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#antique french fabric
myetsyworld · 8 months
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Antique indigo fabric from the Port Vanves brocante in Paris. 2 large pieces that would've once been used to make work wear and the famous blue aprons.
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oldfarmhouse · 3 months
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𝐕𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐬 ~𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐨𝐢𝐫𝐞! 🙌
𝗁𝗍𝗍𝗉s://instagram.com/countrystylemag
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brocantevintage · 5 months
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Blindfolds | Chan x Reader x mystery man (Minho)
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chan x fem reader x minho.
Chan helps you fulfil your fantasy of having a "stranger" sleep with you
Word count: I think about 3k?
MDNI . Content warning below.
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————- WARNINGS: unsafe sex, threesome, oral sex, vaginal sex, anal fingering, blowjob, orgasm, slight choking, cum eating, mystery sex, blindfold—————-
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You walk down the dimly lit hallway towards one of the unused bedrooms in the holiday house you and your friends were staying at. You and your best friend, Chan decided the scenario will take place in a space that no one is using, to really maximize the mysteriousness of it the whole thing.
Butterflies are going crazy in your stomach, and you tug your satin robe tighter around your waist to try to settle them down. You feel rather sexy and feminine in the robe, the cream floral print against a gold background makes you feel like a queen.
You approach the designated door and knock.
“Come in.” Chan's voice calls from the inside. You swallow hard and push open the door.
You're immediately taken aback. The room is stunning. The decor is dark and moody, with the walls painted a dark grey blue, and the furniture looks as though it’s antique. Paintings of abstract naked women have been hung around the room.
There are various stained-glass lamps, emanating a seductive glow, and there is music playing low in the background. It sounds like French music. A woman’s voice seductively fills the room.
Then there’s the bed. Huge, King sized, so plush and high set. Chan is laying propped up against the dark timber headboard, he almost looks lost leaning amongst the generous number of over sized plush pillows. He’s wearing black tracksuit pants and a muscle tee. It looks out of place in such a sensually styled room.
“What do you think?” Chan gestures around the room.
“Th- this,” you stammer. “It’s amazing Chan.” You move towards the bed, stretching out your hand to touch the dark green quilt. It’s luxurious on your fingertips as you run your hand along the fabric and move closer to the head of the bed. The only thought going through your head is: Someone’s going to fuck you on this.
You perch on the side of the bed facing away from Chan, your feet barely reaching the floor. That's when you notice the black blindfold laid out neatly on the bedside table. Next to it is a bottle of coconut oil.
“How are you feeling? Are you okay?” Chan reaches out to touch your hand that’s resting beside you on the bed.
You inhale deeply and then slowly release the breath. How are you feeling?  It’s a mixture of feelings really. You're so very nervous. That you already know. But, you're also… excited. The idea of what’s about to happen is truly thrilling to you.
You can't believe your best friend Chan agreed to help you fulfil this fantasy. Of being blindfolded and fucked by a mystery person.
Chan smiles “We gotta get you ready!” He practically jumps off the bed and moves around to the side of the bed, taking your hand and helping you slide off the bed.
You've already discussed the details of how you're going to do this, covering safe words and safe gestures, what positions we are going to be in. These had been relayed to the mystery person who was going to be participating. The man coming to fuck you wouldn't be a stranger though. It was one of seven other men, that Chan knows extremely well. You've met them all too, and to be fair, you'd be thrilled to have any of them fuck you.
You stand in front of Chan facing away from him. There is tension in the air and your breath feels wobbly. He steps closer to you, and you can feel his breath on your neck and a pang in your chest. You'd really wish he'd kiss you. Chan doesn't know how much you actually want him. But he's never shown any signs of wanting you as more than a friend. He slowly reaches around, careful not to touch you too much, you wish he would, and pulls at your robe’s rope-tie.
It comes loose easily allowing your robe to fall open. Chan delicately pulls your robe off your shoulders letting it drop to the floor. You hadn’t put any underwear on, and now you're standing completely naked in front of Chan. And only Chan.
It feels extremely intimate and you're feeling self conscious. He hasn’t been this close to your naked body before. Goosebumps form on your skin. It isn’t cold in the room. Chan had thought of that too and had made the room a comfortable temperature. He’s so fucking considerate. You smile to myself.
You close your eyes and compose yourself. Fuck. You're really doing this.
Chan takes your hand again and grabs the blindfold in the other. He steadies you as you climb onto the bed where he resumes the position of laying down and propped up against a pillow and headboard. He directs you to sit between his legs facing away from him, and carefully he places the blindfold over your eyes and securing it at the back of your head. Your senses immediately heighten. This feels so erotic.
“Lean back on me.” He whispers as he guides you to lean back onto his fully clothed body. You can feel his hard, toned muscles flexing underneath you and his breathing is strained. Is he nervous? You can feel an erection beginning to dig into your back. Is this turning him on?
You imagine what this must look like, your exposed, naked body with Chan’s strong legs on either side of yours. You don’t know what to do with your hands so you rest them on your stomach. You don’t know where Chan’s arms and hands are, only that they aren’t touching you. You wish he’d wraps his arms around you. You wish he’d caress your body.
For a moment you try to imagine what it would be like if he did touch you. The sensation of him cupping your breasts, pinching a nipple, sliding his hands over your body. Then you remember why you're here, for a mystery fuck. A small moan escapes you. Did he hear you?
Chan nuzzles his face into your neck, resting his chin on your left shoulder. He's so close. “You already imagining a stranger inside you, hmm?” he whispers. You whimper. His voice turns you on beyond belief.
You don’t have chance to answer because there is a knock on the door. You suck in a breath. This is actually happening.
“Come in.” Chan calls out. You hear the door creak open and then close.
“Are you ready to begin?” whispers Chan in your ear.
“Mmm hmm, yes.” you reply.
“Good, because I think you are going to really enjoy this.”
He takes hold of your hands and places them on the bed either side of your body, using his hands to hold them down out of the way so you can’t go ahead and touch your anonymous lover. You had requested this. It makes you feel like you're being forcefully held in place, although you know you can change things if you want.
You feel the mattress dip slightly. Someone is climbing onto the bed near your feet. Who can it be? Is it Changbin? Or could it be Minho? Felix? Could it be Jisung?
A hand touches your ankle. You shudder, then very slowly and delicately it makes it way up to the side of your knee. Their touch is light and feathery. You swallow.
