#scalloped hem

[luxebeat]

2022’s Trendiest Clothes That Shoppers Wore Daily

Trends come and go. Some outlast others, and some never disappear and become known as either timeless or classic. Regardless of whether or not you purposely follow trends, if you were to give your wardrobe closet scrutiny, you may be surprised to find that much of what you wore over the past year can be considered trendy. Let’s look at some of the most fashionable clothes people wore daily in…

[crrows]

Yoyogi Park, 2004

[lychee-cute]

at the beach in Baby the Stars Shine Bright

[refundtheticket]

peony for @tarradash! i had so much fun with this, thank you!

flower photography on the skirt by Rikonavt via unsplash

my commissions are open!

[ironfloret]

cropped tank top i've been plugging away at over the last week or so! i'm not tooootally satisfied with how it turned out but only for reasons that nobody else would probably notice lol. it's just nice to have a larger garment made that i can wear in the current season!

[discountalien-pancake]

I don’t believe in fate, and I don’t believe that objects have souls, but sometimes the universe is serendipitous.

When I bought this collar, all I knew was that it was a) definitely Edwardian, and b) it was mine, because somehow it had not yet been claimed even though it had been over an hour since it was listed and this seller’s listings get claimed within seconds of posting. It arrived. It was Edwardian. It was so fucking beautiful. The lace is soft and airy and seemingly delicate, but the threads are in excellent condition.

And like I mentioned before, I am not shy about using antique textiles. I did know that I didn’t want to cut into the lace, because it had finished edges and was not an infinite repeat in the way that lace edgings or insertions often are—the flat yoke and the flounce were both discrete pieces. So I spent several hours painstakingly taking out the original seam holding the two together. This was thankfully a simple running stitch and I was able to remove it without damaging the lace at all. The flounce was long:

It is folded in half in the image above. Much too long for me to sew into any kind of blouse without cutting it. So I toyed with the idea of making it into a frilly Edwardian petticoat.

Guys.

Guys. It is exactly the right length. That is some serious serendipity at work.

[thedopeartwork]

👕✨ Show off your love for Bitcoin with our Bitcoin Chest Tee! Made with an ultra soft cotton spandex blend for ultimate comfort. 🪙💪 #GraphicTee #CurvedHem

[leafnincosplay]

How to sew a scalloped hem

Scalloped hems are so pretty, yet sewing them can result in unsightly bunches in the scallops and joining corners. But, no more! Here's a few tricks and tips to get the perfect scalloped hem every time. #cosplay #tutorial

Scalloped hems are pretty. They look like a row of petals or scallops next to each other and can be found in all sorts of locations. Bustline hems, bottom of a skirt, crisscrossed accents. But when you first make a scalloped hem, you might have a problem. You might get bunches in those scallops or in the angle. There are a few tricks you can use to avoid bunches and get the nicest scalloped hem…

[frostedmagnolias]

Teal Beaded Dress

1920-1929

“Teal beaded tunic dress with scalloped hem and beaded belt.”

unknown designer

HCC Fashion Archive

[taylorswiftstyle]

Attending a wedding | New York City, NY | September 8, 2024

Larkspur & Hawk ‘Posy Earrings’ - no longer available EF Collection ‘Diamond Mini Huggie & Prong Set Chain Stud Earring’ - $850.00 Cartier ‘Agrafe Herringbone Twisted Necklace’ - $27,250.00 Jacquie Aiche 'Spaced Out High Neck Body Chain' - $11,550.00 Wove Made x Michelle Wie West 'Custom Diamond Tennis Bracelet’ - $5,680.00 (starting) Lizzie Mandler ‘3 Row Cleo Bracelet’ - $18,300.00 Zimmermann ‘Halliday Dress’ - $795.00 Vivienne Westwood 'Rosie Circle Frame Denim-Jacquard Bag’ - $544.00 Christian Louboutin ‘Condora ’85 Leather Heeled Sandals’ - $845.00

It’s not often we see Taylor looking this fancy outside Electric Lady - the NY recording studio where she’s recorded many of her albums (including all TV’s, Lover, folklore, Midnights, and TTPD). On this occasion, Taylor wasn’t heading in for a session - but for a wedding! With Travis as +1, the two were guests to the nuptials of model Karen Elson and Electric Lady Studios owner Lee Foster. To Vogue, Karen noted the importance of having one of their intimate ceremonies (the other was in Nashville) at Electric Lady. "[Lee has] put his heart and soul into [it] … it’s really his home,” she said. 

