#african art deco

[artdecoandmodernist]

1924 George Barbier, Le Soir (Evening), Falbalas et fanfreluches: almanach des modes présentes, passées et futures.

"Art Deco Costumes By George Barbier" (Introduction by Madeleine Ginsburg, Curator, V&A Museum, London)

[uwmspeccoll]

The Ballad of the Brown Girl

The Ballad of the Brown Girl was Harlem Renaissance writer Countee Cullen's (1903-1946) first major poem, and this is the first edition of only 500 copies, published in New York and London by Harper & Brothers in 1927, with illustrations and page decorations by the unrelated Art Deco artist Charles Cullen (1887-?). Brown Girl is Countee Cullen's revision of a 17th-century English ballad based on a folk tale featuring two women with different color hair. Cullen's revision alters the descriptions to suggest they are of different races, establishing tensions between romance, segregation, and social hierarchy.

The white Charles Cullen grew up in Brooklyn and was living and working in Manhattan when he met the Black Countee Cullen around 1926 and illustrated four books for the writer: Copper Sun (1927), The Ballad of the Brown Girl (1927), an illustrated second edition of Color (1928), and The Black Christ and Other Poems (1929). It seems a significant coincidence that the two would share a last name, but the stars seem to have been aligned. For example, Countee Cullen's birth name was Countee LeRoy Porter and Charles Cullen was born in LeRoy, New York. Coincidence? We don't think so.

View another work by Countee Cullen.

View another book illustrated by Charles Cullen.

View other Black History Month posts.

[pagansphinx]

Aaron Douglas (American, 1899-1979) • Aspirations • 1936

An Idyll of the Deep South• 1934

[nanako998]

[hellavile]

LUV THIS SHIT | eren yeager.

‍ ‍ ☆. warnings — 3.1k. fem!reader, eren’s pent up from working out, asmr sexting, submissive reader, impact play [ face smack, spanking ] public arousal, indecent behavior, mating press, f!oral, fingering, profanity, established relationship, lots of making out, unprotected sex, eren’s aggressive, floor sex, riding, creampie, artist!reader, pet names, reader has black features, minors aren't allowed! 

‍ merry christmas! ♡

eren starts his day the same every morning. the alarm goes off at six o'clock which is never your favorite thing to hear considering you're not an early bird. usually groaning in your state of sleep and tugging the blankets away from him after he kisses you on your forehead and steps out of bed. you always snuggle on his side before the warmth he created grows cold. proceeds to take a steaming hot shower, tilting his neck back to let the heavy beats of water dampen his long hair. lathers his body with african black soap you picked up from a shop while SONDER plays from his speaker, careful not to blast it too loud to wake you up. it's your off day so he's respecting your wishes to hibernate all day.

he honestly hates leaving you alone in bed. sue him but being your little spoon is the best thing he's ever known. he's never slept so good in his life until he met you. never knew it felt so comfortable being in another persons arms. eren’s next step is to dress for the gym, the only reason he's up this early three times out of the week. a dark gray towel is wrapped low around his slim waist, tatted chest and arms running with water droplets as he wipes the foggy mirror clear to see his reflection. washing his face with a kale, spinach, and green tea cleanser along with brushing his teeth, cleaning his tongue with a scraper and gargling mouthwash. he forgets to do this backwards sometimes considering he has to eat first. the taste lingers and makes his food nasty.

afterwards, he’s moisturizing his face with cerave healing ointment and his pouty cotton candy lips with one of your babylips sticks. lathering his body in vaseline coca butter lotion and slipping on a olive green colored sweatpants with a black cropped metallica muscle tank, wrapping a matching black bandanna over the top of his towel-dried chestnut hair. he spritz this cologne you picked up at the mall when thinking of him called art deco amberwood by clive christian. makes you fall to your knees to suck him off every time now that he thinks about it.

by then it's near seven and he's down in the kitchen with his black airpod max’s over his ears listening to jazz while he blends his smoothie with spinach, kale, strawberries, blueberries, and pineapples. he gulps that down after filling a mason jar completely. and for further consumption, he makes avocado toast topped with chia seeds, himalayan salt and pepper and two strips of bacon each.

before he leaves he makes sure to run back up the stairs to double check on you to see if you needed anything before he left such as picking up a coffee from dunkin or anything from the art supply store. he peaks his head through the door to see you sprawled out, mouth open and snoring peacefully, cuddling his pillow. he smiles to himself, mumbling ‘my pretty girl’ before quietly tiptoeing close to the king-sized bed with satin sheets to give you a kiss or two before heading out, moving your bonnet aside to whisper that he loves you.

he's got his gym bag and his car keys when he leaves, taking the elevator down the parking lot of the loft you two live in, three years now. he finds his car parked directly next to yours. cute. the pretty wolf gray kia k5 besides his onyx lexus rc 300. there's a gym located in the building but he prefers the one your brother owns a few minutes out of the area.