Then you feel a mouth, a moist, plush mouth just above your knee. You think he is about to take the kisses up your leg, but instead takes his kisses back down, making his way down to your ankle. It feels so sensual. Who do these lips belong to?
Chan releases your arms for just a moment so he can lift your legs over each of his legs, which are spread out wide on the bed. Then he goes back to gently pinning your hands to the mattress.
You sense the other man moving closer and a mouth reappears on your skin. This time it’s your inner right thigh. He drags his tongue from inside your leg near your knee all the way up your inner thigh, sending tingles through your body, but he stops before he gets anywhere near your pussy. He does this again, and then mirrors the action with your other leg.
His hands try to push your legs a little wider and Chan assists by moving his own legs wider again, forcing your legs to part just a little more. You're ready, wide open for whatever you're about to receive.
The touching stops, but you can feel him kneeling in front of you. Your chest is rising and falling rapidly in anticipation.
You're pleasantly startled when you feel a warm liquid landing on your breasts. The oil. Chan must have warmed it up somehow in preparation. You moan at the sensation of the oil dripping down around and between your breasts. You suck your breath between your teeth when you feel a pair of hands cupping your breasts, then squeezing and massaging the flesh in slow, but firm circles.
His hands slide easily over your oiled skin, and you squeal slightly when he squeezes your nipples. As the pinches and flicks become more aggressive you can’t help but arch your back and rock your hips at the sensation.
Chan shushes you. “We need to stay still and take it, remember what we agreed to?” That’s right, part of this was you needed to stay as still as possible, it was all part of being restrained. You compose yourself and stop moving. It’s so difficult but you're determined to play the part properly.
“Good girl.” Chan growls low. Good girl? You love those words.
More warm oil is applied to your stomach. There is so much that it coats your entire abdomen and runs down towards your core, and trickles down where your pussy lips meet. You feel bad for the bedding, it’s probably going to be a mess.
It feels so fucking sexy with your body being this slick and slippery. You feel like a goddess being worshipped and adored, yet at the same time you feel like a dirty whore who doesn’t care who fucks her.
You wait for the hands to return to your body, anticipating them all over your stomach and you moan and pant with the need to be touched now. You're desperate and on the verge of begging.
“Pl-please… please touch me.” you say.
“He wants you to call him ‘Sir’”, Chan whispers.
“Please touch me again… Sir.” you pant.
You let out a long, low moan as he pours the oil at the top of your pussy. It runs down through your lips and onto your asshole. You can’t help but try to wriggle with pleasure and frustration. Chan squeezes your hand, a reminder that you need to stay still. You don’t know where his hands will land next and the anticipation is pure agony.
The stranger lifts your legs up bending them so your knees are up near your chest. Chan removes one of his hands from yours to grip under your knee to help pin it against your chest, whilst the other man pins your right leg.
You feel the heel of a hand press firmly against your clit and begin to move in circular motions, much like they did with your breasts. It provides a grinding sensation that shoots pleasure deep inside of your abdomen.
“Fuck that feels so good… Sir.” you whimper as his hand swirls and presses on you for what feel like and eternity.
He then drags two fingers beginning at your clit all the way down to your asshole, dragging the oil and your slickness all the way down. Your cunt clenches as his fingers pass by the entrance, not stopping to explore. He presses a finger to your rim.
“Aaaah!!” you gasp at the sensation of the pressure.
He massages his finger against you, and you know you're going to open up easily for him. You are so aroused and so slick from yourself and the oil that it doesn’t take much for the tip of his finger to breech the entrance. You grip the sheets with your hands and pant shallow breaths as his finger slips in deeper, deeper, all the way in.
“You’re being so good for him.” Chan’s words of praise in your ear make you melt around the stranger’s finger and you're ready for more.
“Sir… please.. I need… can you put in another finger?”
He slowly removes his finger and you feel two fingers at your rim now. He pushes them in, going ever so slowly. It’s a stretch but he’s moving slowly enough that you're adjusting along the way, making the stretch feel achingly good. He must be experienced at this sort of thing. He knows exactly what to do.
You bring your left arm up and wrap it around Chan’s neck, as whispers words of encouragement in your ear.
The volume of your moans and whimpers grow so loud now that it’s drowning out the sound of the French woman’s singing. The man moves his fingers in and and out of your ass maintaining a relentlessly slow pace. The burning sensation with every drag of his fingers makes you cry out.
“Faster… harder… Sir I need… more.”
He quickly builds up the pace. Chan releases your hand to bring his hand to your neck, wrapping it around your throat and squeezing slightly but not enough to cut off air. Then he brings his thumb up to your lips. You open your mouth allowing him to slip his thumb inside. You pull at the hair on the back of his head and he pushes his thumb further into your mouth. The other man continues to fuck your ass with his fingers.
A mouth lands on your pussy. His tongue swirls around and through your lips. The tip of his tongue slides inside of you. Chan starts to fuck your mouth with his thumb, pushing it deep into your mouth roughly. You want him to ruin you.
You're practically screaming from the glorious agony, your senses are on overload.
Chan removes his thumb. “Is this okay?” he checks in with you.
“Yes… But… I want his cock now.”
“Ahhh yes, I bet you do. Let’s sort you out, yeah?”
The fingers inside your ass are removed and you feel the man shift his position.
His thighs press against the underside of yours. Then… you feel the tip of a cock. He pushes it against your opening, making you let out a pathetic whine. Your body is begging for him to push his cock in.
But he doesn't push it in. Moments pass and still nothing happens. What is happening? A sense of panic makes it’s way into your body. Has he changed his mind?
“He wants to know if we can take the blindfold off?” Chan asks.
You pause. He hasn’t changed his mind. You quickly decide what you want to do. Whoever it is wants you to be right there with him, making this moment together. Not him fucking you, but you fucking each other.
You bite your bottom lip. “Okay.” you say shakily. Your breath quickens at the thought of coming face to face with the man who has been pleasuring you so amazingly.
Chan takes over holding your right leg up and two hands come to rest on the sides of your blindfold, the tip of his cock slips into you slightly as he leans in towards you, giving you a tease of what’s to come. You can’t wait until he is all the way inside.
Your blindfold slides off but your vision is slightly blurry. You blink to adjust your eyes and the man before you becomes clear.
Minho.
He is looking at you expectantly, nervously, like you might run away at the sight of him.
You reach up and cup his face. His cheeks are flushed and lips pink and swollen. He isn’t even being the one fucked right now but he looks like he is.
