#lace bertha

[gogmstuff]

Emily, Lady Isham by Richard Buckner (Lamport Hall - Lamport, Northamptonshire UK). From bbc.co (now artuk.org) 729X944.

[mydaylight]

THE GILDED AGE COSTUME APPRECIATION

Bertha Russell's blue-and-white striped morning dress with magenta orchids pattern and white lace

[everythegildedageoutfit]

Every Outfit in The Gilded Age - Outfit 27 - Bertha Russell's outfit 9 - Season 1, Episode 1

[misscromwellsmonocle]

Bertha (1890), from Belgium

[resplendentoutfit]

Federico de Madrazo y Kuntz (Italian, 1815-1894)• María Josefa del Águila Ceballos, Marquesa de Espeja • 1852

The dress worn in the portrait above features what is called a "bertha" neckline. It is usually made of lace or another thin fabric. It is generally flat and round, covering the low neckline of a dress, and accentuating a woman's shoulders. A bertha neckline was worn off the shoulders, often trimmed with deep lace (3″ – 6″). The style was most frequently worn by upper- and middle-class women during the Victorian era; a woman from the more common classes would seldom have shown that much flesh.

Ball gown, probably American • Silk, cotton • c. 1860 • Metropolitan Museum of Art Costume Institute, New York City

c. 1895

There was also this item, called the Bertha collar. It was made of lace and detachable so as to be utilized with different dresses.

[awkward-sultana]

(Almost) Every Costume Per Episode + Bertha Russell’s pink an silver lace dress in 1x01

[merymoonbeam]

The Morrigan Part II.

This is a continuation of my post The Morrigan. In that post I talked about how Mor could be the High Queen. In this post we are gonna talk about her connection to Wild Hunt.

I went to look a the Morrigan's wiki page and found this.

It has also been suggested that she was closely linked to the fianna, and that these groups may have been in some way dedicated to her. These were "bands of youthful warrior-hunters, living on the borders of civilized society and indulging in lawless activities for a time before inheriting property and taking their places as members of settled, landed communities." If true, her worship may have resembled that of Perchta groups in Germanic areas.

we are gonna talk about two things in here -- Fianna and Perchta.

Fianna:

while I was writing my Wild Hunt post I found out that Fionn and Fianna are the wild hunt in Ireland.

and We have a Fionn in Acotar.

Rhys’s eyes flicked to Ataraxia, then to Cassian. “Some strains of the mythology claim that one of the Fae heroes who rose up to overthrow them was Fionn, who was given the great sword Gwydion by the High Priestess Oleanna, who had dipped it into the Cauldron itself. Fionn and Gwydion overthrew the Daglan. A millennium of peace followed, and the lands were divided into rough territories that were the precursors to the courts—but at the end of those thousand years, they were at each other’s throats, on the brink of war.” His face tightened. “Fionn unified them and set himself above them as High King. The first and only High King this land has ever had.”

So the Morrigan is linked to Fianna which is the wild hunt and we have a Fionn in acotar who has the same name of the leader of wild hunt.

now onto...

Perchta:

Perchta or Berchta (English: Bertha), also commonly known as Percht and other variations, was once known as a goddess in Alpine paganism in the Upper German and Austrian regions of the Alps. Her name may mean "the bright one" (Old High German: beraht, bereht, from Proto-Germanic *berhtaz) and is probably related to the name Berchtentag, meaning the feast of the Epiphany. Eugen Mogk provides an alternative etymology, attributing the origin of the name Perchta to the Old High German verb pergan, meaning "hidden" or "covered". Perchta is often identified as stemming from the same Germanic goddess as Holda and other female figures of Germanic folklore (see Frija-Frigg). According to Jacob Grimm and Lotte Motz, Perchta is Holda's southern cousin or equivalent, as they both share the role of "guardian of the beasts" and appear during the Twelve Days of Christmas, when they oversee spinning.

so she is connected to Holda(keep the red highlighted Frija/Frigg part in mind we are gonna talk about that) and with that they both share the role of "guardian of the beasts"

We have beasts in acotar, in Wild Hunt actually.

