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annarellix · 1 year

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Cozy Craft Mystery Series by Millie Ravensworth

This a general review so I will talk about the series and about the single instalments.

I love cosy mystery and have been reading them since I read the first Lilian Jackson Braun and was involved in mysteries featuring a quant town, lovely pets, and amateur detective/detective. My taste evolved and now, after years and a huge number of series I read, I’m quite spoiled and I know when I am going to love a series after a few pages. The Cosy Craft Mysteries were one of those series that are a lot of fun and solid mysteries. Penny, Izzy and the characters grew on me page after page, and I was fascinated by the descriptions of the fabrics and the tips and tricks of professional sewing. My sewing skill are very basic, but I always wanted to be like Izzy: creative, with a lot of skill in a manual craft, and a lovely person. Penny is more logical and business like, I wasn’t convinced at the beginning, but she grew on me. This a general review so I will talk about the series and about the single instalments.

The Wonderland Murders is a good start for a cosy series: even if it introduces places and characters it’s quite fast paced and there’s always something going and keeping your attention alive. I liked the solid mstery as it kept me guessing and surprised me with the twists. There’s a lot of culprits as the victim is not very likeable. I appreciated how the author described the bully and how you couldn’t help feeling for the women.

The Painted Lobster Murders is the second book in the series, a highly entertaining and compelling story since the first pages. We meet Monty the dog, a lovely character I loved. This is another solid and compelling mystery. There’s a lot going on in Penny and Izzy life and they’re developing business and managing the shop as Nan took the backseat. A fast paced and solid mystery that I thoroughly enjoyed and kept me guessing. My only note: I hate love triangle, it’s my cosy mystery pet peeve, and hope it will be solved soon

The Sequinned Cape Murders is the third in the series and I enjoyed it even if it’s not my favorite.. There’s more sewing than mystery but it’s also the one with Izzy under the spotlight and I thoroughly enjoyed this change. There’s romance, there’s another good mystery and the usual suspects.

The Swan Dress Murders is the fourth book in the series: another fast paced and entertaining mystery that kept me guessing. I was hoping that the love triangle was solved and hoped this is the last book with Penny who can’t decide. I enjoyed the story and the complex plot even if there’s my pet peeve but it’s not a main point in the story. Penny and izzy are a good couple of investigators and they’re investigation are well done. Another good story and the last published.

Average rating 4/5

The Wonderland Murders A quirky and funny series for fans of a good mystery and compelling characters. Can you solve the crime before our dressmaking duo? After losing her job at an exclusive London hotel, Penny Slipper is only too happy to help when her grandma asks her to take charge at the Cozy Craft sewing shop in charming rural Suffolk. With cousin Izzy on hand as the expert dressmaker and Penny’s head for business, what can possibly go wrong? But Penny’s in town for less than a day when the local librarian is poisoned and Penny fears she might even be accidentally responsible. Penny and Izzy are forced to turn detectives to uncover the true cause of death, while finishing a costume commission for their first customer. Matters take a further deadly turn when a second body is discovered. Can Penny and Izzy unpick the mysteries of the past and sew the pieces of this puzzle together before it’s too late? If you enjoy fast-paced mysteries, charming country towns and characters who you want to spend hours with then you’re going to love the Cozy Craft Mystery series. Start your next murder mystery adventure today!

Purchase Links Amazon UK - https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B0BH13Q1F4 Amazon US - https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0BH13Q1F4

The Painted Lobster Murders A quirky and funny series for fans of a good mystery and compelling characters. Can you solve the crime before our dressmaking duo? Penny Slipper runs a sewing shop in the beautiful market town of Framlingham and she’s got her wild and creative cousin, Izzy, to help with the latest dressmaking project. A classic car weekend is coming to town and stylish Fliss Starling wants an outfit that will match her husband’s elegant vintage car. When one of Fliss’s house guests is murdered by a masked intruder, Penny and Izzy have a deadly mystery to solve (as well as a dress to make!). With the aid of a cheeky little corgi dog and handyman Aubrey, they begin to search out the clues to this motor-related murder. But fingers are soon pointing at Penny and Izzy when the intruder’s mask appears to have come from their own shop! And rival shop owner, Carmella, would be delighted to see them take the blame. Can Penny and Izzy stitch the pieces of this puzzle together and find the guilty culprit? If you enjoy fast-paced mysteries, charming country towns and characters who you want to spend hours with then you’re going to love the Cozy Craft Mystery series. Start your next murder mystery adventure today!

Purchase Links Amazon UK - https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B0BH14F2P5 Amazon US - https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0BH14F2P5

The Sequinned Cape Murders Cozy Craft Mysteries can be read in any order. A funny whodunnit series, full of charming characters and mysteries that will keep you guessing to the very end. Things are going great for Penny Slipper. Running a sewing shop in the middle of the English countryside is like a dream come true and she’s got her colourful cousin Izzy and her corgi, Monty, to keep her entertained. Her grandma’s eightieth birthday is coming up soon and Penny and Izzy are busier than ever, making fancy dress costumes for the party guests. However, Penny’s dream life is thrown into chaos when a murdered woman is found in the bathroom of her cosy flat above the shop. With the doors and the windows all locked, no one can understand how this mystery corpse got there. But things take a further sinister turn when a local shopkeeper is also killed. There’s a murderer on the loose and no one is safe! Can Penny and Izzy uncover the answers and unmask the criminal in their midst? If your ideal book features mystery, friendship, cute romance, even cuter animals, crafting and a big slice of birthday cake then this is the book for you.

Purchase Links Amazon UK - https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B0BH16G6V8 Amazon US - https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0BH16G6V8

The Swan Dress Murders Cozy Craft Mysteries can be read in any order. A funny whodunnit series, full of charming characters and mysteries that will keep you guessing to the very end. A wedding is a cause for celebration. Not only do dressmakers Penny and Izzy get an invite to the big day but they have an unusual dress commission to complete for one of the guests. It seems Penny’s only problem is deciding which potential boyfriend to take as her plus-one guest — practical handyman Aubrey or cultured fabric expert Oscar. But bigger problems arise when the maker of the wedding cake is found dead in the grounds of the stately home where the wedding is to take place. And when another key individual in the wedding plans is also murdered, it seems like someone has deadly plans to prevent this marriage. Can Penny and Izzy unravel the mystery and solve this crime before the big day is fatally ruined? If your ideal book features mystery, friendship, cute romance, crafting and a charming rural setting then this is the book for you.

Purchase Links Amazon UK - https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B0BH14X68M Amazon US - https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0BH14X68M

The Author: Millie Ravensworth writes the Cozy Craft Mystery series of books. Her love of murder mysteries and passion for dressmaking made her want to write books full of quirky characters and unbelievable murders. Millie lives in central England where children and pets are something of a distraction from the serious business of writing, although dog walking is always a good time to plot the next book.

Social Media Links: https://www.facebook.com/MillieRavensworth https://twitter.com/MillieRavensews https://www.instagram.com/millieravensworth/

Giveaway Prize: The Wonderland Murders, a cross stitch book, a floral notepad, a note writing set and a grass bunny. https://kingsumo.com/g/h1kxu9/prize-for-cozy-mysteries-blog-tour

#cozy mystery #Cozy Craft Mystery Series #Rachel's Random Resources #Millie Ravensworth #review

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craterellus-cornucopioides · 3 years

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“Joan” 1998

The stark, industrial feel of the venue provided a foil to catwalk sets that were growing in complexity and intensity. Whereas McQueen toyed with water in his previous show, this time he invoked fire. McQueen had been struck by a Richard Avedon photograph that appeared in an editorial in the The New Yorker in November 1995 called ‘In Memory of the Late Mr and Mrs Comfort’. It inspired his most dramatic finale to date, in which a satanic ring of flames encircled a lone masked model in a red ensemble, which echoed flayed flesh, while the bugle bead skirt suggested dripping blood. Themes of martyrdom and persecution prevailed in a collection saturated with blood and violence. Glossy red snake skins and leathers hinted at bloodshed; tartans referenced the execution of Mary, Queen of Scots; haunting prints of the murdered Romanov children flickered over sequins on coats and dresses. Medieval references were present in chainmail garments and tailoring with features incorporated from ecclesiastical dress and double-fronted clerical coats with trompe l’oeil effect capes. The martyrdom McQueen was again praised for innovative tailoring. While a jacket was cut away at the rear to form a soft cowl back, a coat took on a trapezoidal form suggestive of origami. In another jacket, an inner metal frame held the arms outstretched, suggesting entrapment in the stocks, while the fantail at the back hinted at the possibility of escape through flight. McQueen’s love of nature and metamorphosis was identifiable in amphibious designs such as a tight python-skin dress, which formed a second skin over the model to merge human with animal. Hybridization was further reflected in Shaun Leane’s ‘Spine’ corset, which was cast from a human skeleton and extended into a tail-like structure, worn over a sparkling black dress. The uncomfortable fusion of human and animal was inspired by Richard Donner’s horror film The Omen (1976), in which a jackal gives birth to a child. A sense of brutality was also carried through in Leane’s ‘Jaw Bone’ mouthpieces, which were worn by male models and were suggestive of the reconstructive surgery that was pioneered on Second World War soldiers. A silver headpiece by Sarah Harmarnee offered commentary on the impact of weapons on the body; the metal blade that ran down the nose sitting threateningly close to the delicate skin of the face. in harnesses and skin-tight black leather dresses, face pieces crafted from metal and chains, and with long, silver talons that protruded from the hands. McQueen’s engagement with Old Master paintings offered an unexpected contrast in a jacket with sharp, wide shoulders, printed with a detail from Robert Campin’s painting depicting the The Thief to the Left of Christ from the Flémalle panels (c.1430), which appeared centrefold on the rear. The exaggerated shoulders were inspired by the work of McQueen’s assistant designer, Catherine Brickhill. McQueen collaborated with Nick Knight on the invitation which featured a digitally altered image of the model Debra Shaw. of Joan of Arc was manifested in an articulated armoured creation by Sarah Harmarnee that suggested portraits of the French heroine in her battle dress; it also recalled a Thierry Mugler armoured suit from 1995 titled ‘Robot Couture’. The collection was presented by models that appeared aggressive and untouchable in dark, powerful silhouettes. Red contact lenses lent an air of menace, as did the hooded tops, which bore a resemblance to bondage masks. The presence of such strong, fearless, sexualized women served as a counterpoint to the murder of innocents.