“Hey.” you say with a dazed smile.
“Hey.” He replies. “Is this okay…do you want to keep…”
You wrap an arm around his waist and pull him down on top of you. His hands reach around to your ass and he lifts your hips up and pushes himself all the way inside of you.
Minho is finally free to make noises now and he makes long low moans as he rocks his hips into you. He looks down to where you're joined to watch his cock glide in and out.
You still have one arm wrapped around Chan’s neck, your other explores Minho’s body. His toned body undulates like some sort of exotic python. He’s even more skilled with his cock than with those magic fingers. He brings his mouth down onto yours mirroring his tongue with his thrusts. A skilled, diligent lover.
You melt together as his long, languid thrusts become deeper and you’re being pressed into Chan’s hard cock.
Without warning, Minho pulls out and flips you over in one fluid move so that you’re on all fours.
You look to the head of the bed and see Chan’s hard erection inside his sweat pants. You’re about to reach for it when you’re dragged down the bed by Minho. You look into Chan’s eyes longingly as you’re being pulled out of reach and he just stares back at you. You want to please him so badly.
Minho pushes his cock back inside of you making you cry out. Pleasure washes over you, mixing with the angst of yearning for Chan. He slides his thumb over your asshole and presses it inside. “Ahhh.. Yes, Minho.” You cry, squeezing your eyes tight.
He pushes it in all the way and rests his palm and fingers on your tail bone. His grip is perfect to rock you on and off his cock. You love feeling so filled up. You’re so close now.
Chan looks fucked out, like he’s on another planet. His engorged, swollen red cock is now out of his pants and in his hand, but he’s not doing anything with it. He’s just holding it absentmindedly. His eyes glazed over as he stares at you.
Minho must notice him too. “Kitten?” he pants. “Do you want to help Chan out? Make him come?”
You look at Chan eagerly. You’re practically salivating.
“Come over here Chan. It’s okay.” Minho encourages Chan over but he doesn’t move. “Before I cum.” He adds, hoping that will spur him on.
Chan, as if possessed, gets up onto his knees and crawls his way towards you. Once he is close enough he offers you the head of his cock and you take hold of it with one hand and guide him into your mouth. Chan whimpers at the touch. You lick your tongue along his shaft and over the tip before taking him deep into your mouth.
“Oh fuck!” Chan whines high pitched.
“Don’t use your hands. Make him work for it.” Minho growls.
You do as you’re told and release your grip but keeping him in your mouth.
Something in Chan snaps. He grabs the back of your head and starts plunging his cock into your mouth relentlessly. He tangles his fingers in your hair as he fucks your face without restraint. It makes you gag. It’s hard to take him and your eyes water.
You look up at him, he’s staring at you while his cock thrusts into your mouth, hitting the back of your throat, making you almost choke. Seeing Chan using you like this while Minho pounds into you from behind, is all too much.
You cry out around Chan’s cock as your legs shake and your cunt clenches around Minho. Your arms and legs buckle underneath you but Minho is there to hold you steady. He wraps an arm underneath you, keeping you in position.
Minho suddenly pulls out, painting your back in his cum with a long moan.
Chan growls and moans and pulls his cock out to massage his release into your waiting mouth and tongue. There is so much, coating your tongue and dribbling down your chin. He leans back onto his heels, shaking as he watches you swallow everything in your mouth, and then use your fingers to scoop the remaining cum on your chin and licking your fingers clean. He looks horrified and startled. Oh shit, have you done something wrong?
Chan quickly gets off the bed and pulls up his trackpants. “Fuck. I am so sorry.” He is so flustered.
“I’ll get the towels.” Minho announces and hops off the bed.
“Chan?” You whimper. He doesn’t seem to hear you. He’s is freaking out. “Chan!” You repeat, “I need you to hold me.”
Chan looks down at you, as though he is scared. What is going through his mind? Cautiously, he edges closer to the bed and sits beside you. You’re still in an all fours position waiting to have your back wiped clean, but you kneel up to let Chan wrap his arms around you. You nuzzle into his chest. Why is he so upset with you?
You feel him relax against you and he strokes your hair. “I shouldn’t have done that to you.” He whispers over and over. You don’t understand. You fucking loved that he did that to you. You’ve wanted it for so long.
“Oh Channie!” You cry. “I fucking want you, you idiot!”
Chan looks at you warily. “Really?”
You reach up and cup his cheek. “Yes.” You whisper, your eyes dropping to his lips. He closes the gap capturing you in a heated kiss. “Stay with me tonight, Chan.”
“Of course, baby girl. Of course."
Minho returned, cleaned you up and helped you and Chan hop into bed.
"I'm glad you two have finally got your act together." he said laughing as he said goodnight and left you and Chan to snuggle together.