“Oh, I do not think so,” Lanthys seethed. “I rode in the Wild Hunt before you were even a scrap of existence, witch from Oorid. I summoned the hounds and the world cowered at their baying. I galloped at the head of the Hunt, and Fae and beast bowed before us.”

“We shall rebuild to what we were before the golden legions of the Fae cast off their chains and overthrew us. We shall resurrect the Wild Hunt and ride rampant through the night. We shall build palaces of ice and flame, palaces of darkness and starlight. Magic shall flow untethered again.” Nesta could see the portrait Lanthys wove into the air around them. She saw herself on a black throne, a matching crown in her unbound hair. Enormous onyx beasts—scaled, like those she’d seen on the Hewn City’s pillars—lay at the foot of the dais. Ataraxia leaned against her throne, and on her other side … Lanthys sat there, his hand laced through hers. Their kingdom was endless; their palace built of pure magic that lived and thrived around them. The Harp sat behind them on an altar, the Mask, too, but the golden Crown wasn’t there.

“The Daglan delighted in terrorizing the Fae and humans under their control. The Wild Hunt was a way to keep all of us in line. They’d gather a host of their fiercest, most merciless warriors and grant them free rein to kill as they pleased. The Daglan possessed mighty, monstrous beasts—hounds, they called them, though they didn’t look like the hounds we know—that they used to run prey to ground before they tortured and killed them. It’s a terrible history, and much of it might be elaborated myths.” “The hounds looked like the beasts in the Hewn City,” Nesta said quietly.

so Hounds/beasts= The Wild Hunt and through Pertcha The Morrigan is connected to the "guardian of the beasts"

moving on...

This next part is interesting.

In some descriptions, Perchta has two forms; she may appear either as beautiful and white as snow like her name, or as elderly and haggard. In many old descriptions, Perchta had one large foot, sometimes called a goose foot or swan foot. Grimm thought the strange foot symbolized her being a higher being who could shapeshift to animal form. He noticed that Bertha with a strange foot exists in many languages (Middle German "Berhte mit dem fuoze", French "Berthe au grand pied", Latin "Berhta cum magno pede", Italian " Berta dai gran piè", title of a medieval epic poem of Italian area): "It is apparently a swan maiden's foot, which as a mark of her higher nature she cannot lay aside...and at the same time the spinning-woman's splayfoot that worked the treadle".In the Tyrol she appears as little old woman with a very wrinkled face, bright lively eyes, and a long hooked nose; her hair is disheveled, her garments tattered and torn.

I talked about Swan maiden in my Seidr post.

In myths Frejya/Frigg(remember the red highlighted part) has seidr magic and Freyja also has:

Freyja is the owner of the necklace Brísingamen, rides a chariot pulled by two cats, is accompanied by the boar Hildisvíni, and possesses a cloak of falcon feathers.

And swan maidens:

The swan maiden is a mythical creature who shapeshifts from human form to swan form. The key to the transformation is usually a swan skin, or a garment with swan feathers attached. In folktales of this type, the male character spies the maiden, typically by some body of water (usually bathing), then snatches away the feather garment (or some other article of clothing), which prevents her from flying away (or swimming away, or renders her helpless in some other manner), forcing her to become his wife.

So they have a "swan skin" with swan feathers which helps them shapeshift.

The question is...is Mor going to turn into a bird like the girls in Koschei's lake? Is she connected to Vassa? And more interesting thing is that in myths The Morrigan can shapeshift--into a crow.

The Morrígan is described as the envious wife of The Dagda and a shape-shifting goddess, while Badb and Nemain are said to be the wives of Neit. She is associated with the banshee of later folklore.

The Dagda...The Daglan in acotar who has the hounds and they had the Wild Hunt....

The Morrígan is mainly associated with war and fate, especially with foretelling doom, death, or victory in battle. In this role she often appears as a crow, the badb.

and lastly from Pertcha's page.