it's around ten o'clock when you fully wake up, missing his presence already and pouting about it before heading to the shower yourself. sitting in a towel for a full hour stuck on tiktok and getting a craving for samyang carbonara noodles and rice cakes. it's really the only thing that made you leave the house today, throwing on a pair of eren’s gray nike shorts you had to roll up to properly sit on your hips, and a black tank, jewelry remaining on your skin everyday from layered necklaces to multiple bracelets. 

you're sitting in the starbucks drive thru which has an incredibly long line but you're not minding the wait, craving a pink drink suddenly. the sun was hitting nicely into your car so you decide to take photos to pass a little time, thumb slipping and accidentally opening the voice memos app with only four recordings, one of them fairly new. created about two weeks ago and you vaguely remember that night. it's about an hour and fifteen minutes long

'luv this shit <3’ is what it's titled. not remembering exactly how it went. you and eren only used this app whenever you're having sex, meaning those four audios were strictly nsfw. you bite your lip in curiosity, deciding to press play to hear it, flinching when you hear how loud you were screaming on top of forgetting that your phone is connected to your cars bluetooth. you swallow in panic, turning it off and sitting back in silence, twiddling your fingers, becoming impatient with the line now because you wanted to hear it. it had to be something the two of you made when you were intoxicated. or else you would've remembered it.

you've retrieved your pink drink, and now it was time to park, too impatient to wait and hear this. sipping your drink, you get comfortable, holding your phones speaker to your ear and pressing play yet again. there's music playing in the background, luv this shit by august alsina in specific, now you knew where the title came from. probably eren’s doing. a rush of heat swarms your cheeks and gut as you hear your boyfriend’s voice, deep and stern as he talks to you while skin connects and your moans overshadow the music. the sound of you kissing wetly makes you shift in your seat, feeling his soft lips on yours at the moment. you loved kissing him.

it lasts for about two minutes before eren’s voice becomes louder than yours when he's fucking you hard, your voice muffled by your hand you assume, doing that a lot since you think you're too loud. “let me fuckin’ hear it,” there's his voice again, unconsciously whimpering along with yourself in the audio. eren’s whining with you, the two of you gasping and listening to how wet you were. a loud smack erupts and you're crying his name, the memory slowly coming back. he smacked your face. the jewelry on his wrist prominent when he does it again, this time it's the outside of your thigh.

“rennnnnn! fuh-uuck.”

“i hear you, baby. come on, come on, come on, cum, cum, cum.” with every thrust he gets louder, hissing as your pussy constricts around his dick. “that's it, pretty. yeah.”

you nearly spill your drink over your lap, the cup slowly slipping from your grip after you zoned out, catching it quick and collecting yourself, setting it in the cup holder. you need to leave. actually, you need to send this to him. he has to be done at the gym by now. then again, you're never sure with him. the man could work out all day if he wanted.

being risky, you grin, pulling up his contact and sending him the audio, following with a text that said . . .

NEW MESSAGE

kuromi princess hello kitty baby star ♡

don't we sound pretty? <3

follicles of eren's hair stick to his sweaty forehead, putting it up before he started his workout, going on for about three hours now. RICH FLEX blasts in his headphones. the neckline of his top is doused with sweat, removing the boxing gloves off his hands to sit down and gulp a full bottle of water. checking his phone, he sees your message. lifting his brow at the audio you had sent, reading your response, and clicking it without hesitating. immediately when he hears your desperate pleading and skin smacking, his pupils dilate, clenching his jaw and checking his surroundings. not many people were in this area of the gym.

“fuck me, baby. fuck me, baby. fuck me, babyyy,” eren listens with wide eyes as he hears your pretty moans, skipping through the audio to hear bits and pieces.

“yeah, speak to me like that.”

eren grows shamelessly aroused from what he's hearing, swallowing hard and shifting his dick back in place, breathing heavier. he's mad at you. mad because you know he's in public and he gets easily turned on by anything regarding you. whether it be your scent, your smile, your eyes, or your fucking voice. when you talk, or scream his name. it's all the same. he's triggered by it all. and you know this, so why test him? not to mention the two of you haven't been sexually active because you've been caught up with work and painting and he's been working doubles. the only time you spend together is brief mornings in bed or one day weekends, usually sleeping all day or being lazy.

all he can think of this moment is fucking you rough and raw. gathering his belongings without another thought and sending you a brief text.

pretty boy ren <3

yea, okay.

it's so stressful walking with a hard dick, and eren really can't wait until he gets home to fuck you up. such a dirty girl needing to be put in place. he forgets his headphones have noise cancellation, so when he's speeding home like a dummy, music continues to thrum in his ears, acting like a complete madman. exactly five minutes before he enters the apartment, you're sitting in your usual corner of the loft where you've made your art station. sitting on the ground while incense flows and sza’s new album plays soundly. a canvas laying on the ground where you sat on a cushion, finger painting a collage of the weeknd’s discography since it's the 11th anniversary for echoes of silence. unaware of the message you received.