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@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itshannjisung @kangnina @weareapackofstrays
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thelibraryghost · 11 days
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A Young Person's Guide to 18th-Century Western Fashion
unabridged version at blogspot
General info Cox, Abby. "I Wore 18th-Century Clothing *Every Day for 5 YEARS & This Is What I Learned (Corsets Aren't Bad!)." YouTube. May 10, 2020. Cullen, Oriole. “Eighteenth-Century European Dress.” In Heilbrunn Timeline of Art History. New York: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2004. Glasscock, Jessica. "Eighteenth-Century Silhouette and Support." In Heilbrunn Timeline of Art History. New York: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2004. Accessories Banner, Bernadette. "Women's Pockets Weren't Always a Complete Disgrace | A Brief History: England, 15th c - 21st c." YouTube. April 10, 2021. Colonial Williamsburg. "#TradesTuesday: Men's Accessories." YouTube. June 13, 2021. Murden, Sarah. "The Georgian era fashion for straw hats." All Things Georgian. December 6, 2018. Cosmetics & hygiene Cox, Abby. "I Followed an 18th-Century Moisturizer & Sunscreen Recipe & it kinda worked??." YouTube. February 21, 2021. Cox, Abby. "We tried making *5* different 250 year old rouge (blush) recipes || [real] regencycore makeup." YouTube. August 29, 2021. JYF Museums. "Hygiene in the 18th Century | From the Farm to the Army." YouTube. August 21, 2021. Décor Heckscher, Morrison H. “American Rococo.” In Heilbrunn Timeline of Art History. New York: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2003. Munger, Jeffrey. “French Porcelain in the Eighteenth Century.” In Heilbrunn Timeline of Art History. New York: The Metropolitan Museum of Art, 2003. Formal wear SnappyDragon. "This dressing gown changed fashion forever : the feminist history of going out in loungewear." YouTube. April 15, 2022. Stowell, Lauren. "The Many Types of 18th Century Gowns." American Duchess. March 15, 2013. Zebrowska, Karolina. "Cottagecore Style Is Much Older Than You Think." YouTube. June 30, 2021. Hair care Cox, Abby. "I made 250-year-old Hair Products Using Original Recipes (and animal fat...)." YouTube. November 7, 2021. Cox, Abby. "I tried a 300-year-old hair care routine for a year & this is what I learned (it's awesome!)." YouTube. January 23, 2022. Cox, Abby. "What's the Deal with 18th Century Wigs? (and why Bridgerton really messed this up)." YouTube. June 1, 2023. Laundry Cox, Abby. "Making 300 Year Old SLIME for Laundry Day." YouTube. June 15, 2023. Townsends. "Historical Laundry Part 2: No Washing Machine, No Dryer, Hit It With A Stick?" YouTube. June 3, 2019. Outer- & working-wear JYF Museum. "Getting Dressed | Clothing for an 18th Century Middling Woman." YouTube. March 18, 2021. Major, Joanne. "The practicalities of wearing riding habits, and riding ‘en cavalier’." All Things Georgian. March 12, 2019. Rudolph, Nicole. "What did Pirates ACTUALLY Wear? Fashion at Sea in the 18th c & Our Flag Means Death Costumes." YouTube. May 8, 2022. Shoes Chin, Cynthia E. "Martha Washington's Shoes." George Washington's Mount Vernon. No date. Murden, Sarah. "18th-century shoes." All Things Georgian. December 15, 2015. Rudolph, Nicole. "Real 18th century Shoes? Historical Shoemaker Examines an Antique." YouTube. December 13, 2020. Textiles Cox, Abby. "18th Century Printed Cotton Do's & Don't's." American Duchess. December 23, 2019. Stowell, Lauren. "Fabrics for the 18th Century and Beyond." American Duchess. June 14, 2021. Townsends. "Oil Cloth - Waterproof Coverings for Your Campsite." YouTube. July 30, 2018. Undergarments Major, Joanne. "Quilted Petticoats: worn by all women and useful in more ways than one." All Things Georgian. November 20, 2018. Rudolph, Nicole. "Making 18th century Stays for the Ideal Body Shape : Historical Undergarments." YouTube. August 12, 2023. SnappyDragon. "RUMP ROAST : Ranking historical fashion's wildest fake butt pads." YouTube. October 27, 2023. Townsends. "Sewing Histories' Most Popular Garment - The Fabric Of History - Townsends." YouTube. September 3, 2022.
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girlsdressingrooms · 2 months
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Iris Barrel Apfel, Decorator and Fashion Stylist
(August 29, 1921 – March 1, 2024) 
Ms. Apfel was one of the most vivacious personalities in the worlds of fashion, textiles, and interior design, she has cultivated a personal style that is both witty and exuberantly idiosyncratic.
Her originality was typically revealed in her mixing of high and low fashions—Dior haute couture with flea market finds, nineteenth-century ecclesiastical vestments with Dolce & Gabbana lizard trousers.
With remarkable panache and discernment, she combines colors, textures, and patterns without regard to period, provenance, and, ultimately, aesthetic conventions. Paradoxically, her richly layered combinations—even at their most extreme and baroque—project a boldly graphic modernity.
Iris Barrel was born on Aug. 29, 1921, in Astoria, Queens, the only child of Samuel Barrel, who owned a glass and mirror business, and his Russian-born wife, Sadye, who owned a fashion boutique.
She studied art history at New York University, then qualified to teach and did so briefly in Wisconsin before fleeing back to New York to work on Women's Wear Daily, and for interior designer Elinor Johnson, decorating apartments for resale and honing her talent for sourcing rare items before opening her own design firm. She was also an assistant to illustrator Robert Goodman.
As a distinguished collector and authority on antique fabrics, Iris Apfel has consulted on numerous restoration projects that include work at the White House that spanned nine presidencies from Harry Truman to Bill Clinton.
Along with her husband, Carl, she founded Old World Weavers, an international textile manufacturing company and ran it until they retired in 1992. The Apfels specialized in the reproduction of fabrics from the 17th, 18th, and 19th centuries, and traveled to Europe twice a year in search of textiles they could not source in the United States.
The Metropolitan Museum of Art’s Costume Institute assembled 82 ensembles and 300 accessories from her personal collection in 2005 in a show about her called “Rara Avis”.
Almost overnight, Ms. Apfel became an international celebrity of pop fashion.
Ms. Apfel was seen in a television commercial for the French car DS 3, became the face of the Australian fashion brand Blue Illusion, and began a collaboration with the start-up WiseWear. A year later, Mattel created a one-of-a-kind Barbie doll in her image. Last year, she appeared in a beauty campaign for makeup with Ciaté London.
Six years after the Met show she started her fashion line "Rara Avis" with the Home Shopping Network.
She was cover girl of Dazed and Confused, among many other publications, window display artist at Bergdorf Goodman, designer and design consultant, then signed to IMG in 2019 as a model at age 97.
Ms. Iris Apfel became a visiting professor at the University of Texas at Austin in its Division of Textiles and Apparel, teaching about imagination, craft and tangible pleasures in a world of images.
 In 2018, she published “Iris Apfel: Accidental Icon,” an autobiographical collection of musings, anecdotes and observations on life and style. 
Ms. Apfel’s apartments in New York and Palm Beach were full of furnishings and tchotchkes that might have come from a Luis Buñuel film: porcelain cats, plush toys, statuary, ornate vases, gilt mirrors, fake fruit, stuffed parrots, paintings by Velázquez and Jean-Baptiste Greuze, a mannequin on an ostrich.
The Museum of Lifestyle & Fashion History in Boynton Beach, Florida, is designing a building that will house a dedicated gallery of Ms. Apfel's clothes, accessories, and furnishings.
Ms. Apfel’s work had a universal quality, It’s was a trend.
Rest in Power !
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amuseoffyre · 9 months
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A rough layout of Whickber Street
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Most of this is sketched down from memory from the @primevideouk​ tour, but I’ve been able to cross-check some of the positions with the show :)
The hat shop is Bilton and Scaggs and the tailors’ shop is Battye and Palms, little tributes to the book and Discworld. The magic shop is Goldstone’s (I think) and as well as all the cool stuff they had inside, it had a poster of Fell the Marvellous in the window. 