According to Jacob Grimm (1882), Perchta was spoken of in Old High German in the 10th century as Frau Berchta and thought to be a white-robed goddess who oversaw spinning and weaving, like the myths of Holda. He believed she was the feminine equivalent of Berchtold, and was sometimes the leader of the Wild Hunt.

Now I'm gonna talk more about Mor connection to Wild Hunt in acotar and some connections.

While talking about the hounds I took Lanthys's quotes. He was a part of the Wild Hunt.

“Oh, I do not think so,” Lanthys seethed. “I rode in the Wild Hunt before you were even a scrap of existence, witch from Oorid. I summoned the hounds and the world cowered at their baying. I galloped at the head of the Hunt, and Fae and beast bowed before us.”

But what is Lanyths actually? Cassian gives us this information. He is a First God.

Cassian took a bite of food. A good sign that this, at least, was acceptable territory. “When you lived in the human world, you had legends of the dread beasts and faeries who would slaughter you if they ever breached the wall, didn’t you? Things that slithered through open windows to drink the blood of children? Things that were so wicked, so cruel there was no hope against their evil?” The hair on her neck rose. “Yes.” Those stories had always unnerved and petrified her. “They were based on truth. Based on ancient, near-primordial beings who existed here before the High Fae split into courts, before the High Lords. Some call them the First Gods. They were beings with almost no physical form, but a keen, vicious intelligence. Humans and Fae alike were their prey. Most were hunted and driven into hiding or imprisonment ages ago. But some remained, lurking in forgotten corners of the land.” He swallowed another mouthful. “When I was nearing three hundred years old, one of them appeared again, crawling out of the roots of a mountain. Before he went into the Prison and confinement weakened him, Lanthys could turn into wind and rip the air from your lungs, or turn into rain and drown you on dry land; he could peel your skin from your body with a few movements. He never revealed his true form, but when I faced him, he chose to appear as swirling mist. He fathered a race of faeries that still plague us, who thrived under Amarantha’s reign—the Bogge. But the Bogge are lesser, mere shadows compared to Lanthys. If there is such a thing as evil incarnate, it is him. He has no mercy, no sense of right or wrong. There is him, and there is everyone else, and we are all his prey. His methods of killing are creative and slow. He feasts on fear and pain as much as the flesh itself.”(acosf)

So we learn quiet a few things from this quote.

Lantys is a first god.

First gods were near-primordial beings who existed before the High Fae split into courts, before the high lords.

They were beings with almost no physical form, but a keen, vicious intelligence.

But some First gods remained, lurking in forgotten corners of the land.”

Now how this connects to Mor? The Mor's acofas chapter.

In Mor's chapter we have this:

But Mor scented nothing, saw nothing. The tendril of power she speared toward the woods revealed only the usual birds and small beasts. A hart drinking from a hole in an iced-over stream. Nothing, except—.There, between a snarl of thorns. A patch of darkness. It did not move, did not seem to do anything but linger. And watch. Familiar and yet foreign. Something in her power whispered not to touch it, not to go near it. Even from this distance. Mor obeyed. But she still watched that darkness in the thorns, as if a shadow had fallen asleep amongst them. Not like Azriel’s shadows, twining and whispering. Something different. Something that stared back, watching her in turn. Best left undisturbed. Especially with the promise of a crackling fire and glass of wine at home. “Let’s take the short route back,” she murmured to Ellia, patting her neck. The horse needed no further encouragement before launching into a gallop, turning them from the woods and its shadowy watcher. Over and between the hills they rode, until the woods were hidden in the mists behind them. What else might she see, witness, in lands where none in the Night Court had ventured for millennia?(acofas)

She sees a shadows... and what we know about the first gods? with almost no physical form.

It stares back at her, watching her...and what we know about the first gods? but a keen, vicious intelligence.

She was in the lands where none in the Night Courth had ventured for Millennia... what we know about the first gods? lurking in forgotten corners of the land.

Did she saw a First God? Are there more like it? Why mor was the one to see it? This is where her connection to Wild Hunt comes from? She is connected to Wild Hunt? Maybe she is going to be the leader of the Wild Hunt?

Let's not forget that in Wild Hunt myth there are valkyries.