that is until you hear the familiar sound of keys jangling and in a matter of seconds, the front door flies open, there standing a big, tall, visibly irritated man. your eyes go wide from seeing him, eren kicking off his shoes, heavy feet stomping towards you and you sit up with curiosity, trying your hardest to hide your devious smile. you knew it'd have that effect on him. eren’s hot hand grabs your jaw fervently, clenching his before yanking your face close to his to connect your lips in a heated kiss. smacking his lips roughly over yours, moaning into his mouth, his eyes focused on your face as you close your eyes too comfortably for his liking. as if you're not in trouble for the shit you pulled.

your hands kept to yourself on either side of his wide shoulders, eren dragging you down to lay on your back onto the cushion you previously sat on, slipping off the black panties covering your neglected pussy, weeping, and waiting for him to get home to do exactly this. staring up at him with glee in your eyes, it's the opposite in his. he can't hear a thing you say because of his headphones, not bothering to toss them off because the only thing on his mind is sliding his dick inside of you and getting his nut off.

raising your knees without his help, he's pushing them further up to your chest, folding you still before arching his neck to release globs of spit onto your cunt three times max, each one emitting a ‘puh’ sound. you clench from his dirty act. his big body hovers over yours, heavy dick practically drenched in precum resting on your mound before eren angles his hips to slip into you. he doesn't give you time to brace yourself, gasping as he groans and thrusts his hips fast, your skin clapping and body jerking under him. beautiful green irises switching darker as he stares into your soul, your moans faintly being heard.

“think you fuckin slick, baby?” eren rasps, your mouth agape, his grip on your thighs harsh. “did that shit on purpose just so i can fuck that pretty pussy stupid on my cock, right?”

“y-yess,” he watches you nod drunkenly, your hands digging on your sides into the rug beneath you. every pound into your slick pussy vibrates into your throat, following his rhythm. happy tears brim your eyes.

“s’okay. ‘cause i got something for you.”

his pace hastens, heavy balls slapping against your ass as he drills deep, jackhammering almost, like a needy, inexperienced boy. your cunts squelching loud, hand pressing at his abdomen in attempt to slow him down but he only fucks you harder, air knocking from your lungs. it's so fucking hot the way he's handling you right now, like he's been so deprived of you for so long he couldn't stand it. couldn't even take his clothes fully off, keeping every piece on because he needed you that badly.

“ooh, i'm fucking cumming. ssss, fuck,” eren moans. you squeal as eren takes both your arms and crosses them over your tummy, holding them there while he puts his weight on you and grunts in your face. sweat dampening his bandanna, breath mixing with yours as he cums inside you. coating your walls with thick spurts of white. your knees buckle from the feeling, his lower halve twitching from the rush.

eren licks his lips, stilling his movements to take a breather, knocking back one of the ears to his airpods to hear how desperate you sound, slowly pulling his dick out, still hard.

“eren, i didn't cum,” you whine, squirming with an attitude.

“i think i knew that.”

you put your middle finger up to him for his smart ass tone, eren arching a brow and scooping you up without another word. smiling, you cling to him as he moves towards the couch, deciding to stay seated on the floor, lifting you so you sit on his lap. his cock resting on his stomach where you're able to see toned abs and a dark, neatly trimmed happy trail to match your cute brazilian strip all cause of that slutty, grunge crop top he has on. his back rests against the furniture. you take the initiative to remove these stupid headphones so you could put your hands and mouth around his neck.

“i don’t think you understand how much i thought about fuckin’ you today. you really fuckin’ don’t.” eren lands a heavy hand on your ass causing you to jump and scoot forward from leaning back on his knees. “could barely fucking focus. all because you sent me that shit.”

“and because you miss me,” you whisper, delicately skimming your lips over his, arching into him as he spreads your ass cheeks apart after smoothing over them. spanking you hard on either side until you gasp into his mouth and he could kiss you again.

“sink on it real slow,” eren taps your clit with the tip to say he wants it done now. sucking on your lip, you raise yourself till he's kissing the entrance and gently easing down, indenting crescent moons into his broad shoulders momentarily. dragging your hands to your waist, you rub over your body, hissing and throwing your head back, feeling a storm of euphoria fuel you. eren hums in fascination as you lose yourself in the bond.

“g’na say sorry with your pussy, baby?” eren taunts in a baby-like tone.

“mhmm,” what eren wants, eren gets. and if he wanted you to ride his dick you were going to. getting up on the tips of your toes and rode only on the tip first, eren choking on his spit with brows furrowed and praising you. soon, inching lower to bounce yourself up and down to his liking, being sure to clench your walls a little tighter just to hear him whine. when eren gets really feral he gets really loud. unable to control what his vocal cords let out. he used to think it was embarrassing, but the two of you have shared enough time together to dismiss judgment. he sounds so pretty when he's getting fucked good.