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swanlake1998 · 3 years

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Article: Julie Felix: the brilliant Black ballerina who was forced to leave Britain

Date: March 3, 2021

By: Steve Rose

(CW: racism, anti black racism, police brutality, violence, murder mention)

She was told there was no room for a ‘brown swan’ in the London Festival Ballet, so she went to the US. There she found enormous success, dancing for everyone from Michael Jackson to Prince

The turning point in Julie Felix’s career came in 1975. A student at Rambert ballet school in London, she was selected to dance in Rudolf Nureyev’s production of Sleeping Beauty with the London Festival Ballet (now the English National Ballet). Nureyev was the god of British ballet – and he lived up to his reputation on the first day of rehearsal, Felix recalls. “He was late, but everybody said he was always late. All of a sudden, the doors flew open and in he came. He was well renowned for these big boots he used to wear, and a big fur coat. He took the coat off like a matador and threw it so it slid across the dance studio floor. Everybody jumped up and stood to attention. He was there for probably about half an hour.” At the time, 17-year-old Felix was awestruck. In hindsight, half a century later, she is less impressed: “Talk about unprofessional.”

In the fairytale version of Felix’s life, having acquitted herself on stage with Nureyev, she would have joined the London Festival Ballet and become the first Black British dancer to begin her ascent through the ranks of a British ballet company. Instead, she was told she was a “lovely dancer”, but was not going to be given a contract, “because of the colour of my skin. I would mess up the line of the corps de ballet, because you can’t have a whole row of white swans and then there’s a brown one at the end.”

Felix was stunned: “It hit me like a thunderbolt.” Her mother was white British and her father African-Caribbean, from Saint Lucia. She had never thought of the refined world of ballet as being what we might now describe as institutionally racist. “It sounds ridiculous, but because I didn’t experience any racial issues or difficulties before that, I didn’t think there was anything wrong with the colour of my skin. I thought that I was talented and that would be enough.”

Having grown up in Ealing, west London, in the 60s, Felix certainly knew about racial difference. She rarely saw any faces that were not white in the neighbourhood or at school, she says. After her parents had met on a bench in Hyde Park, her mother’s family disapproved. “They said: ‘If you marry that man, we’re going to disown you.’ And my mum just said: ‘Well, fair enough, I still want to marry him.’”

Her father, who worked as a foreman at the Hoover factory, was quite the charmer, says Felix. “He was the proudest man. He would paint the front door a different colour every year. He was always up the ladder washing his windows. He would grow fruits and vegetables in the back garden. But I would say my dad had a big chip on his shoulder.”

She describes how he would dress like a dandy, in 40s suits and spats, even if he was just going to do the shopping. “He would always berate the grocers and say: ‘You’re picking the bruised fruit and vegetables because I’m Black. You think I can’t see this?’” She laughs. “Why would you move somewhere if you’re going to spend your life being concerned about the way other people look at you and your colour?”

There was an incident when she was eight or nine, when her father returned from work very late, his shirt ripped and covered in blood. A colleague had attacked him outside the factory gates with a meat cleaver on a chain. “He didn’t like, one, the way my dad spoke to him and, two, because my dad was Black,” she says.

Culturally, the Felix household was “100% British”, she says. She had no connection to her Saint Lucian family, although she would see her British grandparents in Essex regularly (relations had thawed when Felix’s elder sister and she were born). Musically, her father liked American crooners such as Frank Sinatra and Nat King Cole; her mother preferred classical music and had once aspired to be an opera singer. “So, when it came to my wanting to dance, there was a local ballet school around the corner in Ealing that I would go to, and Mum said: ‘Well, as long as you keep working hard and you’re enjoying it, I will fund it for you.’ She wasn’t a pushy, stereotypical ballet mother, but she knew that I loved it. And because she’d been stopped doing what she wanted to do, she was there 100% for me.” When she passed the audition for the Rambert, her parents could not afford the fees; Felix won a grant from the Inner London Education Authority, which paid 75%.

Felix says no one is “born to dance”, but, as a student, her passion for ballet was boundless. “I can remember the feeling of waking up in the morning, earlier than I needed to, getting on the underground and going into Notting Hill Gate, where the school was. I was the first one in the door. The cleaner was still there.

“I could not get enough of it. My friend and me would stretch and practise our fouettés in the lunch break. We’d be the last ones out of the building. Get back on the train, go home. My feet would be bleeding. I’d have blisters all over my toes. And I didn’t care. I just knew this was what was required. I soaked my feet in salt water, dabbed surgical spirit on them to get the skin to heal and get them dried out so that I could get up the next morning and get on that train again.”

After all her dedication, being rejected for her colour was devastating. “It didn’t last long, mind you,” she says. “Part of my personality is: sink or swim. And I thought: ‘I am not going to sink here.’ So I just flipped it around and just said: ‘Watch me. I’m going to show you I can do it.’”

She didn’t have to wait too long. The previous summer, the Dance Theatre of Harlem (DTH) had come to perform in London. This was a pioneering Black ballet company founded in 1969 by Arthur Mitchell, the first top-flight Black dancer in US ballet. While they were in town, Felix went along, auditioned for Mitchell and was immediately offered a contract. She declined. When her teacher at Rambert found out, “she absolutely hit the roof”, Felix recalls. “She said: ‘You can’t pick and choose. You’ve been offered a job!’” Fortunately, the DTH returned to London a few months after her Nureyev experience. Felix auditioned and was offered a job a second time. She did not turn it down.

This time, Felix’s skin colour was to her advantage, although working with an all-Black company in the US was a curious reversal: “I’d gone from all of my ballet training, and growing up not really being aware of anything to do with Black people, to going to New York and there’s no white people.” Before relocating to New York, Felix had never had a passport, left the UK or flown in an aeroplane.

“Within two weeks of being there, Arthur Mitchell said to me: ‘We’ve got to knock the British out of you.’ And I took umbrage, because I’m really proud of being British,” Felix says. In retrospect, she knows what he meant: “It was the wishy-washy way I approached my technique and my ballet training. But it wasn’t just about that; it was everything that Arthur Mitchell taught and portrayed and wanted us to portray within our work. He wanted to show that Black people really can do this.”

DTH’s sense of purpose aligned with Felix’s own. She stayed with the company for 10 years, earning her place as a soloist and touring the US and beyond (including a satisfying return to the Royal Opera House). Life in the US put British racism into perspective, says Felix. In her first week in New York, she witnessed a young Black man being shot dead in the street by two white police officers for shoplifting. A touring performance in Mississippi in 1978 had to be cancelled because the Ku Klux Klan staged a protest outside the theatre, in white hoods, burning cross and all. “No words can describe that feeling,” she says.

There were more good times than bad, though. Felix shared the stage with, and danced for, luminaries from Ronald Reagan to her hero, Luciano Pavarotti. She danced with Lionel Richie to All Night Long at the 1984 Los Angeles Olympics closing ceremony; visitors to her shows included Michael Jackson and Prince. Jackson wanted to cast the dancers in his ill-fated Peter Pan movie, she says. He came to a matinee in Pasadena, California, supposedly incognito, but in full Jackson regalia: black sunglasses, Jheri curl and military-style outfit, with a complement of bodyguards. “I was annoyed, because I was there to deliver the performance, but you had all these girls screaming in the audience,” says Felix. “Anyway, after it finished, he came backstage and said to us, very, very quietly: ‘I really enjoyed your performance. I just think you’re fantastic.’ What a humble man.”

A year later, Prince came to a show, by coincidence at the same theatre. He was similarly “incognito”, in a sequined, hooded purple cape. He never took the hood down. “At the end of the performance, he got back in his limo and left and didn’t say thank you, hello, anything. Really quite rude.”

By 1986, aged 30, Felix was beginning to feel the physical toll of ballet life. She also missed home. She returned to the UK and became a teacher and remedial coach for Sadler’s Wells Royal Ballet, first in London, then in Birmingham, where the company relocated when it became Birmingham Royal Ballet, in 1990. She married and had three daughters (none of whom followed in their mother’s footsteps).

She then became head of dance at a local school. Now it was her turn to “knock the British out” of her students. “They don’t seem to know how to really push themselves,” she says. “Ballet is really painful. If you don’t feel that, then you’re not doing it properly.” Ballet has also always required a highly specific form of physicality, Felix points out. “It needs very arched feet, it requires good natural rotation of your hip sockets, a slender body, long, lithe muscles, long neck, small head.” Regardless of talent or musicality, she says, dancers who do not conform to this body type will struggle. Perhaps it is this inherent discrimination that has made other forms of prejudice easier to disguise.

British ballet has made some progress since the 70s, but it could do more. Birmingham Royal Ballet, for example, had a successful workshop programme with local schools, whose pupils were often from Black, Asian or minority ethnic backgrounds, but such programmes seem to have “fizzled out” as a result of local authority budget cuts, Felix says. On the other hand, there are institutions such as Ballet Black, which advocates for diversity in professional ballet. At the time of its founding in 2001, there were still no women of colour performing in any British company. The Royal Ballet recruited its first Black, British-born male dancer, Solomon Golding, only in 2013.

Felix is not convinced British ballet has turned the corner: “I still believe that we’ve got ballet companies who will take a few people of colour just to be politically correct.” However, she was heartened by the appointment of the Cuban-British dancer Carlos Acosta as director of Birmingham Royal Ballet in 2020, although the pandemic has so far curtailed its activities. While all British arts are vulnerable at the moment, ballet – with its high demands for time, labour, space and personnel – is especially so. Now based in Cornwall, Felix has made do teaching over Zoom for the past year. She is not complaining: “It really is a lovely place to be locked down.”

Felix’s skin colour began as a factor that counted against her, but it became an animating force in her career and led to a wealth of experiences and successes she might otherwise not have had. With that satisfaction, the anger she feels for her 17-year-old self being told her brownness would “mess up the line” has mellowed a little. “Their choice of not accepting me enabled me to find something within myself that I probably would never have known was there,” she says. “And then to open up this whole world for me. So I can say that hatred was turned to gratitude.”

#article #julie felix #ballet #anti black racism #racism #murder mention #police brutality mention #antiblackness tw #violence tw

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amphtaminedreams · 4 years

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Paris Haute Couture Week S/S 2020 Plus a Little Jacquemus: Okay, Dior DID Suck (Part 2/2)

Hi to anyone reading,

First of all, thank you! I have never had a post do as well as the part 1 of my haute couture week review did and I am so overwhelmed with the positive feedback. This is probably funny to read for those of you getting thousands of reblogs on your posts, me acting like I won an academy award because I got a couple of hundred, but honestly I don’t expect any traction when I write on here (it’s basically just me word vomiting everything I’m thinking as if people want to hear it aka. mouthing off into what I thought was the void) so if you did read it, thank you! I do spend a long-ass time on these so it means a lot:-)

I’ll leave the self-indulgent ramble there though as it’s probably not what you came for and jump straight into part 2 of my thoughts, starting with Jacquemus. Yeah, I knew what I was doing when I tagged that in my last post. Simon Porte Jacquemus is the man of the *fashion* people right now; I’ve even found myself coming round to the Le Chiquito bag despite my original thought being “well, that’s fucking useless”. I know, I know, technically it’s not haute couture; it was part of Men’s Fashion Week, but it happened around the same time and everyone was talking about it on Twitter, so I feel like I have to include it.