The Wild Hunt is a folklore motif occurring across various northern European cultures. Wild Hunts typically involve a chase led by a mythological figure escorted by a ghostly or supernatural group of hunters engaged in pursuit. The leader of the hunt is often a named figure associated with Odin in Germanic legends, but may variously be a historical or legendary figure like Theodoric the Great, the Danish king Valdemar Atterdag, the dragon slayer Sigurd, the WelshpsychopompGwyn ap Nudd, biblical figures such as Herod, Cain, Gabriel, or the Devil, or an unidentified lost soul or spirit either male or female. The hunters are generally the souls of the dead or ghostly dogs, sometimes fairies, valkyries, or elves.

and Mor in acosf suggested that she might join them.

Mor’s brows bunched. “So you really are learning Valkyrie techniques.” Nesta nodded. They’d been so busy during their dancing lessons that the details of training hadn’t come up. Mor grinned. “You mind if I start joining you once this business with Vallahan is over? I never got to train with the Valkyries before the first War, and after it, they were all gone.”

So Mor as the leader of the Wild Hunt?

[untilthenextencore]

"Nights To Remember Ch. 5: You Belong To Me~..."

~

~

Jimmy & Dahlia made their exit from the Chuco sometime after that. The smallest thing triggered it. The funniest thing. A song by the Duprees. And a shared look after one last dance.

"See the pyramids along the Nile…

Watch the sun rise on a tropic isle…

Just remember, darling, all the while…

You belong to me…"

The look they shared was laden with understanding. A flicker of a shared shy, sheepish smile. A soft laugh at how fitting the song was then.

They both knew it was time. It was in their nerves. In their blood. A little flicker in their eyes.

Jimmy laced his fingers through hers, hand swallowing hers as he gazed down at her. "Shall we?"

Dahlia nodded simply. "Let's go."

Jimmy slipped out of his jacket, draping it around her shoulders before leading her back out into the now much cooler night. He nodded & smiled in greeting, tossing a few waves to some cheering fans before they were both tucked safely back into the quiet private depths of the backseat of the town car he arrived in.

"Darling, you really shouldn't have run off like that. You really did give me quite a fright. Though I'm glad you left word for me with Peter." He tutted, patting her hand.

"Of course, baby." She reached up to cup his face tenderly & thumbed the swell of his cheek. "Like you already said I didn't want to worry you. I got bored back there but saw you were still having fun. I knew Peter would get the word to you in where I had gone. If you didn't already know or guess. I just got homesick I guess. Missed things. Missed the place. The fun. You know. The old days I guess."

The old days.

Memories danced in Jimmy's mind. Of more dances here. More dances at the Chuco. Inside under the tinted light. Outside on the patio. Under the streetlight. Under the stars. Under the moon.

From the first time she took him there in his Yardbirds days to then. Through all lengths of his hair. Through all lengths of his beard. Both before & after his beard. Pinstriped trousers, jeans, velvet bellbottoms. Silk blouses, lace trim, simple cotton. No matter what he wore he was always welcome. She was always welcome. They were always welcome.

It wasn't hard to see why she loved it.

Why she missed it.

Why she escaped.

The other party was the complete opposite.

Though she stuck out in both like a sore thumb - albeit a stunningly beautiful one - it was clear, she fit this one like a glove.

"I'm sorry if I worried you at all, Jimmy. I thought maybe if I went along with Robert when he offered you'd have less to worry about."

Jimmy stifled a laugh. Stifled a grin. Barely. After all these years. Even after that night. She still had no idea. He was glad in a way. It meant Robert hadn't tried anything. It also meant that certainly Magnet hadn't either. It meant she was still safe. Still his. Still secure.

"Forgive me?"

And thus, so was he.

Cupping her face in his large hands, Jimmy cooed in a dragon's curl of smoke from the cigarette he had just finished. "There's nothing to forgive, my dear. Nothing. As long as you're safe."

Dahlia beamed at him, placing her hands over his cupping her cheeks, starry-eyed as ever. "I had a wonderful time tonight, darling. Hope you did too. Despite the slight fright I gave you."