“shit, you keep fuckin’ me like that m’ not gonna last,” ignoring him, you continue to clap your ass down, skin interaction picking back up, eren’s hands on your hips just for leverage. he never needs to guide you. a few squeezes occasionally since he's so sensitive. painfully aroused it makes no sense.

“i can't last long,” you warn, pawing at his chest as you raise your ass and fuck him faster, eren moaning and helping you out by pounding up into you. you fall forward into his arms, yanking you down each time you'd rise back up. smacking your ass just to hear your voice pick up. “eren, fuck baby!”

“unh huh, keep goin’,” eren’s face scrunches up, whining in your ear while keeping one of his tatted arms wrapped around your backside. your thighs begin to burn but you know stopping isn't an option when he sounds that good in your ear. eren gets aggressive and hits into you harder, same time ass you drop down with more force, tugging at his hair and he whimpers your name.  “keep that shit up, baby. yeahh.”

it feels so good you start crying, missing this so much. holding onto him for dear life as he somehow moves quicker, slouching in his spot so his neck settles back onto the couch, slipping his right hand under your right thigh and raising his hips to fuck up into you, lifting you like you're one of his weights at the gym. you watch as he mumbles ‘fuck’ with his eyes scrolled back and mouth wide open, jawline sharp, and adam’s apple in his throat prominent. he looked so fucking good right now you just had to kiss his neck. eren hitting that spot so good you can't control yourself from screaming, mouthing at his neck and leaving hickeys. he smells good, hints of musk and that damn cologne you love, feels good, looks even better. then wonders why you act the way you did. he’s made a monster.

“you fuck me so good, ‘ren. love you so much, missed you so much,” at this point you're babbling, saying anything that comes from your brain mindlessly. it's enough to make eren bellow streams of curses before hiking your ass off and nutting over your back, eren releasing a high-pitched gasp as he stares up at the ceiling in a daze. vision blurry. 

before you complain, eren’s lifting you higher and scoots further down to sit you on his face, hot mouth munching on your soaked cunt with puffy lips. your eyes cross and you scream into the air, gripping the couch as he slides two fingers, middle and pointer, deep into your hole, thrusting while his fat tongue laps at your clit, silver cuban link on his wrist cold on your stomach. he's swallowing your arousal like he's drinking a glass of water, moaning into your pussy and spanking your ass with his unoccupied hand.

“oh my . . .  god,” you're breathless as you cum, legs twitching and squealing from the intensity of your orgasm, losing balance and falling forward. eren smirks and smacks your ass one last time before moving from below you, sitting on his knees behind you and pushing your back down to fix your arch, turning your head to face him, fucked out face staring at him like he was crazy for putting his dick back inside you. you already feel so sore. 

eren arches his brow. “oh, you thought i was done?” 

˖ ࣪ ⌨ ˚ ﹢tags :: @sailewhoremoon @dejwrites @getosbunny @massivelynervousprincess @gatoru @satotokii @sintiva @shamelesshoefairy​ @minniecums​ @kiitysstuff​ @itsn0ct​ @7inaa​ @444yeager​ ​

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Katharine Hepburn (Bringing Up Baby, The Philadelphia Story, The African Queen)—This woman. I have been obsessed with her for years. I know the urban legend is a popular one at this point of her walking around set in her underwear when her pants were stolen and she was left with only a skirt, but the pants thing is honestly enough for her to be the hottest in the room in my book. She refused to wear anything else at a time when the public in general and especially the studios did not like that. She was independent, stubborn, and so so very capable. Competency kink anyone? Also, if you want one final way that Katharine's entire life was saying "fuck you" to the establishment, it started young! Her mother took her to suffrage events, and she never got rid of that attitude of justice. I feel like I have barely scratched the surface of all the ways she was such a badass that I'm turning into a rambling mess instead.

Jessie Matthews (Evergreen, First a Girl, It's Love Again, Gangway)—known as “the dancing divinity”, jessie matthews was a british musical star of stage and screen in the 20s and 30s - if you're an enjoyer of lavish art deco musicals of the likes of fred and ginger, busby berkeley etc, definitely give her movies a try they are delightful! (tantalizingly there were multiple attempts made to pair her and fred together that never came to fruition - gaumont-british tried to get fred for evergreen and mgm wanted jessie for a damsel in distress.) and for the women in tuxedos enjoyers, her 1935 movie first a girl was the first english language remake of viktor und viktoria, famously later remade with julie andrews.