In a way, it kind of reminds me of Bottega Veneta’s last RTW show, in that, especially with the women’s outfits, we seem to be sticking with simple, fitted garments and chunky, more statement jewellery. I’ve got to say I like the styling here a lot more though, and in general I’m a fan of this collection. The collared tops with cut outs underneath blazers are cool and I can’t wait until it gets warm enough for me to not feel dumb wearing my headscarfs like this; there’s a LOT of summer outfit inspiration. It’s not a mind-blowing collection or anything but it is effortlessly sexy and that’s something I wish I could say about myself. Most of us can only hope to look half as good as these models do whilst making the effort but at least Jacquemus is aspirational, lol.

I also fucking adore this colour palette. I’m sick of neutrals literally just meaning brown and white; the navy, sand and muted khaki is a fresh edition to what is usually interpreted as the colours you’d seen worn by Disney’s Riverboat Cruise staff and only Disney’s Riverboat Cruise staff. And I mean, come on-what is more neutral than typical English school carpet blue.

Next for the whole reason I had to make this haute couture week review 2 separate posts: Jean Paul Gaultier’s final show.

In the best way possible, it’s a lot. I don’t even really know where to start, except to say that I guess this is a fitting last show; a celebration of everything campy, messy, weird, performative, and punk is the perfect send off for a brand whose best known perfume of the last few years is called Scandal. More than anything, the final show represented the range of characters and cultures that have influenced JPG throughout his half-a-decade-long career, the lines that supposedly separate what is “masculine” and “feminine”, “old” and “young” and ultimately art and fashion blurred in the most exaggerated way possible. Sure, there are some looks which are individually a bit messy here but the way they were grouped into almost chapter-like segments meant that when you see them all together, they work. Nods to the patterns and structures that recurred from season to season were sprinkled throughout, from sailor stripes to corsets to the expected whirlwinds of colour. I’ll even allow the wellies in that one outfit; if I can get over bucket hats in Peter fucking Pilotto’s last RTW show, I can get over some questionable shoes here. Middle aged fishermen and boys who liked to pose with monster carp in their Tinder pictures as some weird display of masculinity everywhere rejoice.

Now onto a show that I personally found slightly disappointing: Margiela.

I think this one is a bit TOO weird for me. Like if you’re gonna go avant-garde, go all out. Chiffon gimp masks (I don’t know if that’s the intention here but that’s what I’m getting, sorry Maison) are something I’m not particularly fond of and I’ve never been a fan of the Tabi boots in the first place, let alone when they’ve seemingly been blown up to Michelin man style proportions. I didn’t find the show to be a total lost cause-I enjoyed the colour palette and I’ve always liked that contrast stitching detail, plus the bowler hats are interesting-but on the whole considering how much I liked the last RTW show, this is a bit of a let down.

The looks I included are salvageable but (I feel mean saying this) there were genuinely a lot of pieces that did just resemble bits of fabric draped over each over with no discernible rhyme or reason, so much so that they reminded me of some of the monstrosities I saw at a Drag Race pub quiz this one time where we had 5 mins to make some garms out of loo roll and then have a team member model them for points down a makeshift runway.

Ralph and Russo was alright. There were a few pieces that I really liked but again, I can’t help but compare this collection to the last, where it felt like the fussy details of bows and sequins and feathers and the Barbie Dreamhouse palette were utilised with a direction in mind. Here, I don’t get that. As ever, the gowns are gorgeous and I’d pay good money just to try one on for five minutes but as an overall collection I’d say there was a lack of higher vision, which is probably the snobbiest sentence I’ve ever written so forgive me.

As for Ronald Van Der Kemp, I could’ve done without including it to be honest, if it weren’t for the few pieces I’m in love with: the velvet cape, fur trimmed jacket and blue satin dress are probably my favourite pieces here.

So onto a collection I liked a lot more: Schiaparelli.

The influence of nature from flowers in bloom to insects to the organic structure of the human skeleton is as present as ever, though this collection includes a lot more delicate symbolism than usual. Honestly, the details make it for me; the brooches, earrings and facial jewellery are other-worldly touches to outfits that could otherwise be simple fashion magazine editor on-the-go. That’s not in itself a bad thing! The suits are gorgeous. I mean, I’m talking fashion editor in New York in a power suit yelling orders down the phone while she rushes along with a coffee. A Miranda Priestley in the making type woman. THAT’S a modern take on the divine feminine that Maria Grazia should’ve been going for; our goddesses aren’t women who sit around looking pretty (though that helps too) and place curses on mere mortals anymore, they’re women who get shit done.

With regards to Valentino, which was also a delight, let me start by saying this colour palette is EVERYTHING. It’s ugly sisters in Cinderella fantastic, and we know those 2 were the real fashion icons really. Other than that, I adore the Old Hollywood silhouettes from the gloves to the Liz Taylor-in-Cleopatra-level-dramatic earrings. Everything is opulent and expensive-looking and pretty much what we’ve all come to expect from Valentino. A strong 8/10.

For me personally, Viktor and Rolf was a standout and one of my favourite collections of haute couture week. It’s not going to be everyone’s cup of tea and I know it’s at the complete opposite end of the spectrum to what was probably my other favourite collection, Elie Saab, but this is just my style down to a T, the perfect balance of grungy and cutesy that I want to achieve.

There’s probably going to be a lot of objections to the temporary face tattoos and I get that, but I think they’re fucking sick. I obviously wouldn’t get a permanent one lest my mother murder me in cold blood however if I did, you bet I would be pairing them with frilly-ass babydoll dresses that you could pick up in Camden Market like this.

And last but not least (that would be Dior), there’s Zuhair Murad.

Sigh.

IDK, man. Seeing Zuhair Murad dresses on Tumblr and WeHeartIt (remember that site? It still exists!) as a 14 year old was one of the things that got me into fashion, so it sucks that almost every time a new collection comes around, I feel underwhelmed. Disappointingly, the brand hasn’t really progressed all that much since 2013. It goes without saying that the stoning and the embroidery and sequins are stunning and would make anyone feel like a princess but from a critical point of view, I’m just not seeing anything new here. Whereas I feel like Elie Saab, for example, reflected the growing fascination with East Asian fashion and recognition of the supremacy of the region’s street style in his haute couture last collection, Zuhair Murad seems to be stuck designing the same dresses he was 6 years ago.

To pick one example, the rounded stoned necklines are so outdated that they’ve been making their way onto department store prom dresses for years. I get that it’s supposed to be a reference to Ancient Egyptian style and I respect that, I was one of those 8 year old that was obsessed with mummies and the “Curse of Tutankhamun”, but couldn’t it be done in a more interesting way? It’s Maria Grazia’s spin on Ancient Greece all over again. Now I get how how the I imagine very niche subsection of people who are into fashion and Julius Caesar (okay, so I don’t even know if they still believed in mythology and all that malarky at that point in history but just roll with my comparison here) might’ve felt going through Vogue Runway. Anyway, I hate to end on a critical note and so be clear, these are still absolutely magnificent dresses. If we ignore those ugly round necklines, that is.

So that’s it for this post! If you read part 1 and 2, I hope you enjoyed it! As always, let me know your opinions and feel free to disagree. I’m literally just about to start trawling through all the A/W 2020 RTW collections though I imagine that’s gonna take me way longer to do than this, so I wouldn’t expect that for a month or two. In the meantime, I’m trying to fit shooting a Euphoria-inspired lookbook into my days off work which is looking atm like it’s going to be the end of March, so look out for that, and also a review of the red carpet fashion from this season’s award shows.

As ever, thank you so much for reading and again, thank you for the reception on part 1 if you were one of the people that read it. It makes staying up til 3am with the jitters seem worthwhile, lol!

Lauren x

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phrynefishersfrocks · 5 years

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Miss Fisher’s seventh ensemble in “Murder Most Scandalous” (Season 2, Episode 1) consists of her fabulous gold lace dress, along with an over the top cocoon coat and a glittering headpiece.

Her cocoon wrap was a staple in the 1920′s, with a long oval shape, loose cuffs, and voluminous sleeves. While these coats often had fur trim, Phryne’s wrap is edged with a collection of black feathers along the hems and the cuffs, with the back reaching down nearly to her ankles. The main fabric looks to be black velvet with swirling gold sequin decorations.

“There was another outfit I had to work out... a black and gold lame kind of big cape with feathers all around the neck and down the sides... I wore it undercover as ‘Lulu Loreta’ when I had to leave the high-class ‘Gentlemen’s Club’ and visit the police station. It was huge and heavy and I had to work out how to manage it like I owned it. Marion and I played around with it until I found a way that I could still manage those emphatic ‘Lulu’ gestures but feel the un-self-conscious looseness of that character... in the end I picked it up and wrapped it around my arm and Marion agreed - it worked.” - Essie Davis, Costume Exhibition Catalogue

The sequined headpiece was handmade by the Miss Fisher costume team, using gold sequins purchased in London and stringing them onto very fine pieces of wire, allowing for both stability and movement.

Phryne completes the look with a gold rope necklace looped around her neck, with tassels on the end, as well as a gold amethyst pendant chain. She also wears a pair of gorgeous green jade earrings with diamond circles and embellishments.

“Murder Most Scandalous” - Season 2, Episode 1

Screenshots from here, headpiece photo from the official Pinterest, earring photo from the National Trust of Victoria Facebook.

#miss fisher's murder mysteries #mfmm #phryne fisher #phryne fisher's frocks #Murder Most Scandalous #s2e01 #2x01 #costume breakdown #costume study #costume design #vintage fashion #1920's fashion #essie davis #marion boyce #cocoon wrap

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ladyshandioftheendless · 4 years

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~Don’t Fear the Demon~

Alright, my babies here’s that end of the year bro story I talked about doing yesterday! HAPPY NEW YEAR, CLASSIC ROCK FAM!! HERE’S TO 2020!!

~Shandi

StarChild helps Demon adjust to his new life on the KISSterian surface..and the unfortunate stigma that comes with it.

“My Prince what have you done?!”

The KISSterian Council looked positively scandalized when their Prince walked into the Council Hall with a Demon from the dreaded Underworld. But StarChild stood beside his new companion proudly, ignoring the disgusted looks and whispers. “I’ve simply come here to show you my new friend~ You will treat him the way you treat any other citizen of KISSteria. The Palace is his home now. If I hear about any abuses..well..I’m afraid it won’t be my wrath you will have to face.”

“You would let that creature do us harm?!”

StarChild shrugged. “He is his own person..not my pet. I am not responsible for how he reacts to being prodded. Do so at your own risk.” With those words, they both turned and walked out.

“You are not concerned about the consequences of this?”

“Why should I be? I am their Prince. They cannot do anything to me without risking the Elder finding out.”

Demon snorted. “And why would she care?”

“Because..she is my mother.”

“…really now?”

“Really. I trust you will not repeat that to anyone.”

“Who would I tell?”