His smile grew before his lips pressed to her forehead once more. "My dearest. My sweetest. My loveliest. My only. My girl. My lady. My Dahlia."

His heart swelled in his chest at what he saw flickering in her gaze. The light. The devotion. The purity. Purity of gaze. Of heart. Of love. Of feeling. Of emotion. Pure, raw emotion.

All of this led him to make one simple promise. "The night's not over yet, my girl. My lady. It is but still young for us."

"I bless the day I found you…

I wanna stay around you…

Now and forever, let it be me…"

Jimmy's smile brightened at the sound of the Everlys crooning over the radio. "Remember this song, my darling?"

"Don't take this heaven from one…

If you must cling to someone…

Now and forever, let it be me…"

Dahlia's smile quirked in the same way. Instantly, she read his mind. "Palomino, 1969."

They shared a private giggle. A favorite date of theirs. A favorite memory of theirs. Jimmy taking Dahlia to see the Everly Brothers at the Palomino in 1969. Holding hands. Holding her close. Sneaking squeezes of her hand. Sneaking little clinches. Sneaking kisses. As they did before.

"Each time we meet, love…

I find complete love…

Without your sweet love…

What would life be?..."

As they did then.

Jimmy leant in & nuzzled Dahlia. Nuzzled his wife. She nuzzled back. A low growl sounded in his throat. A purr in hers. A chuckle followed from him. A giggle from her.

The partition rose between them & the front seat. Jimmy's arms came around Dahlia's back, hands caressing the skin left bare by her low backed dress. Dahlia shivered & purred again, reclining back as Jimmy leant her back into the seat. Her arms circled his shoulders as their nuzzling intensified & once again their lips met.

She shivered as she felt his silver jeweled pendant cool against her hot skin.

"Gee whiz, look at his eyes…

Gee whiz, how they hypnotize…

He's got everything a girl could want…

Man, oh, man, what a prize…

Oh, oh…"

As the song played Dahlia gazed up at him in the flickering, intermittent light. The dragon's green fire seared her to the core. A private smile was shared. A tandem flicker. The air crackling between the two as it so often did. And suddenly two pairs of curved lips crashed into each other.

"Heaven up above knows how much…

I love that fella's soul…

Angels sing of a love like this…

I hope our love will grow and grow…"

Jimmy's lips burned a trail of heated kisses down her throat as his hand blazed a trail up her skirt. Her legs fell open instantly. As if on command. Under his spell as ever. Open sesame.

"'Cause, gee whiz, I love that guy…

Gee whiz, my, my, oh my…

There are things we could do…

I could say I love you…

But all I can say is…

Gee whiz…"

His lips trailed back up to claim & conquer hers yet again. Dominating her again. Mauling her again. Dahlia nipped his lower lip softly, earning a throaty growl. The growl of course came with more hungry, devouring kisses.

A sudden gasp left Dahlia's lips, thighs tightening around his hand slightly as Jimmy's fingers shifted her panties aside & his middle finger pressed inside.

"Dahlia… My lady…" He panted.

Dahlia let her legs fall open just that bit wider. Jimmy's finger pressed deeper, curving towards those familiar places he knew so well would elicit those deliriously sweet sounds.

"Ah!..."

And little bucks & lifts & rocks of her hips as she was so doing then. Each little buck allowed her skirt to slip higher and higher up her thigh. The slipping slip dress thusly only revealed more and more of her shifted panties & his working fingers.

The sight of the flickering light, intermittent from passing cars & streetlights, flashing on her exposed core stirred him to no end. The sight of her lips parted. Him parting her lips. His fingers parting them & pumping. Curving. Pressing deep. Making her mewl. It stirred him… To action.

"Oh, my angel…

Come back to me…

And I will love you…

Till eternity…

Oh, my angel…

This fire in my heart…

Consumes my happiness…

Since we are apart…"

Jimmy let Dahlia slip from his arms momentarily, only to bring both hands to his belt & undo it.

"Dahlia… Forgive me… I need..."