I was too busy flailing to notice the name of the antique shop and didn’t spot the name of the fabric shop because it had shiny ornamental jewellery in the window and I was distracted. The Chinese herbalist’s name was in Chinese and there were adverts for acupuncture and massage in the windows.
Francesco’s is an Italian restaurant, Margeurite’s is French. Arnold Music is obviously the music shop. Mrs Sandwich lives/works above the Dirty Donkey. The back courtyard of the dirty donkey had stacks of sacks and crates against the wall. (As well as a large telly and beanbags for the screening)
The garden wall on the right was topped with trees and the backdrop for it, which added more layers to the trees, was hand-painted instead of blue-screened in. The fruit and veg carts had clearly not felt the impact of Br3xit based on their prices 😅
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danjaley · 3 days
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OC Deep Dive Questionnaire Tag
A set of 20 questions to get to know your OC!
Tagged by @nocturnalazure
Today is an excellent day to answer this for pre-revolution Nicolas. Tomorrow would have been a bit more complicated.
What uncommon/common fear do they have?
He’s very confident and not easily cowed. His double-life being exposed is of course the thing he wants to avoid most of all. But he sees this more as a risk than as a fear.
Do they have any pet peeves?
He has no patience with dilettantes who get their facts wrong about art-history.
What are 3 items you can find in their bedroom?
Books; an Egyptian scarab which was given to him as a lucky charm; a painting of the Forum Romanum from his Grand Tour.
What do they notice first in a person?
General appearance and demeanour. (Bonus fact: What immediately attracted him to Jonathan was that he has vaguely classical features – and what totally got him was that he speaks French with a Scottish accent)
On a scale of 1 to 10, how high is their pain tolerance?
7-8. He was brought up not to be whiny. But he's had a comfortable life in good health so far.
Do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure?
His instinct would rather be flight (or solve the problem with money and/or influence), but if duty binds him to fight, he will stand his ground.
Do they come from a big family/are they a family person?
Not really. He grew up with only his mother as immediate family. He saw enough of his parents’ marriage as a boy to get rather disillusioned. On the other hand he’s proud of his family’s legacy and never questioned his duty to continue it. He does try to be a better husband and father than his own. But if he were just an average person of today, he wouldn’t have wanted any children. He’d be content to travel the world with Jonathan, but actually Jonathan wants more of a family-life.
What animal represents them best?
He always reminds me of a cat, being very neat and taking his privileges entirely for granted.
What is a smell that they dislike?
He lives in a time where various kinds of stench are so common that he’s glad enough to avoid those.
Have they broken any bones?
See above - he's had a comfortable life in good health so far.
How would a stranger likely describe them?
“Arrogant idiot” (Matt)
Are they a night owl or a morning bird?
He moves in circles where it’s not unusual to rise at noon, so the interesting things tend to happen in the evenings and at night. When he’s working by himself, he prefers the early hours for their better light.
What is a flavor they hate and a flavor they love?
The likes coffee, both for its aroma and as a status symbol. He doesn’t like coarse food, like gruel or badly prepared cabbage.
Do they have any hobbies?
As an aristocrat, studying Antiquity is officially his hobby, not his job. But it’s his true calling and he even made some money from it. Apart from that, he’s always ready to join in any pastime suggested by the group he’s with.
Boom, surprise birthday party! How do they react to surprises?
He’d pretend not to be surprised at all – but there’s no way he would have forgotten to organize his own birthday party. At home, this would be a very dignified meet-and-greet. In Italy it would be a picnic by some scenic ruins with good wine and a select circle of friends (plus their travelling-companions, private secretaries, or whatever they wish to call them).
Do they like to wear jewelry?
No. He retired the family’s signet ring and had a more practical stamp made for sealing letters. (Like all my characters he doesn’t wear a wedding ring because those are are such clumsy meshes, a nuisance to put on in CAS and only add to the blur of other accessories.)
Do they have neat or messy handwriting?
Neat handwriting, signature with lots of frills
What are two emotions they feel the most?
Mild amusement, cool stubbornness
Do they have a favorite fabric?
Anything that looks and feels like high quality. Not necessarily limited to a particular material.
What kind of accent do they have?
A French one, when he speaks English. His Italian is accent-free and his French is supposed to be very posh (if only my own weren't so poor!)
Tagging @windermeresimblr and @kimmiessimmies
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blueiskewl · 6 months
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Coin reveals little-known Roman ruler
Treasure hunters have unearthed a coin bearing the head of a virtually unknown Roman ruler who briefly held power in Gaul around A.D. 270 as the empire teetered.
It is only the second coin ever found showing the head of Domitianus, who seized power — and the mint — in the breakaway Gallic Empire, which included modern England, France and parts of Germany and lasted for 15 turbulent years.
“We know next to nothing about Domitianus, except that he was ‘punished’ by the Roman Emperor Aurelian for treason,” Richard Abdy, curator of Roman coins at the British Museum, told Reuters. “But at least now we know what he looked like.”
Studied by coin experts
The first coin bearing Domitianus’ head was found in the Loire area of France in 1900, dismissed as a fake because his name was unknown and then lost from sight in a small museum in Nantes until very recently.
“It is now being studied by numismatists. When I showed our coin to the woman who has been working on it she jumped for joy because it bore out everything she had said about hers,” Abdy said, noting the French coin had been dated to A.D. 271.
The Gallic Empire was established in 260, when rule from Rome was weakening, by Postumus. He was succeeded nine years later by Marius, who held the throne for a matter of weeks before being strangled and in turn replaced by Victorinus, who ruled until 271 when he too was murdered.
Domitianus is believed to have murdered Victorinus, who had a habit of raping the wives of his subordinates, before himself being ousted by Tetricus. Tetricus ruled from 271 to 274, when he was defeated by Aurelian and the empire was restored.
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Found on farmland
The British coin, which goes on show at the British Museum starting Wednesday, was found on farmland near Oxford just under a year ago as part of a hoard of 5,000 Roman coins fused together in an earthenware pot.
“It is a type of coin we know as a ‘radiant’ because there are rays radiating from his head. It is a two-denarii piece, which at that time, when they were coining money as fast as they could, would have been worth a couple of hours’ work,” Abdy said.
The base metal coin, which originally had a surface coating of silver, is now conservatively estimated to be worth a five-figure sum, Abdy said.