“Good point~”

StarChild led Demon downstairs to the lower Star Chambers. It was dark and dimly lit, and Demon took an immediate liking to it. “I thought you might enjoy being down here~” StarChild said, leading him to a thick wooden door. “I had one of the unused Chambers fashioned into quarters for you. I hope you like it~” Surprised, Demon went inside and looked around. The decor was certainly impressive. Black gargoyle statues stood as posts framing a large comfortable bed, covered with red silk sheets, plush red pillows and a black quilted blanket. Candles in a chandelier on the ceiling provided the only light since there were no windows, which pleased Demon greatly. Along with the usual bedroom amenities he noticed and armor stand in the corner. A glimmering suit of black armor was displayed upon it, decorated with silver chains and flaming red gems, with pointed ivory talons molded into the grieves and a red cape embroidered with flames. Demon stared at the display in disbelief. “Is..this for me..?” StarChild smiled. “Do you like it? I thought armor would suit you~”

“No one..has ever given me anything like this..not even my mentor..”

“Then I’m even more grateful you’re here..because now I can give you what you truly deserve~”

Demon turned to his new companion with a genuine smile. “Thank you. Truly.”

“It’s my pleasure~ I’ll stay to help you if you like~”

“Help..with what?”

“To get you into your new armor!”

“Why?”

“There’s an event I must attend this evening. A King from a distant realm who is traveling the Cosmos is stopping to rest here in KISSteria. We’re celebrating his arrival with a grand feast. I’d..like it if you attended with me..” Demon looked at the armor again. He was quite curious how it would look on him..so why not? “Very well. I think..yes. I may need help.”

“Wonderful~!”

~*~

Later that evening StarChild and Demon walked arm in arm to the Ceremony Hall. The Star Prince looked quite fetching himself, dressed in one of his usual lowcut black spandex suits, belt, collar and platform heeled boots all decorated with rhinestone stars and a purple sequined jacket with black feathers lining its lapels and sleeves. Eyes were instantly drawn to them as they walked down the halls, mainly looks of disdain and gossip.

“Do you see that hideous thing on the Prince’s arm?”

“Indeed. What is he thinking?”

“Maybe it has him over some kind of spell. How could the Elder allow this?”

“I hear they’re sleeping together. Disgusting!”

Demon could hear them all, and the urge the set them all in fire was rising. Then he felt StarChild squeeze his arm. “Pay not attention to their prattle. They unfortunately have nothing better to do with their time. We both know what we truly are to each other. That’s all that’s important.” Demon looked at him and nodded. Those were indeed wise words.

When they entered the Hall, the Elder greeted them with a small nod. Beside her stood the guest of honor. King Robert Lionsmane was more handsome than the last time StarChild had seen him. His regal attire matched well with his thick crown of long golden curls. StarChild approached the King with a timid smile. “It's..an honor to see you again, Your Majesty~ I do hope you will save a dance for me later~” King Robert smiled. “The honor would be mine, Prince StarChild~ Perhaps later after dinner?”

“I would like that~”

Demon found himself dreading what would happen once he was left alone.

~*~

Dinner passed without indecent, with the exception of some unkind stares. Demon grew tired of it quickly. It was as if every move he made was being studied and judged. What he wouldn’t give to gouge some of their eyes out, but for StarChild’s sake he remained ‘civil,’. King Robert was surprisingly kind to him, often engaging him in conversation. It was rather refreshing to be treated like..a person. Once dinner was ended everyone returned to the Ceremony Hall. Demon sighed. “Must you leave..?” StarChild squeezed his hand. “I know you’re feeling uncomfortable..but I think you’ll be fine if you stay with Mother. I owe a certain gorgeous King a dance~” Demon shook his head as his companion practically floated off into King Robert’s arms. Young mortals and their foolish fleeting affections. He wandered over to the Elder who was speaking with a member of the Council. “Come and join me, Demon.” she said with a smile. The Councilman was less than kind. “Are you sure that’s wise, Elder? The creature may ‘accidentally’ set you on fire or something.” The Elder sighed. “I am certain he has more control than that.”

“‘He?’ Don’t you mean ‘it’? I wasn’t aware Demons had genders.”

Demon growled. “I am clearly a male. If you do not believe my words I can give you visual proof.” The Councilman scoffed. “Typical of beasts like you. Always devolving into vulgarity. Elder..doesn’t its influence on the Prince concern you?”

“I have seen no ‘influence’ that would cause me concern.” the Elder replied with a shrug. “I trust the Prince to use his own judgement in this matter, and so should you.”

“If the Prince was of sound mind why would he defile himself by being with this..thing instead of a proper wife?” That was the last straw. Demon’s eyes blazed with fire as he glared murderously at the Councilman. “If the Prince knew you spoke of him in such a way without his knowledge how confident would you be in maintaining your position then? If you think he is so easily swayed then perhaps you should offer your ‘services’ to another Realm.”

“I am fine here, thank you. It is you who do not belong.”

“So you have all told me! Many times in fact! But I am not going anywhere unless the Prince bids it..SO DEAL WITH IT!!”

Demon’s outburst cause the entire room to go silent. First there were disapproving glares, then the whispering started. Demon snarled at them and left. He’d had quite enough. StarChild bit his lip. “Please excuse me, Your Majesty. I must go and see to me friend.” King Robert nodded and kissed his hand. “Of course. My only regret is our dance ending much too soon~” With a blush StarChild waved goodbye and quickly left the Hall with everyone else staring after him.

~*~

Upon entering his room Demon tore off his cape. How those people infuriated him! He didn’t want to see them..didn’t want to hear the inane trash that spewed from their mouths ever again! How he wished he could return home..but then he would just be back where he started. He couldn’t bear to go through that again. He turned when he heard a knock. It was StarChild. “You could just come in you know. The door wasn’t closed.”

“I know..but that would be impolite. I’m..sorry about what happened.”

“Are you? I figured you’d be too busy getting lost in the King’s eyes.”

“You are my friend, Demon. You are important to me too.”

“Why do you continue to suffer their indignities? I am not worth it.”

“Yes you are!!”

Demon stared at the Star Prince with narrowed eyes. “You do remember what I am do you not? What I represent to them?” StarChild shook his head. “I know what you are..and I don’t care. You’re the only one besides Mother who has treated me like I matter. You don’t know how important that is to me.” He sat Demon down on his bed and leaned against him. “If I had a choice..I’d much rather stay here with you than be..back there.”

“But you must go back.”

“As the Prince of KISSteria..yes I must.”

“Then I will be here waiting.”

StarChild smiled and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Demon. Believe me when I say you are the first true friend I have ever had..and I am happy you are here with me~”

“I’m..glad you are.”

“I will return as soon as I can slip away again. Then we can do something fun together..just us~”

“I..would like that.”

Demon watched the Star Prince leave his room and close the door behind him. He thought back on their words and smiled. He was strong. He could endure this. For StarChild’s friendship..he could endure anything.

~END~

#Shandi's drabbles #Happy New Year's KISS!!#Shandi's KISSteriaverse #hope you enjoyed the song reference in the title~#also a special guest~

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fanfics4all · 6 years

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A Lodge Between Us: Part 3

Request: Yes / no

Don’t be shy, request things! <3 Have a nice day/night

Archie x Lodge!Reader

Word count: 2332

Warnings: Nothing I think

Y/N: Your Name

Y/N/N: Your Nickname

Summary: You’re Veronica Lodge’s little sister and are dating Archie Andrews. You’re nothing like your sister, you don’t care about the riches and you don’t follow your parent’s orders blindly. You become close with the Southside and want to stop your father but your father has gotten into Archies head and is the devil on his shoulder.

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK!

If you want to be on the tag list for anything (My series fics, specific character fics, or just all of them) All you have to do is send me an ask and I will add you!

Masterlist

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

I walked into our living room apartment to see my mother holding a cup of coffee and walking to my father’s studdy. Before she could walk in I walked in front of her with a smile.

“Oh, I can take that in to Daddy. I wanna ask him something, anyway.” I said trying to take the cup from her.

“Your father and I have business to discuss.Besides you know the rules about his study.”

“Mom, those were the old rules.” I said confused and my sister had joined us, walking out of her room.

“Which still apply, Y/N.” She answered with a smile. Before I could argue anymore my father walked out of his study.

“I thought I heard my two palomitas out here chirping. Is that my cafá con leche?” He asked taking the cup from mother.

“Thank you, corazón.” He smiled.

“Daddy, Tonight's the season premiere of The Matchlerette. I would love to have my friends over.” Veronica said with a smile.

“Who exactly are these friends?” Dad asked.

“Inner circle only.” I answered for her.

“Hm.”

“You can watch with us, they’re dying to meet you!” Veronica added.

“They're welcome to come over, mija.” Our dad smiled.

“Thank you, daddy.” Veronica gave him a hug and a kiss.

“Come on Y/N, let’s get ready for school.” Veronica said and pulled me to our rooms.

I got dressed in a salmon colored skinny jeans, a gray tank top with black polka dots and a black bow, some cute black boots, black flower earrings, a few bracelets and a watch, and to finish it off I grabbed my sunglasses and one of my black bags. For makeup I did a gray eyeshadow with a winged liner and some fake lashes. For lips I did a pink that matched my pants kind of well.

Once Veronica and I got to school we met Kevin, Betty, and Jughead in the student lounge. Kevin had something important to tell us so we all got to school early.

“It was full-on Carrie. Midge covered in Moose's blood, screaming like a banshee. It was insane.” Kevin said, talking about what happened to Moose and Midge last night.

“Kev, what were you even doing there? You could've been shot, too.” Archie asked walking in.

“I was just night-jogging, you know, as one does, and suddenly, I hear gunshots.”

“Can we agree there's a killer on the loose?” Archie asked sitting down.

“With terrible aim.” Jughead said trying to lighten the mood a little.

“Jughead, he murdered Ms. Grundy.”

“We don't know these three crimes are related.” Betty pointed out.

“Guys, can we focus on what matters here? Midge and Moose are alive. Archie's dad survived.” I said smiling.

“The Matchlerette starts tonight and you're all coming over to watch.” My sister added.

“There's a shooter terrorizing the town. You really want us to watch a gross dating show?”Jughead asked looking at her like she was crazy.

“What Veronica means is that we want you all to come meet our dad, officially.” I explained with a smile.

“Well, we'll be there, guys.” Betty smiled.

“Hey, Andrews, we're going to the hospital to see Moose. You coming?” Reggie asked Archie.

“Yeah, for sure. I'll see you tonight, Ronnie.” He said leaving.

“I better go. Was supposed to meet my peer mentor at Southside High half an hour ago.” Jughead said and Betty stopped him. Veronica and I went to our classes.

After school Veronica and I raced home to get everything ready for tonight. Everyone arrived on time and the five of us sat down. Betty, Jughead and I were sitting on the couch while Veronica and Archie were sitting on the two chairs.

“Why don't you sit down next to me, loverboy?” I said making room for him.

“Archie?” I asked when he didn’t more or say anything.

“I'm sorry. This thing with Moose It's like nobody cares. Dad keeps saying, "Leave it to Sheriff Keller. I'm like, "Yeah, he did a great job of catching Jason's murderer." Oh. Wait, I'm sorry, that was us.” He said loudly.