Taylor has a go-to wedding guest formula: a fit/flare midi dress, tons of jewelry, and minimalist heels. The dress is lovely and I’m a fan of the scallop detail at the top and hem + the pretty floral print. I can’t even get too mad at the wrinkles - it’s linen, after all. Overall, it’s a great pick for a breezy, late summer garden party. And of course I’m a fan of those minimal ankle strap heels (natch). 

The addition of the “something blue” bag was genius. It ties into the blue of her floral print + the coordinating Vivienne Westwood polo Travis was wearing. While Taylor couldn’t have known, it also played nicely with the bride’s custom Valentino gown which featured a blue floral appliqué. The biggest question mark? If wearing such a light coloured dress to a wedding is appropriate. There are unconfirmed remarks that the bride requested female guests wear cream. As someone who loves to aggressively plan and prefers to err on the side of caution, I elect to stay away from a dress this light - even with a floral print - when dressing for a wedding. Though Taylor’s dress is actually much warmer toned in retail photos. It falls closer to a pale orange. Ultimately, if this was indeed bride’s orders - I think she aced the assignment. 

I love that Taylor’s jewelry styling tapped into one of her key style pillars: repetition. All of these are familiar pieces we’ve seen styled before. The oldest are her earrings which she first showed off in 2021. Next is her beloved vintage Cartier necklace which she acquired last summer. And, most recently, both her EF Collection earrings and Lizzie Mandler bracelet which she wore to the Chiefs vs Ravens opening season game this week. 

In looking at her jewelry, my eye also happened to spot a body chain she paired with her Cartier necklace. This immediately brought me back to Jack Antonoff’s wedding last summer when she also wore this piece. Maybe it’s her wedding signature move. 

Illustration by Amelia Noyes

[beansprean]

Support me on Patreon or send a tip on Kofi!

A commission from andieandiiandee(@TikTok) based on chapter 14 of “Hounds of Love” by @andiforyou!! ❤️

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1. Waist up of human Nandor dressed in a chainmail shirt with chest plating, a silver sword dangling from his left ear, a brown leather belt, and a brown leather baldric over his shoulder attached to a real sword at his hip. His hair is half up, twin braids from his temples forming a bun at the crown of his head and held in place by a leather clasp threaded with a stick. He is leaning against a doorframe, arms crossed, and staring offscreen with hooded eyes and a small smile, a pink heart floating by his face. 2. What Nandor is looking at. Waist up of Jeremy and Guillermo from the back as they chat idly, the vague idea of a coat rack in front of them. Jeremy is wearing long white robes. Guillermo, half turned toward Jeremy with a smile as they chat, is making motions to shrug off his puffy winter coat. 3. Extreme closeup of Nandor's eyes as they fly open in shock, cheeks flushing red. 4. Close up of Guillermo in profile, from the bridge of his nose to just below his chest, as he shrugs his coat off to reveal his bare shoulder and arm in a plain black tank top, a golden chain around his neck disappearing into the shirt. His right hand, wearing a leather glove, pulls out a piece of black fabric with a dotted white design. 5. Hips up of Guillermo from Nandor's POV on a glowing pink background, surrounded by golden sparkles, as he drops the coat completely and throws a poncho over his shoulders to complete his outfit. He is paused in motion, eyes downcast, pink mouth pursed, arms raised chest-high as the poncho flutters into place around his shoulders. It is black and translucent, decorated with a silver beadwork pattern of spiderwebs. The end of the poncho hits right at his waist line, edges scalloped like bat wings with silver pearls adorning each peak. Four short makeshift spider legs are sewn to the bottom of his tank top, two on each side. In the background are pink-tinted close ups in Nandorvision: the flex of Guillermo's bicep, the stretch of his fingers beneath the glove, and the roll of his back and stomach beneath the tight tank top as his arms stretch overhead. 6. A pink-tinted Nandorvision fantasy: full body of Nandor and Guillermo in their current outfits as Nandor grabs Guillermo at the waist and dips him, knee pressing forward between his legs and head dipped to mouth at his neck. Guillermo's arms are looped around Nandor's shoulders and he is smiling blissfully, hearts floating around his head, cheeks flushed as he tilts his head to allow Nandor access to his throat. His left leg hitches around Nandor's hip as Nandor's right hand creeps beneath the hem of his tank top. 7. Shoulders up of the real Nandor, staring slackjawed at the visions before him, cheeks flushed red and eyes wide, irises gone pink to reflect where his mind is at. 8. Small corner panel of Nandor, chest up and casting a shadow on a sparkly pink background as he comes back down to earth. He blushes, flustered, and closes his eyes with resignation, thinking to himself: "I'm going to be beating suitors away with a stick..." /end ID