Dahlia merely allowed herself to sink down onto the sear & giggled. "There's nothing to forgive… As you said, my love…"

Jimmy hurriedly undid & unzipped his trousers, freeing himself & allowing his length to fall free. Dahlia giggled again & softly stroked his length in greeting. Jimmy jolted, grunting, groaning deeply. He stilled himself, allowing her a few more smooth strokes before acting again.

Taking her hand & once more pressing a kiss to the back before draping her arms around his shoulders. Coming close, he gave her panties a tug down her thighs before embracing her once more. And with that, Jimmy rose over her, drawing his hips back & piercing her in one go.

"Ah!" Cane the tandem response.

"You're mine…

And we belong together…

Yes, we belong together…

For eternity…"

The music was the perfect soundtrack as they lay wrapped in each other's arms. Another giggle was shared between the two before Jimmy pressed deeply once more. Another thrust. Another gasp.

"You're mine…

Your lips belong to me…

Yes, they belong to only me…

For eternity…"

Jimmy rolled his hips into hers slowly. Smoothly. Deeply. He drew out moan after moan. Sigh after sigh. Stirring her from deep within.

Dahlia's back arched, allowing Jimmy to slide the spaghetti straps down her shoulders. There he was able to bunch the silken dress at her waist. There he was able to trail kisses down her neck as her head craned back.

His lips trailed a heated path down to her breasts, circling her nipples & sucking them into peaks as his tongue batted & teased them. The sight of her panties, filmy & now sodden, ringing around her ankle led him to remove them, pocketing them secretly. Then, Jimmy's smile widened as Dahlia's legs wrapped around his waist. Her heels grazed the upholstery on the door behind him, her ankles locked behind his back as he drove consistently into her as they were driven around.

"You're my, my baby…

And you'll always be…

I swear by everything I own…

You'll always, always be mine…"

Dahlia watched as his pendants glinted in the light. Dangling & spinning. Hypnotizing her. Each thrust pierced her to her very core. Stealing her breath away. Her hands slipped under his jacket, sliding along the smooth expanse of skin along his back. Her fingers curled. Nails scoring into his shoulders.

His hips stuttered & faltered only momentarily before snapping harder & ever so slightly faster into her.

"You're mine…" The song crooned.

"Jimmy..." Dahlia mewled, arching her back slightly. The way her eyes both glittered & hazed over caught his eye. He recognized that. Recognized the way her nails dragged from his shoulders down his back. He hissed & shuddered & snapped his hips yet again, thrusting deeper still.

Her legs tightened around him. Walls tightened around him. Arms tightened around him. "Ahhh… Jimmy… Jimmy…"

"Are you close, darling?" He asked with a kiss, even though he already knew.

As he expected, he saw her nod slowly, still with that hazed starry-eyed gaze.

Jimmy smiled, sliding one hand down to brace her hip. His thumb swirled gently on her clit as he began to hone his thrusts in a very pointed fashion. Dahlia gasped softly. The gasp was muffled against his lips as he claimed hers in yet another passionate kiss.

"Mmmm… Me too…" He admitted, with a cheeky grin, muffling his subsequent chuckles into her lips just as she had muffled her gasps.

Now their hips rocked in unison. Lifting & rolling into a sweet, smooth grinding meeting. The two of them colliding over & over.

"Jimmy…" Dahlia mewled.

"Mmm-hmm…" He purred, wrapping one arm around her back, the other hand bracing her thigh, keeping it close to him.

"Jimmy… Jimmy…" She nipped his lower lip, causing him to growl. The sound vibrated through her body, making her shiver & clench around him.

She felt him drive into her clenching tightness in a few short quick thrusts, aiming for her spot just so & jolted. Another gasp fell from her lips as her back arched. She clutched into him & with the last of his thrusts as he grunted & groaned, he spilled & she shattered.

Galaxies collided as their bodies had, shattering & spreading stardust across her vision, the stars he had seen in her eyes sealed with a bated breath sigh of his name & kiss.

"Jimmy..."

The same stars she saw alight in his now as his lids fluttered open. Emerald depths twinkling in greeting as their gazes met.