This is round 3 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Katharine Hepburn propaganda:

I'm sure one million people will submit her as an iconic Hollywood star but that iconicness might lead people to forget just how insanely hot she was like she had it ALL she was skilled she was funny she was smart she was beautiful AND she was likely bisexual

The single word I would use to explain Katherine Hepburn's appeal is *range*. In her acting career, that meant covering all the ground between lush period dramas and the comedies she did with Carey Grant and Spencer Tracey. In terms of hotness, it meant an uncanny ability to bring anything from a Dietrich-esque androgyny to some of the best Classic Hollywood Glamour you will ever see.

Katharine hep was so cool. The VIBES, the INDEPENDENCE,,, living life on her own terms.

she just had this.... bearing to her, this power. she could be funny, even silly (like in bringing up baby) but also so regal and elegant. she was nobody's fool and dear GOD that's so hot

Fancam link

She’s not only stunningly gorgeous (those eyes that pierce your soul! a jawline you could cut glass with!) but her delivery and physical presence in roles gives off confidence and authority in such a sexy way (truly the biggest dick energy of Old Hollywood). Her fiery energy in The Philadelphia Story? Unmatched.

God she's. She's so hot y'all. She has the range!!!!! Funny and dramatic and lovely

She IS the transatlantic accent. Classically gorgeous and such a strong personality.

She's literally one of the funniest women to ever live! She goes shot for shot with Cary Grant in Philadelphia Story and we damn well love her for it! She's the most annoying creature to ever live in Bringing Up Baby but she's so insane and funny that we simply cannot help but fall in love with her (and root for her to give Grant an aneurysm!)

i know she's accounted for but i really want to be sure someone has submitted the scene in bringing up baby where she's pretending to be a gangster

She simply stuns onscreen; you cannot do anything but be captivated by her presence. Also a non-gender-conforming icon and mild tumblr celebrity by virtue of that one picture from The Warrior's Husband (stage play).

Katharine Hepburn was out here casually changing the lives of young butch lesbians with her gender swag! She wore pants even when people said she shouldn’t, she refused to marry or have kids, and she wore menswear in at LEAST one movie!

If I start thinking about her face for too long I will cry she is so so hot. Katherine is so charismatic and charming in everything she appears in - watch her adopt a leopard and fall in love with her. Also she has the biggest dick energy ever (she and her pal Lauren Bacall share that accolade). Also had an incredibly long and varied career from screw ball comedies to serious dramas - she’s a queen of the screen and I adore her.

Someone's got to mention it, but she's won the most Oscars out of any performer and is largely considered one of the greatest actresses ever. She's got an incredible voice, an incredible presence, and she absolutely steals every scene she's in. She was private person and deemed standoffish and unapproachable, but she was also profoundly concerned for people's rights and was an outspoken supporter of abortion access. Finally, the Katharine Hepburn slacks look is just iconic. I mean look at her.

(I hope someone else submits real propaganda but just in case they don't:) Cries. Screams. Wails. The woman who singlehandedly made me realize I was bi. A real "do i want to look like her. be her. or be with her.' crisis, where the answer was all three. Holy shit please all three.

Jessie Matthews:

Star of British 1930s stage and screen, she introduced classic songs by Noel Coward and Rogers and Hart to English audiences, and then played perky heroines, but today it’s her genderswapping role in First A Girl that probably gets most attention.

[kimolisai]

Using Bing Create with the prompt: a digital painting of a beautiful 1940s african american femme fatale, tall, red lips, wearing a feather boa, jewelry, dramatically posed, dark background is retro 40s art deco style. painting in the style of Rolf Armstrong.

[stephensmithuk]

The Three Garridebs

Originally published in 1925 and part of the 1927 Case-Book collection.

Refusals of honours are fairly common in Britain - some find the whole thing silly, some these days object to being in something called the "Order of the British Empire", some have political disagreements and others may hold out for something higher.

The South African War refers to the Second Boer War. This is going to get its own post at a later date.

"Britisher" was a contemporary term for British people; most people now use "Brit".

The "wheat pit" in Chicago refers to the Chicago Board of Trade Building, where wheat futures were traded. The building on the site was demolished in 1929 due to structural issues and replaced by the 1930 Art Deco building still on the site today.

Tyburn Tree refers to the former public execution site at Tyburn, near where Marble Arch is located today, which had a three-legged triangular gallows used for mass executions. The last execution was carried out there in 1783, before executions moved to Newgate Prison, now the site of the Old Bailey. A plaque marks the location.

Sotheby's and Christie's are two famous London auction houses.

Sir Hans Sloane was an Anglo-Irish physician, naturalist and collector, whose personal collection was bequeathed to the British nation on his death in 1753, forming the basis of three of London's major museums.

An artesian well is a well that brings water to the surface without pumping as it's under pressure below.

This was a time when the political machines were very much active in Chicago.

"Queen Anne" refers to the Baroque style of architecture popular during her reign from 1702 to 1714. There was a Queen Anne Revival style going at the time, which is somewhat different. Neither should be confused with the American style of architecture of that name.