[jojo-schmo]

Zaps myself with a bunch of different Kirby species lasers!!

How many ways can a four pointed star, scalloped hems, and bow ties be worn? :D

[lychee-cute]

Scallop Hem JSK - Baby the Stars Shine Bright

[pricegouge]

Thinking about them cumming in readers underwear and having her wear it around

I feel like Price would love the claiming aspect of it but I think Ghost or Gaz would just be annoyed the underwear is in the way of easy access

I feel like Johnny would enjoy huffing and licking them😌

-🫀

Never enough that they're gross, is it? They just gotta make doll a mess, too.

Cw: dubcon. Squirting. Gaz calls it piss so take that as you will. No ageplay here but the panties are cutesy and reader doesn't like it. Cum play/implied eating. Extremely light spit kink. Degradation. Praise, but not for reader. Cuckolding? Free use. Please lmk if I forgot anything this is way too long and way too nasty.

It's rare that Kyle initiates so you should've known he was up to something when he pulled you in close for a kiss. He's so good at it though that you forgot to be suspicious, just reveled in his soft lips and warm hands until he got your bottoms off, slid a finger under the scalloped edging of your panties. "These are cute," he said with a sly grin and you might've rolled your eyes, if you didn't know what it would earn you.

Cute was one word for them, you supposed. Borderline childish would be another. They're not egregious. Pale blue cotton briefs with white clouds dotting them. The trim is minimal, doesn't even scratch at your skin, thankfully, but it's the only thing about them that could possibly be construed as a concession to maturity. Still, you thank him for the compliment instead of telling him how they make you feel completely sexless. You move to take them off for him but his hand catches your wrist, uses his grip to turn you over onto all fours.

"Let's leave 'em on, luv," he hums and you bite back a sigh. At least in this position you don't really have to see them, you think, but he makes it hard to ignore their presence when he starts rubbing his leaky cock into the fabric of your gusset. "Fuck, that's hot," he groans, but doesn't take his time to enjoy it, slotting his cock under the hem so he can rub himself between your cheeks instead. 

It's the noises he makes that get you wet more than anything, the soft huffs when his sensitive head catches on the edging and the tiny, shaky moans he lets loose every time you feel the warmth of his precum bloom across your skin. He can see it, no doubt - the pale fabric clinging to his cock as it begins to soak. He knows instinctively when you start to leak, long fingers wrapping around your hip to rub your pussy through the thin layer. The cotton feels different when it's coated with your juices - almost softer when he works it against your clit. He teases you about it, about how he doesn't even need to touch your pussy properly to get you soaked. You can't really argue with him so you don't, shame licking up your spine when he slots his cock into you unexpectedly - bottoming out in one slow thrust as he keeps working your clit with that rough scrape of fabric and you can't help it, your release soaking you both as it drips down your legs. 

"Shit," Gaz growls, his cock pushed out of your cunt by how hard you try to squeeze him. He slots himself between your cheeks again, free hand laying flat over your ass to give himself something to thrust between. When he cums, he pulls back enough that you can feel it drip onto the rim of your hole, hot and slick where he works his tip against it. It catches once and you squirm away, prompting Kyle to crack you on the ass. It stings, the wet material of your panties doing nothing to help. You yelp, but remain obediently still for him as he winds himself down until he sighs, borderline affectionate.