“Inside voices please.” Veronica whispered.

“No, don't stop him. Archie going Travis Bickle is my favorite Archie yet.” Jughead said with his mouth full of popcorn.

“Doesn't it feel like he's targeting us? I mean, specifically? I don't want anyone else getting hurt.” Archie said worriedly.

“You know, back in our salad days, When we had a getaway on the Cape, all of us got together and hired private security to keep out the riffraff, as an added layer of protection.” Veronica said and I rolled my eyes.

“I loved that house.” Our dad smiled walking into the room and all of us stood up.

“Dad.” I said slightly shocked.

“We're on our way to dinner at the club.” Mom said.

“I wanted to meet your friends first.” He said looking at us with a smile.

“Great. Thank you. This is Betty Cooper.” I said introducing her.

“Hi. Nice to meet you.” Betty said in her usual sweet voice.

“And Jughead Jones.”

“Hi, you know my dad.” Jug said shaking his hand.

“I do. He's a good man. He values family. I hope his return comes sooner rather than later.” Daddy said with a smile.

“So do we.” Jughead smiled back.

“And, Daddy, this is-”

“Archie Andrews. The boy who's captured my daughter's heart.” Dad said cutting me off.

“Daddy.” I said slightly annoyed.

“Uh, it's nice to meet you, sir.” Archie said with a smile.

“Ah, please. Call me Hiram.” He said and the two shook hands.

“I couldn't help but overhear your discussion and I, um I understand your frustration with Sheriff Keller. As for someone who's had his own share of run-ins with the law I can say that the police aren't always the solution. Sometimes we need to take matters into our own hands. We need to protect ourselves.” He said.

“We’re gonna lose our table.” Mom reminded him.

“Oh, yes, of course. Hey, it was nice to meet all of you.” He said and they started walking out.

“Oh, and Archie?” My dad said causing us to turn towards him.

“Yes?” Archie asked.

“Why don't you come over for dinner this week? I look forward to seeing what you come up with to save Riverdale.” Daddy said and I smiled at him a bit, maybe he is trying…

We spent the night watching the Matchlerette and once it was over everyone went home, since it was a school night. Once everyone left Veronica and I got ready for bed and went to sleep.

The next morning I was getting ready for school I had on gold sequined shirt, white jeans, purple heels, with matching purple earrings and a bracelet. For makeup I did a black and gold eye with winged liner, and a metallic golden lipstick for a little something extra.

I was backing my beige bag for school when my mother knocked on the door.

“About Archie coming over for dinner I wouldn't push that if I were you.” She said.

“I'm not. Dad invited him.” I said confused.

“Daddy wants to please his little girl. And you want your father's approval. Mija you want everything to change overnight. You want him to be friends with your friends. And that will happen. Just no need to rush it. No need to be so thirsty, Y/N.” She said and walked out the room.

After that weird encounter I met Veronica downstairs and we made our way to school. School was normal for once and after school I went to Pop’s to meet Archie. I walked in and spotted him in a booth looking out the window.

“I have incredible news, Archiekins. You are invited to dinner with my parents. Our place.” I said sitting across from him.

“Oh, Y/N/N, this week's crazy-”

“I don't care.” I said cutting him off.

“Archie, this is nonnegotiable.That drive-by he did was a kind gesture, but this, this is like I don't wanna call it a test, though it kind of is.”

“What am I being tested for?” Archie asked confused.

“Not you, my father.” I sighed.

“Can he just be a dad for one night? No agenda other than getting to know someone who's important to me.” I said grabbing his hand.

“In that case, I'll be there for you.” He said with a smile.

“I don't have time to teach you Spanish, but I've selected phrases for you to memorize and practice. And can we not talk about that private army you're starting? Okay? Thanks.” Archie looked down and smiled. Once that was done with Archi and I finished our date and it was perfect.

The next day Archie and the Bulldogs were walking around town handing out flyers about the ‘Red Circle’. One of them handed me one and Midge and I looked at each other and sighed. I can’t believe Archie is starting an army of students! Has he lost his mind!?

It was the weekend and I had asked Veronica to help me polish the silverware. She happily agreed since it was a special dinner tomorrow. We were working in the dining room when our mother walked out from the kitchen.

“You're playing with fire, I want you to know.” She whispered to me and walked over to get a drink.

“I'm polishing cutlery, Mom. In advance of my parents getting to know my boyfriend over dinner.” I said finishing the knife I was holding.

“That may be your agenda, but it's not necessarily your father's.”

“He's making an effort, I'm making an effort. Veronica is making an effort. The only person not making an effort is you.” I pointed out.

“I'm trying to warn you Y/N.”

“About what, Mom? What do you think Daddy's gonna do? Please, God, enough of these veiled threats. Tell me you think he's dangerous. Say it to my face or forever hold your peace because we're never having this conversation again.” I said standing up.

“Y/N!” Veronica said touching my arm to get me to sit down.

“Can't do it, can you?” I asked when she didn’t say anything and sat down.

“Just remember, you're the one who welcomed him back.” I glared at her and she walked off.

Tonight was the dinner and Veronica was helping me get dressed. I decided to pull out my favorite red and black dress, black heels, and two beautiful bracelets. For makeup I did some black eyeshadow with a silver highlight in the corner of my eye. I also pulled out one of my favorite red lipsticks to complete the look.

Archie had come over and we were currently all sat down eating dinner. It was awkward to say the least.

“The posole was really great, Mrs. Lodge.” Archie said with a smiled.

“Glad you liked it.” My mother smiled black while holding a glass of wine.

“So, Y/N tells me you rescued the Muggs girl.” Dad said.

“Yeah, but the creeper got away. We need to be faster with our response time.” Archie said.

“Yeah, because you'd like to be ahead of the threat. I understand.” Dad said looking at mom. She rolled her eyes and drank some more of her wine.

“So, tell me, have you ever had rum?” He asked Archie.

“Rum? What, like the alcohol?” Archie asked confused and I looked at him weirdly and nodded.

“Yeah, there's a signature Lodge family label. It's I have some in my study. Would you like to try it?” Daddy asked and Archie looked at me.

“Of course he would.” I smiled grabbing his hand. The three of us got up but my dad stopped me.

“Oh, palomita, would you mind if Archie and I had a little chat, man-to-man?” He asked.

“Oh, um sure daddy…” I said sitting back down. My mother smirked at me like she just won something.

“Poor little princess. The king will always keep her at arm's length. She'll never be allowed in his private throne room.” My mother said drunkenly and finished her glass of wine. I glared at her and shook my head. I got up and paced outside my dad’s study and I could hear a bit of what they were saying but it was muffled by the thick doors so I couldn’t be sure. Once they were done Dad said Archie and I can go to my room for a bit and so we did. Archie wouldn’t tell me what they talked about so I just gave up, for now. The two of us talked about how we thought the dinner went and honestly I think it went well, my dad was actually being a dad for once. Archie soon left since it was getting late and I went to bed.

The next morning Veronica and my mother went out to go shopping so it was just me and my father home. He sat at the table reading the paper and I sat next to him eating some breakfast. He pulled his paper down a bit to glance at me and I was looking at him with a smile.

“Oh, I know that smile.”

“I've been thinking-”

“Oh boy…” He said placing his paper down.

“I want a more active role in Lodge Industries. I am a shareholder, am I not?”

“That's an honorary title, Y/N.”

“Well, let’s make it a real one.” He looked at me with a raised brow.

“I mean Veronica is involved and I wanna get my hands dirty. I wanna be in the room where it happens. Unless there's a reason why I shouldn't be involved. Get a peek behind the curtain?”

“No. None at all. Of course you should be involved. You're a Lodge, after all.” He said with a smile and the two of us cheered to our new agreement. I would no longer let my father pull something over on me.

Tag list: @jojokoko0717 @lilaqueenquinn @lonelydoode @les-bio-lie @tashy-bear @blueandgoldaus @nixdunbarhale @nixdunbarhale2

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vioislit · 5 years

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should I absolutely murder my hands and go for the w H O L E CAPE IN SEQUINS no but I’m gonna do the sides! and perhaps the sleeves

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rosemariecawkwell · 1 year

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Blog Tour Calendar: Cozy Craft Mysteries by Millie Ravensworth

I’m reviewing each of the books: The Wonderland Murders – 19th April The Painted Lobster Murders – 23rd April The Sequined Cape Murders – 26th April The Swan Dress Murders – 29th April It’s a busy couple of weeks. There will be a giveaway below each review, for a chance to win a copy of The Wonderland Murders and other bits. And in surprise news about the author! “It’s been a poorly…

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#A Cozy Craft Mystery #Blog tour calendar #Millie Ravensworth #Rachel&039;s Random Resources

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ninjagoat · 6 years

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Notes on Supergirl 3x21

- I'll start by saying this: Lena deserves a bigger victory lap. She hasn't just cured Sam of Reign; she has cured a member of her 'family' from their murderous inner demons. This should be a huge deal for her. But I'll take the relieved smile, nevertheless.

- Sorry, Alex. Guess you won't be Ruby's mum forever after all.

- Kara making the decision to trust Lena with black Kryptonite, despite everything, is one of my favourite moments from this episode. Kara really does have faith in everyone. It's not just words.

- Kara and Alex on that sofa, maybe for the last time. But Alex will always be in Kara's heart.

- Suuuure, Kara, you're just letting him tag along to pick up a gravity generator. Nothing else going on there.

- THE PARTY. There's so much I love about this: Winn's joy at celebrating his friend, especially the linking-arms-to-drink-champagne thing, which hits almost exactly the same tone as their dance in 1x03 (Winn is Kara's best friend. I WILL FIGHT YOU, AND I WILL WIN); Mon-El giving Winn a little hug; Alex's speech for her sister; and most importantly, Kara's speech to everyone else, which turns it from being a celebration of Supergirl, to a celebration of all the people that made her Supergirl. El Mayarah, forever.

- But my FAVOURITE thing about the montage is the ENTIRELY SEPARATE party at Catco that exists solely to include Lena (as 'family', no less) despite the fact that Lena has no idea where Kara's really going, or why it's so important to her; and when it should be clear to everyone in the audience that has ever met a person before that she is so much less Kara's family than anyone at the DEO party is.

- Kara's SO EXCITED to see all her stuff to see all her stuff from when she was a kid! And ROS- sorry, 'Thara'!

- Of course James is bored when there's no-one to save. He's driven to do this (see my notes on 3x19), but at the end of the day, he does this for fun.

- Winn, being Kara's best friend, has a much better of how Kara's trip to Argo is going to go than James does. Jeremy Jordan's spent all season playing Winn as knowing that one day, Kara wouldn't come back. But he didn't think it would be like this.