The Bank of England is the sole printer of banknotes in England and Wales. Seven banks in Scotland and Northern Ireland are able to print banknotes there, but these are technically not legal tender and will generally be refused in England.

[nancydrewwouldnever]

George Hoyningen-Huene, Josephine Baker, for Vanity Fair, 1929

In one of the most iconic images of her long iconic career, Josephine Baker posed for Vanity Fair wearing necklaces designed by Art Deco period French designer Jean Dunand (and not much else).

Jean Dunand, "Giraffe" jewelry set, ca. 1927, oréum and lacquer

Dunand's jewelry designs show the influence traditional African arts and crafts had within the Art Deco period, as their strong geometric motifs became increasingly referenced in Western art. Also influencing Dunand's design is the popularity of Egyptian revival styles in jewelry which began after the discovery of the Tomb of Tutankhamun in 1922.

Dunand's "Giraffe" jewelry was immensely popular within its time, worn by celebs and socialites, and produced in two color variants.

[world-of-wales]

CATHERINE'S STYLE FILES - 2022

22 NOVEMBER 2022 || The Princess of Wales attended a State Banquet held in the honour of the South African President at Buckingham Palace in London.

Catherine opted for -

Bespoke version of the Elspeth gown in white with shoulder embellishments by Jenny Packham

Queen Mary’s Lover’s Knot Tiara

Princess Diana's South Sea Pearl Drop Earrings

Royal Family Order of Queen Elizabeth II

Art Deco Diamond Set Brooch from Bentley & Skinner

Dame Grand Cross of the Royal Victorian Order Sash and Badge

Dame Grand Cross of the Royal Victorian Order Star

Queen Elizabeth II's Four-Strand Pearl Bracelet

Butterfly Box Clutch in White Satin by Alexander McQueen

'Rania 105' Pumps in silver from Gianvito Rossi

[nyc-looks]

Raissa

“I'm wearing a 70s polyester shirt dress with a 20s Art Deco revival print found through the Gem vintage search app, boots by New York & Company, and earrings made of African wax print (Ankara) fabric, purchased at the National Museum of African American History and Culture.”

Apr 9, 2022 ∙ Chelsea

[uwmspeccoll]

Copper Sun

Last week we brought you Harlem Renaissance poet Countee Cullen's (1903-1946) first major poem The Ballad of the Brown Girl. Today we present Cullen's second collected book of poetry, Copper Sun, published in New York by Harper & Brothers in 1927, with illustrations by the same artist who illustrated Ballad, the unrelated Art Deco artist Charles Cullen (1887-?). Copper Sun is a collection of over fifty poems that explore race, religion, and sexuality in Jazz Age America, and particularly the possibility of unity between white and black people, as exemplified in the two Cullens, one black, the other white.

View more work by Countee Cullen.

View other books illustrated by Charles Cullen.

View other Black History Month posts.

[ibuprofen-exe]

WIP Introductions Part One

Hospitality is Hell

I thought I would introduce some of my dearly beloved original characters so I could talk at length about them in the future. 

Warning: The post below the cut has mentions of death, tobacco, suicide, and war. There isn’t anything particularly graphic, but please be safe.

Status: outlined, on a break

Medium: script

In an industrial, capitalistic interpretation of Hell, work is scarce and agonizing in poverty is commonplace. Victor Chen, recently laid off from his unforgiving factory job, finds work at the mysterious Grand Motel, run by its shrewd owner, Hilbert, and he must endure the suffering of working in hospitality.

Characters:

Victor Chen, bear (he/him), gay, disabled (post polio syndrome and autism), Chinese American, Catholic (1919-1950)

Kerosene by Bad Religion Once a drug racketeer and restaurant waiter, Victor was murdered trying to escape his life of crime. He works as the bartender of the Grand Motel, though he would rather not work at all. Fact: Victor was orphaned at a young age, and spent most of his childhood in his uncle’s restaurant.

Barbara Hilbert, agender (they/them), aroace, disabled (OCD), Black American, Baptist (1903-1942)

Paint Me Black Angels by Eartha Kitt Once a bootlegger, Hilbert lost their life to a fatal case of influenza. They work as the owner of the Grand Motel, taking great pride in completing a dream they could not in life. Fact: Hilbert loves fashion and often goes on long shopping trips to buy anything with sequins, shoulder pads, or loud prints.

Donovan Sandoval, bigender (he/him, she/her), gay, disabled (ADHD), Salvadoran American, Catholic, (1955-1990)

Me and Julio Down By the Schoolyard by Paul Simon Once a telemarketer and scam artist, Donovan killed himself after being forcibly outed as a gay man. She works as the accountant and bellhop of the Grand Motel, struggling to handle multiple positions. Fact: Donovan has had a terrible nicotine addiction ever since she was a teen, and would often tell her mother she would quit when she was dead. That has yet to happen.