At the time it was minted, the once-mighty Roman Empire was undergoing a period of intense flux.
The years between 270 and 285 were marked by chaos in the empire, with more than 20 different emperors and 30 different pretenders fighting for power. Only one of these leaders died a natural death.
By Jeremy Lovell.
Original posted Feb. 24, 2004.
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The Coin Hoard
Until this discovery was made some scholars doubted the historical significance of Domitianus who is named just twice in the historical sources. The Oxfordshire coin provides archaeological evidence suggesting that he successfully proclaimed himself emperor of a breakaway part of the Roman Empire during the reign of Aurelian (AD 270-5).
Richard Abdy (Curator of Roman coins at the British Museum) said that ‘during the 270s AD the fabric of the Roman Empire had become strained. Breakaway empires, like the so-called ‘Gallic Empire’ that included Britain, were established and ruled by a succession of rebel emperors. Finding a coin produced in the name of Domitianus means that he should now be recognised as one such rebel emperor.’
The failure of Roman writers to identify him as a rebel emperor even led the only other coin of Domitianus – found in France in 1900 – to be dismissed as a modern fake. The new discovery was struck from the same dies that were used to produce this earlier find and has therefore put its authenticity beyond any doubt.
Ian Leins (Finds Adviser, Iron Age and Roman coins, Portable Antiquities Scheme) said ‘the portrait on the new coin very closely resembles that of the rebel emperors Victorinus and Tetricus. It is highly possible that other coins of Domitianus exist in the collections of museums and individuals but have escaped detection. It is important that people start to pay more attention to these often neglected finds and record them with their local Finds Liaison Officer.’
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lmao i said rule 63 bc line didn't interest me and then @ooohordie said "what if they were con artists?" and now i'm obsessed. 1.5k, nsfw.
Will practically tiptoes in the door of their room, strappy sandals dangling from her hand. It’s almost as if she doesn’t expect Ryan to be waiting up, sitting in the chair by the window for so long that he didn’t notice when the last of the sunset light disappeared.
“How was your evening?” In the dark, he can’t tell if Will startles at the question.
If she does, her voice doesn’t reveal it. “It was nice.” She kneels by her open suitcase to tuck her shoes inside. “There were oysters.” They don’t scatter their things around a hotel room. Sometimes they have to leave in a hurry. “A whole tower of them.”
Ryan pictures Will and Gabe at a cafe on the edge of the water, the lake lapping gently at the shore while the sun sets over the Italian hills that surround them. Will looking up at him from under her eyelashes, Gabe entranced. Probably in a linen shirt that someone else picked out for him. Some kind of nice fish on broad plates in front of them, cooked in butter. Maybe an expensive white wine. Ryan’s stomach growls.
Will twists the switch on the antique lamp next to the dressing table. The light through the milky glass shade turns the corner of the room golden. It doesn’t reach all the way to the high ceiling, or over to where Ryan’s sitting. It’s still dark enough by the window to see the view without a glare from the cavernous room. Tiny lights wink in the distance as the boats on the lake sway gently, anchored for the night. 
Will arranges herself on the fussy little cushioned stool in front of the dressing table. In front of the oval mirror, she tilts her head one way and then the other as she takes out her earrings. The mirror is flecked with age, intended for status rather than function, like the other antiques that fill the room.
Ryan crosses the room. Before Will can lift her hands, he unhooks the clasp of her necklace and lets the strand of pearls slither down into her lap. Will catches the necklace and adds it to the little black velvet bag with the matching earrings. She’s had the pearls since before Ryan met her. Probably a gift, somewhere along the way. A useful one. Pearls give a certain assurance of class.
Will removes the hairpins from her french twist one by one, dropping them onto the dressing table. Ryan rests his hands on her bare shoulders. “How was Gabe?”
The mirror reflects a considering expression on Will’s face. “He’s sweet.” She pulls one last hairpin and her hair tumbles over Ryan’s hands.
“I mean,” Ryan says. He sweeps Will’s hair to one side and takes the zipper pull at the back of her dress between his thumb and fingertip. He repeats himself, more weighted this time. “How was Gabe?”
Will tips her chin up to meet his gaze in the mirror. A smile plays over her lips. “Such an overprotective brother.” 
“Sister dear,” Ryan purrs as he pulls the zipper down slowly. “I’m just looking out for you.” As the zipper opens, the bodice of the dress slumps downward, exposing the tops of Will’s breasts.
Will’s black dress has served them well. An investment, once when they were flush. The expensive fabric can go to any party, any dinner, stunning without being memorable. If Will wants to be looked at, men remember the way the dress clings to her willowy figure. If she doesn’t, she’s got a knack for fading into the background, just another girl in a little black dress. In a pinch, she can pass as the help.
Not tonight. Tonight Will intended to be looked at, and Ryan’s certain that Gabe obliged. Just like Gabe looked at her sunning herself on the deck of the Perreault family yacht, the strings of her bikini untied to preserve the uninterrupted plane of tanned skin from her neck to her waist, and asked her to dinner.
Meanwhile, Ryan was ingratiating himself to Gabe’s father. They talked about golf and boxing and the family shipping business as the lines snapped and the breeze off the water ruffled their hair. It wasn’t difficult. It never is. Men like Yanic like their sons to have friends like Ryan. It reassures them that their pampered little rich boys aren’t soft.
Nobody ever mistakes Ryan for soft. But often they mistake him for rich.
Will stands, letting the dress pool around her feet. Ryan runs a finger over the knobs of her spine down to the triangle of lace at the back of her thong. It’s one of her only expensive pieces of lingerie. Saved for occasions like this one, nights when she has to look the part all the way down to her skin.
Will flicks the dress off one foot, leaving it in a heap to the side. It will survive. It always does, just like them. She turns to face Ryan, wearing nothing but her high-class panties, lace curling toward her hipbones.
Once a billionaire in a golf foursome Ryan had charmed his way into told him that a woman’s breasts should fit into a champagne glass. He might as well have been describing Will. Ryan thinks of it every time he sips a cocktail from a perfect little coupe.
Will perches on the edge of the dressing table, teasing. “What do you want to know?”
“Did you fuck him?” Ryan kicks the stool out of the way and steps between her legs. 
“Of course I did.” Will rolls her eyes. She tugs the hem of Ryan’s undershirt out of his trousers and slips her hands underneath, running her palms up his chest. 
Ryan lets her strip the undershirt over his head. “Was he good?”
