Figdream inside the den, saying goodbye to the cool outside breeze as they plunged into the stale damp air below. They padded on a declining slope. Rootember had to dig her claws into the earth to help keep herself from slipping. Figdream rested his tail on her shoulder, helping to guide the to-be leader until the ground leveled out.

“Hey Figdream,” Rootember mewed softly. She didn’t want to speak too loudly, in case it wrongfully disturbed the spirits of their ancestors before they were ready. “Do you ever feel like you might not be cut out for something? Like you’re not ready for what you have to experience, like it’s too soon?”

“Sure,” the younger tom answered. He looked back at her, hardly able to make her out in the dimness of the tunnel. “This is the first time I’ve guided a leader through StarClan’s den for them to receive their lives. I’ve come here many times before, but I wasn’t sure if I had the courage to make it tonight. This is a big deal, you know? But there will always be a first time for everything. There’s rarely a time when it’ll be soon enough for anyone.”

Rootember dipped her head, appreciative for Figdream’s council. He was right. She had to do this, for the safety of the Clan. “Who do you think will be here tonight?”

Figdream let out a quiet puff of laughter, “You know I can’t tell you that.”

Before long, the tunnel narrowed and the two cats came across a strange rectangular stone sitting on rounded paws. It smelled bitter, and the faint scent of Twolegs and dust clung to it– a sign of bygone times when Twolegs frequented the tunnel. It was wedged sideways in the center of the pathway, though it left just enough room at the side for the cats to squeeze through. There was a small opening in the wall on the other side

“You got this,” Figdream smiled and nodded encouragingly. Rootember butted her head against his, then quickly turned to enter the opening.

The tunnel here was small and cramped. Rootember flinched as the walls closed in enough that it could be felt on her whiskers on either side. Luckily, this tunnel was short, and the walls opened up to reveal a small barely lit chamber full of pointed rocks. On all walls, and some of the pointed rocks, there were smaller colorful specks that seemed to glow in the dark and twinkle like stars. With every pawstep that Rootember took, everything seemed to be alive with a dancing shimmer, as if this cave had been able to steal away a piece of Silverpelt.

This is the Cave of Hidden Stars. StarClan cats would leave Silverpelt and visit their sacred den just to talk to HavenClan. Rootember swallowed a lump in her throat, the normally-calm cat awestruck and nervous of the beauty around her. She approached the back wall of glittering stone-bound stars and tucked her paws under her, touching her nose to the wall. Her growling stomach made it hard to clear her mind to sleep, but the exhaustion of the journey did it for her.

When Rootember opened her eyes again, she was in the same chamber but washed in a spectral blue color. Where there had been only Rootember before, now the cave was alive with starry cats stirring from their nests. Rootember’s breath caught in her chest at the sight of fallen friends old and new, family and loved ones, and other ghosts that she had never met.

One of the many starry cats approaches her, though is someone Rootember doesn’t recognize. The stranger was a beautiful white she-cat with brown spots speckling her back and face, her tail ringed with stripes matching the color of her spots. Rootember could feel her heart pulse in her ears as the she-cat’s pale blue eyes made contact with hers. Whoever this cat was, it was clear that she commanded the air around her.

“My name is Redfern,” she said, something about her voice made her feel familiar like an old friend. Warm and welcoming, confident and sure. “You meet me tonight, but the cats under your care will all meet me one day when they join the stars. For now,” she pressed her nose to Rootember’s forehead. A chill ran through the brow she-cat as a feeling indescribable ran through her, making her shiver from head to toe as if leaf-bare had swept through the cavern. “Take this gift, to help you endure in the face of hardship.”

Redfern then stepped back, allowing the other cats in the cavern to share their remaining 8 lives. Rootember couldn’t help but notice some uncertain looks shared between some of the cats, as if they knew something she didn’t. Did they believe in her? Would she make it as Clan leader? But soon, the old leader of HavenClan stepped forward to bless Rootember with another life. All anxious doubts soon melted away.

It felt like several days and nights had passed before the ceremony was finished. Rootember was trembling with the newfound power of nine lives at her paw tips, her chest heaving as she shoulders the intensity and pain that came with each soul that entered her body. But she stood strong and proud, lifting her head up high. Some of the StarClan cats mewed with approval.

“I hail you by your new name,” Redfern purred with a glint in her eye that Rootember could not quite discern. “Rootstar, your old life is no more. You have now received the nine lives of a leader, and StarClan grants you the guardianship of HavenClan. Defend it well; care for the young and old; honor your ancestors and the tradition of the warrior code; live each life with pride and dignity.” Then, the beautiful StarClan cat stepped forward, her muzzle right next to Rootstar’s ear. “Our way of life depends on you and the choices you will make. Don’t disappoint.”

Redfern pulled away and lifted her head high, “Rootstar! Rootstar!”

Soon the other cats followed, chanting Rootstar’s new name with pride and vigor. It was over before long, as in a heartbeat the ghostly cats were gone. Rootstar was quick to wake, her new name echoing in her ears as she was cast in darkness yet again.

And yet, the voice that echoed the loudest was Redfern’s words: don’t disappoint.

[thewondermentofillustration]

Sir Arthur Ernest Streeton (1867–1943) - The Railway Station, Redfern, New South Wales, Australia, 1893, oil on canvas

[lookingbackatfashionhistory]

• Costume for Ganna Walska as Zazà in 'Zazà', Act II; Woman's Dress.

Designer/Artists: Redfern (England, London, circa 1855-1929); Erté (Romain de Tirtoff) (Russia, active France and United States, 1892-1990)

Date: 1920

Medium: Painted silk, chiné silk

[fashionsfromhistory]

Coat

Redfern

c.1912

National Museum of Scotland

[ahomeartgallery]

Ceramics by Alichia van Rhijn showing at Home.

The gallery will be open Saturday from 2-5pm or by appointment. Pictured is Daydream Believer #4, 2023, glazed earthenware (has an internal component that rattles)

[awindinthelantern]

Costume for Ganna Walska as Violetta Valéry, 'La Traviata', 1923

Redfern (English, London, circa 1855-1929) & Erté (Romain de Tirtoff) (Russian, active France and United States, 1892-1990)