You roll over when he climbs off you, eager to clean yourself up after the mess he's made but Kyle grabs your hands yet again and tuts at you. "Told you they're cute. Leave 'em on."

He takes some pity when you wrinkle your nose, kneeling before you to soak up most of the mess from your legs and tummy with the soiled blanket. You thank him prettily, hoping if you appease him he'll leave sooner and you can change out of your panties, but Gaz doesn't even seem to listen, pulling a big sharpie out of his pocket instead of acknowledging you. 

"What're you -?"

The felt tip is surprisingly cool when it meets your skin. Gaz's handwriting is neat, making it easy for you to read as he scrawls the word 'cumdump' across your belly. You gape down at him, and the bastard has the audacity to wink as he etches a singular tally mark into your thigh. 

"Gaz!" you shriek, testing your limits, but he just laughs, throwing your pants at you.

"You keep those on. And you keep this," he wags the marker at you, "in your pocket, yeah? Make sure everyone adds to your little collection." 

You're shaking your head before you can even think it through and Gaz pinches the fat on the back of your thigh aggressively. 

"You will, because I'm going to be checking throughout the day to make sure, and if you're not wearing them, or if they're not getting messier, I'm gonna make you lick them clean," he promises. "Dried, tacky cum, piss stains and all."

"That's not fair," you gripe, already pulling your pants on. "I can't control whether or not the others wanna fuck me."

"Well then I guess you better be sweet on 'em, hm?"

***

The panties are absurdly uncomfortable. With your pants on, the thick spend doesn't dry out as easily as you'd hoped it would and worse, the possibility that anyone could potentially smell your wet cunt makes your face heat - makes you drip like a faucet, honestly, but in the end, it's not the smell that does you in. 

You hadn't considered the jeans Gaz had thrown at you for longer than it took to ascertain you (blessedly) wouldn't be wearing a skirt today. When you'd pulled them on, you'd felt nothing but relief for how well-covered you were, not wanting to wander the warehouse in something they could easily push aside because they often did, and if you weren't allowed to clean yourself up after, it would've been a complete nightmare. But in your short-lived elation, you'd failed to notice how pale the wash of the jeans was, how easily wet marks would show.

Simon notices before you do, stalking silently behind you as you move about the small kitchen making sandwiches. No warning, he grabs you by the seat of your pants, big hand worming its way between your thighs to rub thick fingers along the seam of your crotch. His voice is a low pur when he rumbles in your ear, "Need help with that, pet?"

It should shock you - would've even just a few months ago. You've grown used to them now, no longer surprised when they accost you like this. It's one of the few reasons you're allowed to handle butter knives now - because you don't spin around, brandishing it at him wildly.

"No thanks, almost done here," you tell him, calmly assembling the last sandwich. John's, to be eaten later when he was off the phone. 

Simon just chuckles, a little mean. "Not what I meant."

This time, when he pushes his fingers against your seam, you can feel how wet it is against your own skin. You squawk, your first instinct to apologize for some reason. Simon shushes your stuttering with a kiss, his tongue hot and wet even through the material of his mask. 

Simon doesn't usually like a show. Normally, he'll sequester you in a back room, or seek you out in your own when the others have all gone to bed. He changes his tune when his hands get a little too busy, tug your hem up just enough that he catches a glimpse of the ink that stains your skin. He frowns, backing up enough he can read Gaz's mark properly while you sit there and squirm. 

You don't make it to a back room.

"Fuckin' slag," Simon hisses, shoving your jeans down your hips. His fingers find the band of your briefs, pull as if he intends to tear them.

"Wait!" you plead, fingers wrapping around his wrist as if you have any chance of stopping him. It does give him pause, though, more curious as to what could possibly be so important it made you forget your place. "Gaz said I had to leave those on."

The band snaps against your skin when Simon releases it, but he cocks his head at you, undecided. "And why the fuck do I care what Gaz wants?"

"Please, he said he'd make me lick them clean if I took them off."