- The prop gag - that little toy gun going off unexpectedly - is a great distillation of the larger themes of this gun control story-line, and it's surprisingly well executed. No-one is, strictly speaking, evil, but all the gun advocates view the situation through a specific and very narrow lens: the manufacturer through the status quo of the industry; the gunman himself through his own personal problems; and Lena, through the attempts on her life, and her attempts on the lives of others (none of which were strictly self-defence, since she shot two of them in the back, and the other was an attempt at pre-meditated murder). Mental health is mentioned constantly. Lots of good choices.

- James's face when Winn compares the shield to a Picasso is priceless. How dare Winn be proud of his own work? Only James gets to exercise his ego through Guardian, Winn!

- Kara's so excited to not have to save anyone; because, unlike James, being a hero was never about fun for her. Kara heard people suffering, everywhere, and she had the means to prevent it, and the whole time she was told to hide, it ate away at her. She did what she could, when she could, as much as was healthy for her. But, on Argo, she is free.

But it can't last. If there's an accident or attack here, she can't do anything. And that's going to hurt so much more, and Mon-El knows it, which is why he gives her the Legion ring. It's totally not a marriage metaphor, honest.

- I refuse to believe that Lena thought four pizzas was the right amount. Or that she buys pizza. Or that she'll eat more than two slices.

- I am, however, entirely open to the idea that she's a libertarian who's about to sea-lion her black boyfriend - who she knows could be shot by police any time they feel like it - on whether or not kids should get killed just for going to school. She's never been a bleeding heart. Every issue she's ever cared about, she's always had a reason for it to be about her.

- James has had a good-natured nuclear physicist sitting outside his office for two years? Has he tried setting her and Winn up on a date? Put in a good word for him, even? Are you even really his friend, James?

(I say this, because if Winn does end up going to the 31st century, Mon-El is absolutely going to talk him up to every female Legionnaire that'll be willing to listen. He's a good bro).

- Mon-El and Kara are out on the most middle-class, late-20s-early-30s dinner ever. Totally not married, though. No, sirree.

- ...Why is there a loading dock at a law firm? IT'S A LAW FIRM. They don't take that many large deliveries. It's mostly paper.

- Kara and happiness: never a particularly stable combination. She could be happy on Argo, but she's been away for so long. And the only person in all of time and space who can truly relate to what she's feeling is right there with her, even though his reunion with his old people was so much different from this one; and she's standing there, asking him if she can ever be truly happy? Maybe he shouldn't unburden himself now. Maybe he should let her settle into contentment before springing this on her. But he's been down that road himself. He knows where that path leads, or believes he does. The time is now.

You can be happy, Kara. You both can.

- Arming the entire DEO? Does Winn have a staff, J'onn? *begins outlining spin-off, Winslow's Angels*

- "The only weapon anyone needs, is a shield." And a baseball bat. And a grappling hook. And smoke grenades.

Also guns, tazers, black-body field generators, lead dispersal bombs, terrorist-controlled attack drones with untraceable bullets, x-ray-vision-proof scatter fields, and Kryptonite.

Seriously, has he even met Lena Luthor?

- Speaking of whom, it's two episodes before the end of the season, and she's discovered something revolutionary! About black Kryptonite, no less! The stuff that can make World-killers! What could possibly go wrong?

- But it's great to see Miss Teschmacher take her rightful place as a Luthor minion. Now, to get her into that Superman '78 sequined cape...

- LenaWatch: No Winn/Lena scenes this week.

#notes #superglue

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theinvulnerabletide · 6 years

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1, 3, 38, F (Celandine); 13, 22, 30, J (Whisper); 6, 11, 20, G (Oriana)

Oh man, these were some hard ones I think.

For Celandine, my mad scientist rock gnome (Wizard– School of Invention).

1.) What’s the maximum amount of timeyour character can sit still with nothing to do?

Like… 30 seconds? Maybe even less than that.See, Celandine is very, very bad atsitting still and doing nothing. Her mind is always moving, and her hands feelempty and wrong if they aren’t busy with something, and she has so manyprojects that she feels like she should constantly be working on. She barelygets 4-6 hours a night of sleep because just getting to bed and waiting to fallasleep is hard for her.Sick days, where her mom practically straps her down to the bed so that she hasto rest and won’t make herself any sicker, are complete torture for her.

3.) How do they put themselves to bed at night(reading, singing, thinking?)

Celandine’s room is kind of cramped; she has her bed, her dresser and night table and bookshelf… and then she has her work bench. This work bench, this big old slab of hearty, well treated wood takes up most of her room. Once she gets home andhomework she might still somehow have is done, she is at that work bench,sketching or tinkering until her eyes are so heavy that she can barely keepthem open. Sometimes beyond that—she has fallen asleep at that work bench morethan once.

38.) What memory do they revisit the most often?

It’s probably either her donning her new armor for thefirst time, testing out its capabilities, feeling the magic flowing through it,or the first time she actually got magic to work, feeling the rush of it as thespell finally clicked… or when she met her friends for the first time, each ofthem not immediately turning away from her prickly exterior or making fun ofher, but making a place for her in their group and actually wanting to hang outwith her.

F) What do you feelwhen you think of your OC (pride, excitement, frustration, etc)?

Oh, excitement definitely. She is so full of curiosityand ambition and wonder and she has so much she wants to accomplish—and as alvl 2 character so much to look forward to, story and class-wise. I am very,very excited to see where she goes, and she is exhilarating to play.

–

My precious Whisper, the mess of a tiefling sea sorceress.

13.) What color do they think they look best in? Dothey actually look best in that color?Whisper has some… oddcoloring, being indigo skinned and white haired. She normally prefers to wearwhite and black because of it—high-end travelling clothes: a white silk shirt with the throatlaces mostly undone, embroidered a bit at the loose sleeves and collar, a blackunderbust corset to give at least some protection, black pants and blackleather boots, and her cape. But when she wants to standout, she prefers strong rich colors: bright yellows and oranges and reds, palegreens and blues, but the color she thinks she looks best in is gold. The goldof her sequined costume, the one she wore while playing the Marvelous Mermaid. And she looks damn goodin it.

22.) How does jealousy manifest itself in them (theybecome possessive, they become aloof, etc)? Whisper gets aloof. Withdrawn, haughty, super into pretending that she doesn’tcare in the slightest (and probably overcompensating for it) and tries to makethe person who made her jealous, jealous. All sorts of ridiculous displays,like, say, getting into bed with an old lover in front of everyone.

30.) Whodo they most regret meeting? Oh, gosh. Out of everyoneshe’s ever met? This is hard. I think that, even compared to all thejackasses and assholes she’s met since leaving home, it’s probably eitherIgnatius and his circus or the party; probably the party because of how closeshe feels she’s gotten to them in such a short amount of time. They know almostas many secrets as the carnival did after what, 7 years of travel. Sure, theybecame family, but… they were much more her kind of people. People who didn’task questions, people who all had something to hide, people who didn’t want toomany attachments. And since she’s joined theparty, some terrible, terrible things have happened. I think she wonderssometimes where she would be and if she’d be further along with her plans ifshe’d never followed the letter she received.

J.) Didyou have to manipulate or exclude canon factors to create their character?Not excluded. Create though,and manipulate, definitely. Let’s just say I had my DM scramble to make a feworganizations and I created a bit of… mythology? let’s say, for the world inorder to flesh Whisper out and make her possible.

–

For Oriana, my dear, darling aasimar paladin.

6.) Do they considerlaws flexible, or immovable?

Despite the fact thatOriana is Lawful Good, I think she considers them flexible. They were written bypeople, after all, and are thus fallible, or can be executed wrong. They need to be flexible, need to have room to change and grow with the world in order to remain just and right. So, I think he only laws or code I think she would followcompletely are the ones of her order, or the tenets passed down directly byWahreight, and if she decided that a law was wrong, I think she would feeljustified in breaking it.

However, that does not meanthat she’s okay with outright breaking just laws. Outright cold-blooded murder,stealing, etc., are not okay with her and she’s not really okay with herfriends doing it either.

11.) How do they copewith confusion (seek clarification, pretend they understand, etc)?

I think that if it’s aninformation thing, she always seeks clarification and asks a hundred millionquestions until it sits easier in her mind or hit the books and research asmuch as she can. Otherwise, she’ll meditate on it, turning the thing over andover in her head until finds the clarity that she needs.

20.) If they were askedto explain the difference between romantic and platonic or familial love, howwould they do so?

Oriana… well, she hasn’texperienced much in the way of love. Her knowledge of romantic love comes fromher unfortunate witnessing if what went on in the paladin barracks and romancenovels, and the closest she got to familial love was from her teachers (since,you know, her parents abandoned her). She really has only experienced the platoniclove she feels for like, humanity, and her friends in particular.

But, Oriana beingOriana, she would start out with dictionary definitions and work her way fromthere.

G.) What trait oftheirs bothers you the most?

Her rigidity, I think. Notjust because she is Lawful Good, but because she’s LG and naïve and Honorable to a fault,and prideful as all hell get out as well, she can’t back down from a challenge,she can’t do anything but blaze right through the most direct path and refuseto give in.Like, when she was totally outnumbered by drow and decided not to back down or surrender.Sure, surrendering probably wouldn’t have been any better and would just havegotten Oriana trapped in a cage and probably unable to get out (because,weirdly enough, we only had the power to get 3 people out and not 4), so inhind sight it worked out okay, but in the moment I was wincing because I feltlike she was going to get us all killed. Andshe’s my OC. Wahreight love you, Oriana you need to learn how to take a breath and not dothe stupid honorable thing every once in a while.

#oc ask meme #unusual questions #whisper the tiefling sorceress #oriana the aasimar paladin #celandine the gnomish wizard!#sprin'torel campaign #eberron high #islanderscaper

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asheespiquantpeculiarities · 7 years

Text

Assault on Various Fronts Pt3

I kept my composure.

I kept silent and calm and did not make a fuss. I stood there through the entire cheering-part of it.

They were cheering for it.

Cheering that I was supposed to be married to this bloody invader! Home destroyer! Murderer!

What the HELL!

As soon as we were inside, I zoned in on my father: “NO. Father, I have been a loyal daughter all my life, but I will not marry this murderer!,” I pointed at him.

And my father shrunk slightly, apparently aware I would not back down on this. But he shook his head: “It is out of my hands, daughter of mine”

“Nonsense, father! You are the one that led the negotiations, you are the one that traded me off, when I wasn't even there! How could you!,” I was fuming. And he didn't even look me in the eye, “Your own flesh and blood, your only daughter! How could you!,” without even telling me, without even asking!

And he just stood there an-

Something had taken my hand, I pulled it away and lashed out.

The slap hung a little in the air. There was a bit of tension.

I should not have slapped said murderer. It's a bad idea to slap murderers. Especially if he has others with him that have their hands on their weapons.

Then he retook my hand – slower this time -, keeping eye contact, and then bared his neck and pressed his lips to the back of my hand.

Against my will, a bit of colour did raise to my cheeks. As horrible as he was, it was not every day that a man declared his love for me.

He then stood back up and took a step back. And I pulled my hand back. Frowning, grumbling.