"My lady…"

"Jimmy…"

Her fingers drew their last trails down his back. Another hiss fell from his lips as he stirred deep within her, filling her as he braced her body to his. Large right hand still bracing her thigh to his hip. His left arm still wrapped around her, keeping her stomach flush against his.

"I love you…"

He swore as his lips retook & staked their claim on hers at the same time. Deep, passionate, grateful, sated, yet all the more hungry kisses greeted her on the way down as they both recovered.

"I love you…"

She sighed her pledge in return.

Another purr sounded as despite the eternity their hurried climb & easy float down from their peak seemed to take, they both registered the last words of the song then on the radio. Fitting as ever. As always.

"And we belong together…

Yes, we belong together…

For eternity…"

~

Hope y'all enjoy~!

As ever, this is forever under construction~!

[marzipanandminutiae]

Do you have any thoughts on how the movie "Corsage" looks (costume-wise, at least)?

The costumes look decent? I'm seeing some diversions from Strict Accuracy- a marabou bodice bertha here, an incongruous lace mask(?) at a dinner party there. Also a corset over bare skin at one point, but that and the tightlacing scene could just be intended as examples of Sissi's Weird Relationship With Her Body, not an imagined 19th century norm (she DEFINITELY did tightlace, and had what we'd now call an eating disorder- an indisputable exception to the general "most women didn't do extreme corseting" rule).

There are some events I'm not sure actually happened; the scene of her cutting her hair comes to mind. I know she was obsessive about her hair, panicking if even the normal amount came out while it was being styled- her hairdresser secretly caught the shed hairs with a strip of adhesive tape to avoid distressing her. But I'm not a scholar of her life, and she did once complain of being "a slave to [her] hair." She might well have wanted to be rid of it, at some point after she stopped permitting official portraits and photographs of herself.

I do like the choice to cast an older, less conventionally model-pretty actress to play the empress. A lot of media focuses on her as she wished to be seen and remembered: the young, innocent-looking fairytale princess. But she lived into her 60s, and the later parts of her life happened whether she wanted us to acknowledge them of not. And they're equally interesting.

Maybe I'll give it a watch if it streams in the US!

[chic-a-gigot]

Le Petit écho de la mode, no. 1, vol. 16, 7 janvier 1894, Paris. 17. Domino en satin miroir clair de lune orné de dentelle. 18. Domino de satin noir. Ville de Paris / Bibliothèque Forney

17. Domino en satin miroir clair de lune orné de dentelle, forme princesse derrière et droit devant, frôlant terre. Plis Watteau en dentelle dans le dos. Haut volant de dentelle dans le bas avec coquillé de satin. Sur les épaules berthe de dentelle prenant des épaules, arrondie devant, d’où part une dentelle qui badine jusqu'au bas du domino. Un petit capuchon bonnet en satin tout garni de dentelle; nœud sur la tète; autour du cou ruche de satin et brides de dentelle sous le menton.

17. Domino costume in moonlight mirror satin decorated with lace, princess shape behind and straight in front, brushing the ground. Lace Watteau pleats in the back. Top lace ruffle at the bottom with satin shell. Lace bertha shoulders, rounded in front, from which it continues to the bottom of the dress. A small bonnet cap in satin trimmed with lace; bow on the head; satin ruffle around the neck and lace straps under the chin.

Matériaux: 12 mètres satin, 14 mètres dentelle.

—

18. Domino de satin noir. — Jupe unie à traîne, manteau droit arrivant presque aux genoux. Manches unies en velours frappé noir mélangé d’or, bracelet de plumes noires, pèlerine de satin arrivant à la taille avec empiècement rond en velours frappé, bord de plumes noires; tour de cou très fourui de plumes. Capuchon pointu en velours frappé, tour de plumes devant.

18. Domino costume in black satin. — Plain skirt with train, straight coat reaching almost to the knees. Plain sleeves in black crushed velvet mixed with gold, black feather strap, satin pelerine reaching the waist with round yoke in crushed velvet, black feather edge; heavily feathered choker. Pointed hood in crushed velvet, round feathers in front.