Sachiko Fujimoto, butch (she/her, he/him), bisexual, disabled (NPD and congenital amputation), Japanese, Protestant (1952-1977)

Ue Wo Muite Arukou by Kyu Sakamoto Once the leader of a girl gang, Sachiko died during a freak diving accident. She works as the receptionist of the Grand Motel, much to her irritation. Fact: Sachiko has adult braces from years of ignoring her dentist as a teenager. She hates them.

Sandeep D’Costa, cisgender (he/him), aromantic gay, disabled (enucleation and PTSD), Indian, Catholic (1917-1946)

Vera by Pink Floyd Once a soldier on the African front of the Second World War, Sandeep lost his life during complications in surgery. He works as the resident musician of the Grand Motel and takes great pride in his piano skills. Fact: Sandeep received his musical training in the church choir, but he dreamed of being on the radio.

Settings:

Paradise

Welcome to Paradise by Green Day The premiere vacation city of any well-to-do individual looking for a reprieve from Hell. Vibes: neon lights, vices, pink stucco, novelty dining, astroturf, distant smokestacks, and the smell of rot

The Grand Motel

Hotel California by The Eagles A budget location on the outskirts of Paradise owned and operated by Barbara Hilbert. Vibes: tile pools, peeling wallpaper, the smell of cigarettes, wrought iron balconies, art deco roofs, and carpeted bathrooms

Thanks for reading (⁠｡⁠･⁠ω⁠･⁠｡⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠♡

[hollywoods-angel]

josephine <3

josephine baker was an american dancer, singer, actress and also a spy during ww2! her iconic style was groundbreaking for the 1920s. additionally, she was the first black woman to star in a major motion picture, a silent film in 1927 called siren of the tropics. her glamour and smile have captivated people since the 20s and her story is nothign short of mindblowing. also she had a pet cheetah named chiquita :)

josephine grew up in poverty and struggled with hunger which led to her becoming a live-in domestic for white families at age 8. she dropped out of school at 12 and at 13 she was working as a waitress, doing street corner dancing and living in cardboard shelters. she got married the same year. at 15 she got remarried, but left her husband when her vaudeville troupe was booked in nyc.

at 19 josephine went to paris and danced in multiple theaters. she was an instant success in france, and was critical to the 'art deco' movement. her style was iconic and her artificial banana skirt and gelled hair has become an iconic look. she continued to tour throughout the 20s and 30s, and was the first african american star to visit yugoslavia. in 1931 she released her most popular song about her love for france, and when ww2 began she joined the french resistance and was a spy. after the war she was granted the 'resistance medal,' the 'croix de guerre' and was named the chevailer of 'the legion d'honneur'

josephine's legacy is more than her iconic style and stunning beauty. she was a fearless person who built her own success and hoped to help others less fortunate. during the 50s she played an important part of the civil rights movement and in 1963 she walked at the side of martin luther king jr on the march of washington. she refused to play for segregated audiences, worked with the naacp and adopted 12 children from all sorts of backgrounds to show that children from various part of the world could be happy together. her life was filled with so many triumphs- from dancing in paris to being a spy- there was nothing she couldn't do!

[mamabearwonders]

NFS. This is for my yearbook lovers. Emporia High School in Emporia, Kansas. Senior class of 1932. Found in my town destined for the trash in a thrift store.💎Story about defeating racism, a cute Christmas story about dogs (ADORABLE doggie guest list)☃️🐕.

Look at that handwriting! WOW! 🖋️

UPDATE🌠~ I may be able to reunite the yearbook with the family! I couldn't find anything on Google about her. And her face in a diamond shaped portrait like the cover (just connected that). I thought that the address she had written in was the high school address. It's not! That would be 110 years old today at the youngest. She could still be alive. And I'm not sure if her family still lives in the original house, but it would be wonderful to try to connect the family. It's like time travel! Being able to see your relative over 100 years ago and what they were like.

If the art deco style cover, the time gone by elegant handwriting and signatures isn't a treat itself- I found out some fascinating progressive history! Has nothing to do with the yearbook, but with what the owner of the yearbook (Beth) was experiencing at this time. I got a little swept away in the history.

91 years ago in the Dust Bowl era, a man named William Allen White (pictured with his wife) was running for governor. He owned the newspaper agency in town. His #1 goal was to get rid of the KKK. His daughter Mary (wait til you hear about her)! went to one of their public meetings and got ahold of his dog. When she released him, he went directly to his owner revealing who he was behind the mask. So he was outed in front of everyone.

Both dad and daughter frequented Stringtown. This was the section where African American people lived in that time where they befriended folks.