And he... looked like he meant it when he said: “... I am sorry, lady Gabrielle. It was – apart from being politically ideal – a very selfish decision. I... could not wish for a better partner. You are brave. And knowledgable. It was a joy to walk, talk and work with you in the few instances I had the opportunity to – I regret your sudden retraction from the table. I would have enjoyed your input. You obviously know how to act a true ruler... do what is best for the people,” he gestured to the balcony, “They need all reason to celebrate something right now. And a true sign of lasting peace. You didn't take it from them. Even if you had all right to do so,” he looked truly sorry.

I made a cutting off gesture: “Hah. Simply because I do not want to upset them with a scandal right up front does not mean I am going to go through with it, this marriage is a farce! I hate you, you invaded my home! I will never marry you!,” I almost stormed off when he – the bloody stupid victor of this battle – got down on one knee and looked up with a somewhat sad smile.

“You... are right to say that, to feel that way. But I still think you will do it. Because you were raised your father's daughter. And you put your people first. And this marriage – as much as you might hate it – will form a bond with the Southern Isles. Your nation will be safe from invasions, since we control the neighbouring countries, the much needed sea forces will be added to your disposal, more – and better – trade routes will be usable. It is an inseparable bond. This will bring safety and wealth and this guarantees the promises will be kept. And you can not let your people live in fear. The same as I can not. Of course you are free to decline. I will not force a bond. But this – especially since you are the only daughter of the house – will be an iron clad contract, with a bond between us”

I hated him a bit more.

Then I grabbed the hem of my dress and took a breath: “I will think about it,” and with that, I squared my shoulders and left the room, leaving him on his knees.

…

Three days later, I was with our tailors, getting the dress fitted. Still furious, still hating it, but... he was right. I could not rob my people of their freedom. And not their hope for peace.

Things that were very much in jeopardy if I affronted this blackmailer by refusing his proposal. Bastard. As if I had a choice.

Ugh.

The tailors fitted my top right now. I'd usually delighted in this. It was very fine lace, great details and floral patterns woven into it. Over one shoulder was thrown a long, flow-y cloth, clinging to my skin and accentuating my figure while still spreading itself all around. It felt heavenly on the skin.

I would really enjoy this a lot more, especially with Michelle looking like this.

She was the only thing keeping me halfway sane these days. Those last few days before I had to leave. Leave.

I hadn't told her yet, that she couldn't come with me. But Sir Israfil was an asset to the council. And kept father level-headed when emotions welled up. I knew how that is and... he wouldn't do well without someone like this. And Sir Israfil would follow his sister everywhere, if it was too dangerous. And this... was too dangerous for his tastes. I knew.

It would be one of the worst good-byes.

Because she was one of the only people that saw that they were not all good, but- but...

…

I still looked at Michelle and I could swear there were tears in her eyes. She just sat there, on the bench, hands clenched on the seat and had the most stupid, wobbly smile on her face. Like she wanted to be angry, but she somehow... couldn't.

… since I knew her almost better than myself, I knew this to be true.

“What is it, Chelle?,” I twitched a bit, the tailor apparently enjoyed spiking me with needles. Well, they were under pressure...

“You're... you're just so beautiful,” I was not sure if I was even capable of putting this amount of adoration into a sentence. And... I mean... I knew she appreciated me and my body, but this was... a little excessive. I mean... she forgot to be fierce. That... didn't happen.

But it was... my wedding dress. And they got the paint and hair done as well – had toupéd it up and there were tiny curls falling down and framing my face.

… it was the day I was supposed to look perfect.

They put a belt around my middle, to better hold the accessories. And Michelle was just somewhat losing it, staring at me and somewhat... vibrating. I couldn't even be mad right there and then.

I let it happen and enjoy being adored by this fierce, impossible woman.

I mean... she had stared down my groom-to be when he had tried to talk to me during the preparations. Then lectured him about decency. She was not too great at talking to royalty when it had anything to do with my own comfort or safety.

She would be a great bridesmaid, no matter what other's said. And no matter how much I had to badger her into a dress. She agreed, in the end.

So, in another four days, she was whom I followed into the hall, filled with people, lead by my father to the altar. She was still looking fierce in her dress, ready to defend me at a moment's notice (only not if she looked at me, that still ended with a forlorn smile).

And then... the groom entered. And what in the goddesses name was he wearing.

Just... what.

He had matched colours with me, using navy blue and white, but otherwise... it... was nothing I had ever seen before, full of ornaments and that is... fit.

It was an asymmetrical... thing. A cape falling down on the opposite shoulder. And otherwise it... fit. I mean, I had seen him in his war outfit and the diplomatic clothes, but they never had... accentuated a figure. That was muscular. And...

… he really did have wide shoulders. And perfect hair.

He was wearing breeches, for all that was holy! There were sequins stitched to his uniform, too, and horizontal threads of navy blue and the reflected slightly and... I... he...

I looked away. Staring at form-fitting clothing was not appropriate. It was not.

And this was not part of our culture! He just... tried to make it fit in! And didn't take what he gave him, but made an effort to incorporate our colours to compromise and-

… just because it was clever didn't mean this was any less of a farce!

No matter how much this clung to perfectly formed calves.

… this day was just too full of people. I looked toward the priest again. She... would read the sermon. Would make us read our vows, would make us swear to be loyal, to be true. Would make us swear to stay at each other's side.

Because politics. What else.

And we read our vows. And I swore to serve the people – his and mine – and to be only the best for them and as his wife and he... swore to protect his people, to never let harm come to them again and to love me. To be there for me and honour me for the rest of my life. Because I was more than worth it.

And he looked bloody sincere.

We each accepted the tattoos on our wrists – a stylised hippocampus, crest animal of my family - drawn by the best artists in the land. And bowed before one another.

And the crowd cheered. And thus. We were pronounced husband and wife.

My first marriage – the one in my home was done. The second would follow when we reached the Southern Isles. At least I was spared until then.

Tomorrow... we would start the travels. And I would need to say good bye.

#1713 words #SamilnGabe #assaultsonvariousfronts

0 notes

lucids · 6 years

Photo

American Woman Becomes A Princess After Marrying An Ethiopian Prince.

Three Articles

Ariana Austin marries Joel Makonnen at lavish Orthodox Christian wedding with 13 priests.

Fairytales are not known for beginning in a Washington DC nightclub, but for one American woman it was where she met the Ethiopian prince who would go on to become her husband.

Ariana Austin, now 33, was on a night out with a friend when they were approached by Joel Makonnen in the Pearl nightclub.

“I said: ‘You guys look like an ad for Bombay Sapphire',” he told The New York Times about their first encounter.

“Not even five minutes later I said: 'You're going to be my girlfriend'.”

What he didn't reveal that night 12-years ago, was that plain old Joel was actually Prince Joel, the great-grandson of Haile Selassie I, Ethiopia's last emperor.

But after the couple started dating seriously, Mr Makonnen, who works as a lawyer, eventually revealed his royal heritage.

Born in Rome, his parents Prince David Makonnen and Princess Adey Imru Makonnen, had been forced to live in exile after a communist coup in his homeland.

His father had escaped the bloodshed in his homeland because he was studying abroad at the time. The family subsequently settled in Switzerland.

Mr Makonnen is related to Haile Selassie I through the emperor’s second son Prince Makonnen.

Haile Selassie was the 225th and last in the line of King of the Kings of Ethiopia, ruling the east African country for 40 years until he was overthrown in 1974.

He died the following year of “circulatory failure” – though many believe he had been murdered days earlier.

Art's curator, Ms Austin told the newspaper it is an “unbeatable heritage and history” that “combines sheer black power and ancient Christian tradition”.

The royal family traces its roots back to the Biblical King Solomon and the Queen of Sheba.

The pair married in a lavish Ethiopian Orthodox Christian wedding with 13 priests, two crowns and a pair of capes on 9 September.

Comments:

"The Bride and Groom in all Orthodox weddings are crowned. Just so you know."

"I have an Orthodox friend, and she tells me that all couples are required to wear the crowns during Orthodox ceremonies to signify being the king and queen of their house. Lovely couple and wish them much happiness."

Source: https://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/americas/merican-woman-princess-marries-ethiopian-prince-met-nightclub-washington-dc-ariana-austin-joel-a8004751.html

She Met Her Prince (for Real!) at a D.C. Nightclub

Ariana Austin and Joel Makonnen were married on Sept. 9 in a lavish ceremony in Temple Hills, Md. Mr. Makonnen is the great-grandson of Haile Selassie, the last emperor of Ethiopia.

Few love stories resemble a fairy tale as much as the courtship and marriage of Ariana Austin and Joel Makonnen. Of course, it helped that the groom is an actual prince and the bride has a prominent lineage of her own.

Mr. Makonnen, known as Prince Yoel, is the 35-year-old great-grandson of Haile Selassie, the last emperor of Ethiopia. And Ms. Austin, 33, is of African-American and Guyanese descent; her maternal grandfather was a lord mayor of Georgetown, the capital of Guyana.

As the couple noted on their wedding website, their union happened when “Old World aristocracy met New World charm.” The old and new combined on Sept. 9, in a marathon day of events that lasted from 11 a.m. until late in the evening, and took place within two states.

The festivities began with a ceremony at the Debre Genet Medhane Alem Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church in Temple Hills, Md. In an incense-filled sanctuary, guests in stockinged feet watched as at least 13 priests and clergymen helped officiate the Ethiopian Orthodox ceremony between Mr. Makonnen and Ms. Austin, who just days before had converted to the religion. Hours after the ceremony, the pair celebrated with a formal reception at Foxchase Manor in Manassas, Va., with 307 guests, amid gold sequins, platters of Ethiopian food and preboxed slices of Guyanese black cake for people to take home.

Their marriage had been more than a decade in the making. In the nearly 12 years since they first met on a dance floor at the Washington nightclub Pearl, in December 2005, Mr. Makonnen and Ms. Austin have pursued degrees, jobs and, at times, each other. Eventually, planning a wedding just became the next item on this ambitious couple’s to-do list.

“I think we both had this feeling that this was our destiny,” Ms. Austin said. “But I felt like I had things that I had to do.”

When the two met, Mr. Makonnen didn’t tell Ms. Austin about his royal background, and Ms. Austin, who was 21 at the time, wasn’t necessarily looking to meet her future husband. She was in the middle of a time in her life she fondly referred to as “the summer that never ended.” Mr. Makonnen, himself in bachelor mode, approached Ms. Austin and her friend Jami Ramberan, and told the two women that they looked like models for a brand of alcohol.

“I said, ‘You guys look like an ad for Bombay Sapphire,’ or whatever the gin was,” Mr. Makonnen recalled of the pickup line, one now infamous with Ms. Austin’s family. (At the wedding, even Ms. Ramberan, a bridesmaid, recalled the strangeness of that evening: “You don’t expect to meet the person you’re going to marry at Pearl.”)

Mr. Makonnen quickly focused on Ms. Austin: “Not even five minutes later I said, ‘You’re going to be my girlfriend.’ ”

His premonition proved correct.