“Hmmm.” Will touches his shoulder, walking her fingers from freckle to freckle. Ryan’s freckles are the reason they always pick a vaguely Irish last name. Will probably doesn’t have an Irish bone in her body, but people are always ready to believe that a doe-eyed girl like her is a nice Irish lassie. “He was…” Will's eyes cut to the side, considering and rejecting ways to end the sentence. “...Inexperienced,” she concludes. She giggles. “I think his hands were shaking.”
Ryan cups a hand around her breast. “Did he like these?”
“Seemed to like the taste.” Will’s lips twist in a half-laugh. “Spent enough time with them in his mouth.”
Ryan frames her chest with a thumb and forefinger. “He didn’t even leave a mark?” It’s disappointing. Will’s perfect tits always look better with the evidence of Ryan’s teeth imprinted there. What a waste for Gabe to fuck Will and not even leave behind a bruise for Ryan to press on.
“I told you he was sweet.” She twists a hand in Ryan’s hair as he bends to put his mouth to her breast.
He scrapes his teeth over her nipple, and Will gasps. “No marks.”
“I know.” Ryan sucks a kiss against her skin, stopping before the pressure of his mouth bruises.
He hooks a finger into the lacy string over her hip instead. Will props her hands on the tabletop behind her and arches up so he can slip the underwear down her thighs. Ryan handles the delicate lace with care even though he wants to rip and pull, let the strings dig into Will’s skin until they snap. Someday they’ll have money to burn and he’ll be able to ruin her fancy lingerie, sink his teeth into her, fuck her in a bed that they’re not going to get kicked out of as soon as somebody realizes they’re not paying.
That’s incentive enough to keep Will’s smooth skin and her fanciest underwear pristine for Gabe.
Will opens her legs to him and Ryan slides a finger between them. “Were you this wet for him?”
“That’s for family only.” Will’s laugh stutters into a moan as Ryan presses the heel of his hand against her clit. She tips her head back. The tanned column of her throat accentuates the long line down her breastbone, over her flat stomach, all the way to where Ryan’s working his fingers inside her. 
“That’s right.” Ryan yanks open his belt one-handed and shoves down his trousers. He takes Will by the hips. She cries out when he thrusts into her, and then reaches for him, wrapping her legs around his waist and crooking an arm around his neck.
Ryan kisses her roughly, his tongue scouring any taste of Gabe out of her mouth. He presses his forehead against Will’s. “I’m being so nice to Gabe,” he murmurs, punctuating nice with a snap of his hips. “Letting him fuck my little sister.”
Will’s body tightens around him, inside and out. “Such a generous brother.” She ducks her head and her sharp little teeth sting his neck. The mirror rattles in its frame and the hairpins scatter across the dressing table as Ryan fucks her harder, deeper, better than Gabe ever will. Her fingernails dig into his back as her voice goes high and breathless against his ear. “Best brother I’ve ever had.”
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In the living room, seats with simple white slipcovers partner unusual pieces of Swedish 19th-century furniture. Points to note: the casually positioned throws of antique striped silk, and the simple Scandinavian style drapes of lightweight fabric at the windows.
The French Touch: Decoration and Design in the Most Beautiful Homes in France, 1988
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myetsyworld · 1 year
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Delicate cotton cretonne from France. A tad faded but looks great considering it is 100+ years old.
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youre-ackermine · 2 months
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Moodboard:
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Headcanons:
"Best Valentine's Day ever?" asks one of your coworkers.
You are relaxing in the break room after a long meeting, trying to blabber tension away with your colleagues over a cup of coffee & sweets. The question takes you off guard & you almost choke on the delicious chocolate you just gobbled.
You swallow your mouthful.
"Well, yesterday I guess," you reply with a shy smile as a faint blush tints your cheeks.
You'd been dating Jean for a few years before finally getting married a couple months ago. "Honeymoon phase doesn't survive daily routine" you'd heard countless times, but nothing was less true regarding your loving husband & you in your opinion.
Jean has always been a caring, attentive boyfriend & fiancé but nothing compares to the way he makes you feel loved ever since your wedding. The man seems to spoil you more every day. Valentine's Day is no exception & you revel in the memory of yesterday.
Jean decided to take care of every one of your needs & desires. He wants you to feel how much it means to him to wake up beside you every morning. His wife. His. Forever.
He managed to convince you to take a day off & enjoy the special holiday with him.
He wakes up before you & prepares breakfast with your favourite pancakes recipe, his mother's actually. He found some strawberries, your fruit of choice, on his way home from work yesterday. They're not in season but he smiles at the thought of how delighted you'll look when you see the little bowl on the breakfast tray. He adds a bit of whipped cream on the side, a cup of tea, & everything seems perfect for his perfect wife.
Of course, he wakes you up peppering your face with soft kisses, smoothing your tousled locks out of your face with gentle strokes of his fingers. Still sleepy, you smile at him as he gazes at your features.
He tells you how cute you are with your messy bed hair. He tells you how much he loves you & how lucky he is to wake up every morning beside the most beautiful woman he has ever seen.
He cups your face & kisses you slowly, tenderly on the lips. He slips under the sheets & takes you in his arms, coaxing you into staying a little longer in bed, taking care of you in the sweetest & most pleasurable ways.
His kisses, his strokes, the words he whispers in your ear, every little thing he does leaves you flustered like a teenager, butterflies fluttering in your chest. You sense, you know he feels the same when he holds you tight, burying his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent, & nothing is better than this moment of bliss.
The whole day is dedicated to you, the love of his life. Ask him anything & he happily complies. Running a warm bath, massaging you, taking you out for a walk or a boat ride on the lake near your house, preparing a delicious meal, cuddling on the couch, anything for the lady of his dreams. Anything for his princess.
He keeps the gifts simple but thoughtful. A beautiful bouquet of white tulips, those books you spotted the other day at the antique shop, your favourite macarons from the French pâtisserie in town & a piece of jewellery nicely wrapped in fabric to remind you how much he loves you.
You feel cherished, you feel spoiled, you feel loved -& you love him back so much. You can't wait to spend a lifetime beside this wonderful man. Your man. Yours.
Heart pounding in your chest & cheeks flushing pink, you snap out of the sweet memories with a soft smile.
Only to see all your coworkers' eyes fixed on you, waiting for your next words.
"Yeah, yesterday was definitely the best Valentine's Day ever!"