Matériaux: 14 mètres satin noir, 3 mètres tissu frappé.

[mariacallous]

One morning, my wife suggested I look into making a different kind of bread. Not necessarily to replace my weekly challah habit, but just to try something new. I asked what she has in mind and she mentioned monkey bread. I’d never heard of it. 

So, I Googled and turns out that monkey bread is actually a yeasted cake. Its origins are rooted in the immigrant Hungarian Jewish community that came to the United States. I immediately thought of my father’s grandparents, Jews who immigrated from the former Austro-Hungarian empire. I texted my father and sure enough he remembered his grandmother, Bertha Stern, making him what she called Hungarian coffee cake, but what many call aranygaluska.

Jewish Food Historian, Gil Marks, included aranygaluska in his “Encyclopedia of Jewish Food,” noting the arrival of the “golden dumpling” in the 1880s. Hungarian Jewish immigrants started selling it in their bakeries sometime in the mid-20th century, and it transcended Jewish foods when it was included in a 1972 edition of Betty Crocker, referred to as “Hungarian Coffee Cake,” as my great-grandmother called it. 

Eventually it became known as “monkey bread.” There’s no definitive reason why but one of the more popular theories is that the act of pulling the bread apart mimicked how a monkey picks something apart.

Joan Nathan, the matriarch of American Ashkenazi cuisine, says she first came across the recipe in George Lang’s “The Cuisine of Hungary” (1971). She also notes that replacing the walnuts with cocoa turns the dish into the wonderfully Yiddish kuchem-buchem.

I was admittedly a bit verklempt when I realized I had stumbled upon a heritage food, especially one laced with some of my favorite ingredients: cinnamon and honey. 

This is  great for an inexperienced baker because it’s a difficult recipe to screw up. As you get your dough together, it just involves taking pieces of that dough, swooshing them around in bowls of butter and cinnamon sugar, then arranging the chunks of sweetness in layers. Fill the gaps with jam and you’re set.

[gogmstuff]

1860s dresses (from top to bottom) -

1862 Aleksandra Zatler, general’s wife, by Josef Simmler (location ?). From Merinok's Facebook pages 1440X1795.

1863 Rosa Guardiola, Baronesa de Andilla by Federico de Madrazo y Kuntz (private collection). From Wikimedia 1400X1804.

ca. 1865-1866 Afternoon dress (auctioned by Tessier-Sarou). From tumblr.com/fashionsfromthepast 1280X1920.

ca. 1867 Walking and visiting suit by Worth & Bobergh (Albany Institute of History and Art - Albany, New York, USA). From tumblr.com/history-of-fashion 1660X3072.

[mydaylight]

I really wanted to make some gifsets from episode 7 today but I think I'm too tired...probably will work on something tomorrow

[everythegildedageoutfit]

Every Outfit in The Gilded Age - Outfit 22 - Bertha Russell's outfit 4 - Season 1, Episode 1 & Season 1, Episode 6

[misscromwellsmonocle]

Portrait photography of Bertha Benz, inventor and automotive pioneer (1871)

[clove-pinks]

An 1836 fashion plate in La Mode, hand-coloured engraving after a drawing by Pierre Numa Bassaget (Rijksmuseum). An interesting mix of male and female clothing, accessories, and hairstyles, with two women and a man posed on what makes me think of a courting bench —also known as a tête-à-tête, chaperone chair, and other names.

Both furniture pictures are from Journal of Antiques & Collectibles, which has an article about courting furniture.

It's only 1836, but you can see the 1840s approaching in the deflated sleeves, and the couple making eyecontact have hairstyles that look early 1840s. Also very 1840s is the low neckline off the shoulders with a lace bertha—"a deep falling border made up of one or more lace frills, ribbon and fancy decoration, and this usually covered the sleeves," Handbook of English Costume in the 19th Century.

Phillis Cunnington and C. Willett Cunnington specifically identify 1836 as the year "semi-low decolletage became fashionable and the fit became closer." The gentleman wears a frilled shirt with white stock and holds an eyeglass suspended around his neck.