Ms. Austin remembered being impressed with Mr. Makonnen’s worldliness. He was born in Rome while his parents, Prince David Makonnen and Princess Adey Imru Makonnen, were living in exile from Ethiopia. He grew up in Switzerland; his father died in 1989.

“He talked about weighty things as a young man,” Ms. Austin said. “He mentioned the revolution. Things that sound heavy for someone who was 23.”

Mr. Makonnen’s family is part of the Solomonic dynasty, whose reign ended in 1974. That year, a civil war in Ethiopia broke out after Haile Selassie, the 225th emperor of Ethiopia, was deposed by a Marxist Derg military coup. By the time of his death under mysterious circumstances in 1975, it was clear that Mr. Selassie had presided over a country divided by his legacy. He was deposed after months of political unrest directed at his administration, which was accused of being spendthrift and out of touch. The civil war lasted until a coalition of rebel groups overthrew the government in 1991.

The emperor, though, had been a powerful proponent of African anticolonialism, a leader adept at securing foreign aid for his country and pushing education initiatives. He was forced into exile when the Italians invaded Ethiopia in 1936, but returned in 1941 after convincing the British to aid him in a fight to secure his country’s independence.

Ms. Austin said she has marveled at the lore surrounding her new family, one whose lineage was said to reach back to the biblical King Solomon and the Queen of Sheba. “It’s unbeatable heritage and history,” Ms. Austin said. “It combines sheer black power and ancient Christian tradition.”

For ambitious couples, meeting and falling in love at a young age can quickly present the kind of timing problems that can doom a relationship. And Mr. Makonnen and Ms. Austin found themselves circling the globe without each other, though they remained in touch. After graduating from American University in 2006, Mr. Makonnen took a six-month internship in France.

Then Ms. Austin went to Paris for a year. In 2008, Mr. Makonnen returned to France and went on to Ethiopia, where he joined his uncle in starting Alchemy World, an organization meant to provide young Ethiopians with business and educational opportunities.

By the time Ms. Austin left to attend Harvard University in 2012 for a master’s degree in arts education, both had grown tired of the rotation. They took some time off from each other that year. But they were back together by Valentine’s Day in 2014. Mr. Makonnen, who was finishing up his law degree at Howard University, bought a princess-cut diamond ring and showed up at the home of Ms. Austin’s parents with the bauble in one hand and balloons in another.

Perhaps a bit nervous, he knocked too loudly, leading Ms. Austin to think the house was being burglarized. She called her parents, who were returning home from a dinner party.

“She thought somebody was trying to break in,” said Bobby Austin, Ms. Austin’s father. “And it was just the poor guy trying to propose to her.”

Ms. Austin remembered the episode with a laugh: “He was aggressively knocking so I didn’t answer. He came back, and then I opened the door.”

Finally, nearly a decade after they had met, both were in the same region.

“I think I said, ‘Let’s take this journey together,’ ” Mr. Makonnen said. “When I proposed she was like, ‘It’s about time.’ ”

They said they owed it to each other to try and set down roots, and both have settled into life in the Washington area. Mr. Makonnen works in the legal department of Otsuka America Pharmaceutical, and Ms. Austin works in philanthropy at the Executives’ Alliance for Boys and Men of Color, a division of Rockefeller Philanthropy Advisors.

Both have tried to use their skills to help each other. When Ms. Austin founded Art All Night, an overnight arts festival in Washington, she said, Mr. Makonnen gave her ideas for the project. And she wants to help him create a documentary about his great-grandfather. “A biopic is definitely on our agenda,” Ms. Austin said.

Despite all of the globe-trotting, those close to the couple say there were never doubts that the two would end up together.

“In many ways it feels like this day was written,” Sushama Austin-Connor, Ms. Austin’s older sister, said during the reception. “Ever since I have seen them together they always have been connected to each other. They have a deep-rooted friendship beyond anything else.”

Yaphet Kifle, a groomsman, said the two families had come together seamlessly. “You can tell they both value the same things: deep respect for families and their elders, and the value of marriage,” he said.

The couple say that the merging of their families came with only minor growing pains. Ms. Austin and her family had negotiated to bring her wishes into the tradition of an Ethiopian Orthodox ceremony. She had pushed for her father to walk her down the aisle, an unusual custom in this church. She was successful. Mr. Austin took his daughter’s arm as they entered the sanctuary, the train of her ivory Lazaro dress flowing behind her.

“It was a happy melding, I think,” said Ms. Austin’s mother, Joy Austin, the executive director of HumanitiesDC, an affiliate of the National Endowment for the Humanities. “We, as the New World, felt that the Old World was very receptive of us, and we were of them.”

Of the reception, Mr. Austin, the president of the Neighborhood Associates Corporation, a group focused on community engagement in Washington, said that it had been “a little bit daunting” to throw a multiday party that drew several members from one of the oldest families in the world. But he relaxed as he jokingly chided his three daughters for dancing and thanked several high-profile guests for attending.

Mr. Makonnen’s mother, a retired United Nations international officer, was among those in attendance. Other guests included several of Mr. Makonnen’s relatives who have connections to the family dynasty; Brandon T. Todd, a council member of Washington’s Fourth Ward; Eleanor W. Traylor, a scholar of African-American literature; and J. R. Deep Ford, Guyana’s ambassador to United Nations organizations in Geneva and the Government of Switzerland. Muriel Bowser, the mayor of Washington, could not attend but sent along her best wishes.

“Saturdays are prime politician days,” Mr. Todd said from his seat near the reception dance floor. “I had five things I canceled to be here. When Bobby and Joy ask you to show up, you show up.”

The reception came complete with a photo booth, a candy table and Bob Marley, Marvin Gaye and Bruno Mars hits. After the dancing died down, Mr. Makonnen and Ms. Austin, true to form, were planning to turn to the next thing on their to-do list: moving in together in Washington. On their wedding day, Ms. Austin still lived with a roommate in Washington, and Mr. Makonnen was in Alexandria, Va.

“If the wedding didn’t take so much time,” Mr. Makonnen joked, “we would have moved out already.”

Correction: October 22, 2017 The Vows column last Sunday, about the marriage of Ariana Austin and Joel Makonnen, misstated J.R. Deep Ford’s professional title. He is Guyana’s ambassador to United Nations organizations in Geneva and the government of Switzerland, not to the United Nations.

On This Day

When: Sept. 9, 2017

Where: The Debre Genet Medhane Alem Ethiopian Orthodox Tewahedo Church, Temple Hills, Md. A reception at Foxchase Manor, Manassas, Va.

New Year’s wedding: The couple married as close as they could to Enkutatash, the Ethiopian New Year, which is celebrated on Sept. 11.

Homemade touches: A bottle of Tej, an Ethiopian honey wine, was placed on each table. The wine was made by family friends of the couple.

Party flavors: Departing guests were given slices of Guyanese black cake with almond icing.

Source: https://www.nytimes.com/2017/10/13/fashion/weddings/she-met-her-prince-the-great-grandson-of-haile-selassie.html

American woman, 33, marries Ethiopian prince, 35, in a lavish wedding 12 years after they met in a Washington, DC nightclub.

Ariana Austin, 33, married 35-year-old Joel Makonnen, a great-grandson of the last emperor of Ethiopia, on September 9 in Maryland.

The couple married 12 years after they met on the dance floor of Washington, DC nightclub Pearl.

Makonnen picked Austin up by saying she looked like a model in a Bombay Sapphire advertisement.

Makonnen, now a lawyer for Otsuka America Pharmaceutical, is related to Emperor Haile Selassie I through his second son, Prince Makonnen.

He was born in Rome, where his family lived in exile after a 1974 military coup.

The Ethiopian royal family claims descent to the Biblical King Solomon and the Queen of Sheba.

An American woman became an African princess last month when she married into the royal family of Ethiopia - after meeting her future husband at a modern day 'ball'.

Ariana Austin, 33, married 35-year-old lawyer Joel Makonnen, a great-grandson of Haile Selassie I, the last emperor of Ethiopia, on September 9 in Maryland.

The couple married 12 years after they first met on the dance floor of Washington, DC nightclub Pearl.

Makonnen told the New York Times that he hit on his future bride and her friend using a cheesy pick-up line.

'I said, 'You guys look like an ad for Bombay Sapphire,' or whatever the gin was,' Mr. Makonnen recalled.

Makonnen says he immediately knew he wanted to date Austin.

'Not even five minutes later I said, 'You're going to be my girlfriend,'' he said.

While Makonnen didn't immediately tell Austin about his family, the truth about his heritage came out as they started to seriously date and it's something that fascinates Austin.

She appears excited to be a part of a family that traces their roots back to the Biblical King Solomon and Queen of Sheba.

'It's unbeatable heritage and history,' Austin said. 'It combines sheer black power and ancient Christian tradition.'

The two married last month in an elaborate Ethiopian Orthodox Christian wedding involving 13 priests in Temple Hills, Maryland.

The bride and groom both wore crowns and capes in the ceremony, making them look like the true royals they are.

While Austin may not have royal blood in her background, she does come from an African American/Guyanese family with rich histories abroad. Her maternal grandfather was lord mayor of Georgetown, the capital of Guyana.

Hours before the ceremony, they hosted a formal reception at Foxchase Manor in Manassas, Virginia where their 307 guests dined on platters of Ethiopian food and pre-boxed slices of Guyanese black cake.

Makonnen, or Prince Yoel as he is officially known, is related to the last emperor of Ethiopia, Haile Selassie I, through his second son, Prince Makonnen.

Haile Salassie ruled Ethiopia from 1930 to 1974, when he was overthrown by a Marxist Derg military coup.

Makonnen's father, Prince David, was studying abroad at the time, and was thus able to escape imprisonment.

Makonnen was born in Rome, where his parents were living in exile, and was raised in Switzerland.

When he met Austin, he was perusing an undergraduate degree at American University.

The couple quickly stood the test of a long distance relationship when, after graduating from American in 2006, Makonnen took a six-month internship in France.

Austin went to Paris the next year, where Makonnen returned in 2008 before going back to Ethiopia to start a organization with his uncle to help Ethiopian youth.

In 2012, Austin returned to the U.S. to get a master's degree in arts education at Harvard and the two decided to take a break that year.

But they were back together again by Valentine's Day 2014, when Makonnen popped the question with an aptly shaped princess-cut diamond ring.

Their engagement is a funny story. Makonnen went over to his girlfriend's house to propose, but he knocked on the door so forcefully that Austin thought someone was trying to break in and called her parents for help.

'He was aggressively knocking so I didn't answer. He came back, and then I opened the door,' she said.

The two moved in together after the wedding, and are living in the Washington, DC area.

Makonnen works in the legal department at Otsuka America Pharmaceutical.

His new wife works in philanthropy at the Executives Alliance for Boys and Men of Color.

Source: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-4985638/Woman-marries-Ethiopian-prince-met-nightclub.html

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