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Moodboard, header & dividers: @youre-ackermine
Requested by: Eliza @postwarlevi 🌹
A/N: White tulips symbolize true love & eternal devotion, as well as a fresh start in a relationship // English is not my usual language // Click on the moodboard for better quality
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parisbytaylorswift · 1 month
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Pros/Cons list below
1 Pros: I already have a good black dress to use for the top in this, white skirt/flowers are easily acquired and not expensive, would be a pretty quick project over my spring break
Cons: Not much of a challenge for myself is really the only thing. I imagine this costume is pretty common, since it’s not too hard to do with low level sewing skills
2 pros: I also already have a black gothy dress that would work for this that I found at an antique stores ages ago (not exactly like the pic here, but similar), I have a lot of sequins/fabric glue for this on hand already as well.
Cons: not sure how comfortable/hot this would be to wear at tour. Unless Paris has really cool weather in spring or really good ventilation in La Défense Arena, maybe not very comfortable.
3 pros: Ultimate fabulousness. Literally my pfp. It’s who I am. Peak user parisbytaylorswift behavior. Obnoxiously french and fun.
cons: I’d be hunting for/buying basically all of this because I don’t already own anything that would work well for it (shocking, I know). Also uhhhh, probably really heavy in a suitcase? I’ll be in France for 10/11ish days and need luggage room for the rest of my stuff too lmao.
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gothhabiba · 11 months
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do u have more details on your mourning veil(s)?? i am not in mourning but i have been wanting to wear veils in everyday life (probably not in black) and i also plan to dress in some kind of modified mourning when i next experience a death in my circles. im curious about whether u wear it over your face ever (im autistic and thats pretty much why ive been wanting to start wearing veils, apart from the aesthetics of it ofc lol), and also curious about the logistics, like what shapes they are & how opaque they are?
Mine is a 1930s (?) French veil; it's a large (34 x 60") rectangle of sheer material that seems to be black silk crepe. A short stretch of fabric in the center of one of the long ends (5") has two threads drawn through it to gather it together, producing a sort of half-circle of negative space where the veil may be attached to a bonnet; when worn, this causes the two corners of the rectangle nearest the head to fall down somewhat lower than the shoulders, while the two corners further away fall over the back and down to the knees: here's a link to a French mourning veil that looks similar.
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1930s French veil laid out over a table; close-up on the ruching.
A bunch of writing from the 19th and early 20th centuries decries the expectation for widows to wear veils over their faces, claiming that the veils were heavy, stifling, and difficult to see and breathe through. I haven't found that to be the case with this one—even with my muscle disorder (like, my neck can only briefly and painfully support the weight of my head), the weight of the veil alone is negligible. It's very sheer and not too difficult to see and breathe through.
That being said, I wouldn't recommend wearing an antique veil (on the rare chance you find one—mourning clothes are harder than most antique clothing to come by, since the dye doesn't tend to wear very well, and crepe in particular had a tendency to shed and break down) over your face! You don't know for sure what kinds of dye or fixatives were used on it, and some of the more popular ones are things that you should not be breathing in.
Re-creation mourning veils intended for re-enactors can be purchased online—you may also have some luck looking into things marketed as Goth wedding veils. The only veil I occasionally wear over my face is a modern recreation. However, I found it difficult to come across one that didn't include satin trim or lace (both prohibited in English deep mourning). If you have some basic sewing skills, it shouldn't be hard to get a rectangle of sheer fabric (silk gauze or cotton voile might work; I have some 100gsm black linen on hand so I can tell you that it's a bit difficult to see through) and hem it on all sides.
You will need a hatpin or something similar to attach your veil to a bonnet or other headwear, or else it will blow right off. Headwear with a brim has the advantage of keeping the veil a few inches away from your face. The veil can be worn covering the entire bonnet and falling down over your face, or you can throw it back (so that it's folded over the back half of the bonnet, still held in place by the pin) to reveal your face. If you place the pin or pins about halfway back, you can make this adjustment on the fly. You could probably also just sew the veil to the bonnet if you're never going to wear them separately.
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Short, modern veil worn over an 1860s-style bonnet to cover the face; the same veil worn over a bonnet to partly cover the face.
This veil makes everything look a bit darker and more grainy and gives a slight halo to light sources. It's not too noticable and I wouldn't say it impedes vision for the sake of any everyday task you would need to do.
When I'm forgoing the bonnet, I put my hair up into a bun, leaving some hair off to the side to make a braid; I pin the veil into my hair by putting bobby pins through my hair and then around the edge of, not through the fabric of, the veil (so that one half of the pin is between the veil and my head, and the other half is on top of the veil); then I take the braid and pull it over the area where the veil meets my hair, securing it with the halves of the bobby pins that are on top of the veil, and using another few pins to secure the bottom of the braid (the part closer to my forehead than the back of my head). There's no historical precedent for this, but it keeps the veil secure without damaging it, and keeps me from needing to wear a hat inside.
You can get a lot of variation in style by doing this:
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1930s French veil worn directly in the hair with one large braid covering the join;
Ditto, with one large braid covering the join and one small decorative one across the head;
Ditto, with two twists of different sizes in stead of the braids;
Ditto, with the hair drawn into two buns at the side of the head under the veil, in stead of into one bun at the back;
Ditto, with one bun and one braid covering the join, with additional hair pinned into decorative swirling shapes on top of the head.
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Totally drooling over this historic French townhouse. Look at the terrace floor and balustrades. 
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This entrance! The bldg is in the town of Perpignan near the Spanish border, so it’s an unusual example of French bourgeois style and a provincial Spanish influence.
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The stairs in old French buildings are so beautiful, that you almost don’t mind that they don’t have elevators (except when you have to stuff to carry up).
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The 19th century home is owned by fabric makers Francoise and Henri.
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Look at the magnificent kitchen on the 2nd level. 
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Built-in herb garden.
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This kitchen is so big and is equipped to accommodate a chef.
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I love the old patinaed look of it. 
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In addition to the fancy chandelier on over the island, there’s a fun spoon fixture, also. 
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They have a serious sink and double stove. Look at the size of those exhaust filters.
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They stayed true to the split personality of the home and decorated some rooms in grande bourgeoisie, Louis XVI style and others in traditional, colorful and exotic Hispanic style.
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Check out the amazing bath- the vintage tile and antique shower.
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Look at the skylight in the courtyard. 
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Such a gorgeous, drool-worthy building and townhouse. 
https://www.messynessychic.com/
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