His daughter was as wild as the prairie winds. I hope I can do her memory some justice. At 16, her dad called her a "Peter Pan". She didn't want to grow up. She didn't like to wear dresses (preferred khakis), didn't want to settle down with one boy and was known for riding around town waving to everyone. Black or white, old or young, man or woman. She was never really religious, but she knew the church was an agency of help for a lot of people so she joined just to help the homeless and her favorite was the big Thanksgiving feast.

the 1920s, William received a letter from a young black man, Floyd Lucas, who wanted to attend college in the town to stay close to family, but the college denied him his dream of being a doctor because they feared he would cause other students to leave.

So William wrote a letter on Floyd's behalf telling them to enroll him. And he became the first person of color to attend college in the town ever.

In 1933, George - er - Sandy White (his 15 year old Scottish Terrier) was throwing a Christmas party. He even decked out a tiny Christmas tree just for his little dog with bologna on the branches. "Refreshments were served at 11:45 and completely eaten in 27 seconds".

Invited guests were Snowball and Chigger Lindsay, WuWu Thudim, Pal Triplett, Tex Dando, Jack Williams, Pepper Just, Bingo Hirschler, Mack Hughes, Mick Swap, Snappy Lowther, Ricky Lambert, and Gerald Newman Sprague. Jack Williams, whose master was 15-year-old Rex Williams, was the best decorated dog at the party. He had a wide pink ribbon tied around his stomach with a bow knotted over his back.

Mary's life ended tragically young at 16 (picture #2). Her last day on Earth was filled with happiness. She had been working really hard on a paper and wanted to get some fresh air. I believe she dealt with sickness when she was a child and I think she still had some complications as a teenager and so riding helped her feel free. And her dad joked in the obituary that she would have laughed that she met her end this way because horses would always fall in her lap and love to be petted by her, but then she tragically fell off a horse and fractured her skull in a terrible accident.

Her community and her family remember her as a rambunctious teenager that just did not want to settle down. She was tired of being a perspective mayor's daughter and just wanted to be like any other teenager and her own person like teens of today. She had a thirst for justice in the world. I wonder what her life could have been like if she had lived past being 16.

At her funeral, they played Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata and ended with Tchaikovsky's pathetic Symphony (yep that's the actual name)! She loved to listen to it on the phonograph in certain moods and then it ended with the Lord's Prayer by her friends who were also her pallbearers.

Her dad says, "She brought home riotous stories of her adventures. She loved to rollick; persiflage was her natural expression at home. Her humor was a continual bubble of joy. She seemed to think in hyperbole and metaphor. She was mischievous without malice, as full of faults as an old shoe. No angel was Mary White, but an easy girl to live with for she never nursed a grouch five minutes in her life."

Then said about this when the funeral ended. "A rift in the clouds in a gray day threw a shaft of sunlight upon her coffin as her nervous, energetic little body sank to its last sleep. But the soul of her, the glowing, gorgeous, fervent soul of her, surely was flaming in eager joy upon some other dawn."

What a fascinating town! I would never have known anything about Kansas without that yearbook. Now I'm going to be on the hunt for more yearbooks and antiques from this era from Emporia, Kansas! I wonder what the lives of these seniors were like and if perhaps they knew the family.

Sources ~

https://www.emporia.edu/libraries-archives/special-collections-archives/access/special-collections/black-emporia-interpretations-and-connections-collection/black-emporia-stringtown/

https://www.kshs.org/kansapedia/mary-white-obituary/10159

[mybeingthere]

A necklace of yellow-colored material with solid colored beats throughout the necklace

Jacqueline Irène Lillie (French, b. 1941)

Austria, Vienna, 1992

Glass filaments, glass beads, knotted silk

Diam: 28.8 cm92.3.47, 7th Rakow Commission

Internationally recognized for her innovative, sculptural work in beads and mixed media, Jacqueline Lillie is the first artist to receive a Rakow Commission for jewelry.Originally inspired by the early 20th century jewelry produced by the Wiener Werkstätte (Vienna Workshops), Lillie’s interests have expanded to include African and native American jewelry, Russian Constructivist painting and graphics, Art Deco design, and the wide-ranging products of the Bauhaus. Her intention, she says, is not to revive earlier styles but to “produce work that reflects attention to minute detail and a subtle use of color.

”Lillie’s jewelry often takes the form of neckpieces or brooches constructed of single or multiple beaded spheres, ovals, and squares that she combines with metal. She also makes beaded bracelets and other articles of adornment. Her beading is characteristically tightly woven, usually in geometric patterns.

The Rakow Commission neckpiece is an unusual work for her in that she combines two distinctly different types of glass products: fiberglass monofilament and glass seed beads. The layers of glass fibers and multicolored beads are reminiscent of the lengths of trade beads strung on raffia palm fibers that are commonly found in West Africa. Yet, her necklace is a contemporary statement that emphasizes the versatility of glass, a material both traditional and modern.

https://info.cmog.org/rakow.../jacqueline-irene-lillie