Expression still thoughtful, Simon pulls at the band again until he can inspect the gusset, eyes glinting when he looks back up at you. "Not seeing a downside for me."

Shit. "I'll let you add to my tally." 'Let' is a strong word and you both know it, though Simon likely doesn't know Gaz expected you to have it added anyway.

"Not much of a cumdump," Simon points out, thumb brushing the single mark on your thigh. 

You bat your eyes at him, overselling but desperate to appeal to his good side. You really don't want to clean these off. "Help me out then?" 

He fucks your thighs. Stood up in the kitchen and squeezing him as best you can, you end up having to hold onto his burly biceps for dear life as he rocks you against his heavy cock, spilling into your panties without so much as a pinch to your clit. 

***

You're back in your room when Gaz finds you. He pulls your pants off and inspects your underwear much like Simon had, grinning up at you when he says he's just checking. He spits in them before he lets you pull them back into place.

***

"Johnny, don't, Gaz said to keep them on." The worst thing about Soap was how little he listened. The best thing was that you were generally allowed to slap his hands away from you, so long as John or Simon didn't see. Johnny himself never seemed to mind too much, always bouncing back. Overeager.

"But she's so wet, bonnie. Can smell her. Need a taste."

You were, was the worst of it. Leaking like a sieve ever since Simon had left you wanting. It was why you'd retired to your gross little room, too embarrassed to be seen with such an obvious, growing wet spot on your crotch. Suddenly, it's hard to remember why letting Johnny lick you clean is a bad idea. "Well, maybe if you slide them to the side?"

You barely have time to register his movements, he's on you so fast. 

The first pass of his tongue is so slick you almost don't feel it beyond the intense heat. Johnny moans, smacks his lips like a child enjoying a cookie, and then dives back in so enthusiastically you can't help but grip his hair, holding him in place as he immediately starts in on the messiest technique he can manage, pulling your slick from you with a cupped tongue just so he can rub his raw stubble against your sticky skin. He moans when you do, breath humid and hot against your skin. You hold your panties off to the side for him, the wetness there dragging against the crease of your hip. It's all so messy, but you can't help rocking your hips up to meet Johnny's tongue, groaning in frustration when he pulls away and -

"Nobody ever teach you how a cumdump works, boy?"

John. He's holding Soap up by the back of his shirt, as if the massive man was nothing more than a spitting kitten, his eyes heavy on the mess between your legs. 

"Sir -."

"Supposed to add to it, Soap, not clean it up." A heavy palm guides Johnny to the floor, patting him affectionately when he settles on his knees, eyes darting nervously between you and the captain. "All that spit, just watering down Gaz's collection."

"Wasnae -."

"Quiet. You watch now, yeah? Show you how to treat a fucking whore."

You know better than to gripe about his words, so you don't. And you know better than to fight him when he snaps your panties back into place, so you let him. Johnny, however, doesn't know better than to whine when John's fingers find your clit, start rubbing the soaked fabric against your neglected nub much like Gaz had earlier. You bite your tongue, but Johnny doesn't - a sharp huff drawing John's attention away for just a moment.

"Don't wanna hear it, Soap."

"Sir, can ah -?"

"No."

This time Johnny's whine coincides with John's thumb dropping lower, dipping the fabric of your panties into your pussy experimentally. Your breath stutters, loud enough that John's eyes snap to your face. Cold, hard. Unsympathetic. He speaks to Johnny but he never looks away from you.

"Behave and I'll let you lick them clean after."

You perk up, the possibility of your punishment being taken from you by the captain - who Gaz could not reproach - making you just as eager to please as Soap himself was. Though you were a little better about hiding it than the man who thanked John repeatedly from his place on the floor.

"Thank ye, cap. Thank ye -."

"That's enough."

"Aye, sir."

Finally, John's focus returns to his actions, watching almost reverently as you soak the material even more. Quietly, as if he doesn't want Soap to hear, he rumbles at you about getting them good and wet and you nod, eager to let Johnny take your punishment.

And then he slaps your mound lightly, breaking the nearly intimate spell between you. "But we have to show the boy how to treat a slut like you, don't we? Which means you're gonna cum on my cock, or not at all."

You groan in frustration, laying back limply as John clutches the gusset of your panties and pulls them aside (hypocrite). He doesn't bother working you open, knows exactly what state you've been left in by the slick that squelches between his fingers where he fists your briefs. Still, John's big, and the stretch leaves you breathless enough you feel punched out, hollow when he gives you no time to adjust before drawing out again, slamming back into you even more brutally.

True to his word, John does not work to bring you pleasure. The way he fucks you is efficient at best, downright punishing at worst. Regardless, worked up as you are, you find your release when his knuckles graze your clit accidentally, and John laughs at you cruelly as you fall apart beneath him. 

"Knew you were a fucking slag," he grunts, pulling out and fisting his cock until he paints your pussy, rocking against it a few times just to make you both twitch in overstimulation. 

It takes you both a moment to realize the slick sounds don't stop when he does, and a quick glance at Johnny tells you why when you find him fucking his own fist, face twisted in pleasure as he eyes your soaked pussy.

"You waste that on the floor and I'll make you lick that up too," John growls, and suddenly you're being manhandled to the ground, spread open in front of Soap while John holds your legs open.

The chords of Soap's neck jump when he cums, pumping himself directly onto the front of your panties. 

"Good boy, Soap. Just like that," John rumbles. Your gut twists, unexpectedly jealous. "See how much better it is when you don't worry about her pleasure?"

"Aye, sir," Johnny pants, looking dazed enough to agree with anything. 

"That's right, cause she's just our little cumdump, isn't she?" He makes you jump when he slaps you pussy for emphasis before hooking his fingers under the band of your panties, sliding them down.

"Ready for your reward?"

[recycledmoviecostumes]

This vintage wool suit has had quite the journey. Palace Costume acquired the item from former president Lydon B. Johnson’s estate and had supposedly been owned by one of his mistresses, but which mistress is unknown, and no photo documentation of the suit being worn has been found at this point.

The suit was acquired from a Palace Costume for Madonna to wear in the 1996 film adaptation of Andrew Lloyd Webber’s musical Evita, where she played the role of Eva Perón.

The suit was used the following year when it was worn by Fran Drescher as Fran Fine in the fourth season episode of The Nanny entitled The Facts of Lice.

The gown went up for Auction at Julien’s in 2014, where it sold for $10,240. The auction’s description of the costume is as follows:

A robin’s egg skirt suit circa 1940s…The virgin wool suit comprises a tailored jacket with pearlized and jewel tone beaded sprays and a scalloped hem and a slender-fitting skirt with scalloping and beaded sprays. The jacket has Armand’s of Corpus Christi and Palace Costume labels. The skirt has a Palace Costume label. 

Costume Credit: Mor, Franfinedatabase, Fran_fine_fashion, Brendacooperstyle

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[clusterfrock]

My latest finished project, based off a couple of extant bodices and a fashion plate which all had this snazzy cross-over front feature.

I actually made the skirt a long time ago as a historybounding, everyday thing to wear. It has alternating panels of striped and solid black cotton, and has a scalloped hem. I love it and wear it often, and decided that I was going to make a matching bodice so I could wear it to costume events, too.

I draped the pattern myself, based off of a couple of extants. Each seam is boned with artificial whalebone and the seam allowances were tacked down by hand with a herringbone stitch. The peplum is lined with black cotton, but the rest is just lined with cheap plain white muslin to save on cost. The bodice closes up the center front with hooks and eyes, and then the wrap panels are folded over and closed at the side seams.

Brain gremlins about my weight are under the cut for those that don't want to read it.

I finished this outfit a while back, but I've been struggling with whether or not I wanted to post it. It's not the outfit, I think that it turned out fabulously. But I've been really unhappy about my weight, and it's been a fight to remind myself that my weight is not my worth. I keep hearing the negative things my mother would say whenever I would gain a pound or two or the "positive" things she'd say when I lost them (things like "oh, you have a chin again!" or "I can actually see your waist now.")

So I'm trying to ignore all that and remind myself how awesome this dress turned out, how hard I worked on it, and how proud I am of the construction of it.