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#old céline
fashionlandscapeblog · 8 months
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Céline pirate mules Fall Winter 2017
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totallyfuckd · 1 month
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Joan Didion photographed by Juergen Teller for Céline, 2015.
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newestcool · 15 days
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Celine s/s 2017 rtw ''Clasp Bag'' Creative Director Phoebe Philo Newest Cool
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nooravesterinen · 5 months
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Céline by Phoebe Philo
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zendayastylefiles · 2 years
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Is there any brand that Z hasn't worn on the red carpet that you'd like to see her wear? Me: Schiaparelli
I would love to see her wear some Theophilio, some Rokh, Harbison, Roksanda, Fe Noel, and some Old Céline for her everyday wardrobe.
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arianakozlova · 8 months
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Céline ss13
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hommedessept · 1 year
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graceelaineeee · 6 months
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IG: @graceelaineee
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ivorywork · 2 years
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Diagonals, parallels and intersections
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kiarits · 11 months
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"It would really be necessary to close the world for two or three generations at least if there were no more lies to tell. There would be nothing more to say, or almost. The things you cared about the most, you decide one day to talk about them less and less, you have to make an effort when you put yourself into it. You're pissed of listening to you always gossip... You cut it off... You give up... You've been chattering for thirty years... You no longer want to be right. It makes you want to keep even the little place you reserved for yourself among pleasures... You feel disgusted... All you need to do is eat a little, warm up a bit and sleep as much as possible on the way to absolute nothingness. In order to regain interest, one would need to invent new faces to perform in front of others... But one no longer has the strength to change the repertoire. You stammer. You still look for tricks and excuses to stay there with them, your friends, but death is there too, stinking, by your side, all the time now and less mysterious than a deck of cards. Only the minute sorrows remain precious to you, that of not having found the time while he was alive to go and see his old uncle in Bois-Colombes, with his little song that died away forever one February evening. It's all you've kept of life. This little atrocious regret, you more or less vomited the rest along the way, with a lot of effort and pain. You are nothing but an old lamppost of memories on the corner of a street where hardly anyone passes anymore. Thus end our secrets when you expose them to the air and in public. What is terrible in us and on earth and in heaven is perhaps only what has not yet been said. We will only be calm when everything has been said, once and for all, then we will finally be silent and we will no longer be afraid to keep quiet. We will be there. The truth is an agony that never ends. The truth of this world is death. You have to choose, die or lie."
Louise Ferdinand Cèline, photo by Roger Viollet-Meudon (1955-1956)
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aiiaiiiyo · 2 years
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Céline by Phoebe Philo
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divine-donna · 16 days
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tell me
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instead of writing a fic, i settled on writing just a general collection of headcanons. these are gender neutral. and uh, i'm on a mission to convert my friend to the swann arlaud agenda.
anyways watch anatomy of a fall on a big screen. don't do what i did, which is just watch it on my laptop. movie is too good to be watched on a laptop. and also be a streaming service.
these are gender neutral, by the way.
part 02
character: vincent renzi (aka. hot lawyer from anatomy of a fall)
for vibes: "tell me" by fifty fifty
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moving to france wasn't on your list of things to do when you were in your early teens. it was such a drastic move. but unfortunately, it made sense because your mother was a film scholar who specialized in french film and she got a job to teach at a prestigious university. it was an opportunity she had to take and you were brought along for the ride.
picking up french was not that hard. you learned in school and also picked it up from the films your mother watched. you remembered watching Cléo from 5 to 7 a lot. maybe you shouldn't have, considering its themes. being immersed in the environment helped you pick up on it quicker.
all to say, you were fluent by the time you reached university.
you don't remember which class you met him in. you just know you got put in a group together for introductions. typical first year stuff.
"vincent renzi."
he had a boyish charm to him. he looked younger than you, yet you were the same age. there was still some baby fat on his cheeks.
your smile was warm. "(y/n)."
he became one of your first friends.
university was a rough transition period. you left your old friends behind. you didn't like them that much anyways. they didn't seem to like you either. so, you essentially came into university without many friends.
it's a gradual friendship, one that arises from meeting up consistently and then those meetings evolving into hanging out for hours.
doing schoolwork while drinking coffee, reading in the library, going out for dinner. hell even cooking for each other. it was a solid friendship.
it helped that you guys also wandered in the same social circle. so you also had mutual friends, including german exchange student sandra voyter.
they always talked about how you two were together. always seen talking. always seen outside of class. even when you guys had so much work to do and you shouldn't be with him because you guys ended up distracted and procrastinating your papers.
"why do you still have this?" he asks.
it was your third year of university. your place was small cozy. and it was affordable with your two other roommates. you guys had gotten lucky with the rent.
"have what?" you don't look up from your laptop. you were nearly finished with your paper.
"this."
you look up. vincent's holding up a dvd box with a beat up cover sleeve. the colors were faded and the cardboard was bent all over, creating multiple webs.
"because it's mine?"
"it's all beat up. wouldn't it be better to transfer to a new box?" he shrugs.
"my mother gave it to me when i graduated. it's...niche, i guess." you think about how she gifted you her favorite movie and the movie she has written a whole book about.
"everyone knows Céline and Julie Go Boating."
"not in that sense. just in the sense that my mother has an interesting way to mourn me leaving the house." you still stayed with her when you went back. but graduating really proved that you weren't a kid anymore. "i really liked it when i was younger. because of the colors. the rest of the stuff did not register with me. according to her, i kept asking her to put it on."
"you must have had an interesting taste as a child."
"well...she specializes in this stuff. so i'm not surprised."
"you don't even have a tv."
"okay well, i have it for novelty sake."
your eyes return to your laptop screen. you don't notice the way vincent's eyes linger on you, watching the way your fingers intently move as you finish up your paper. or how you furrow your brows when rereading your sentence and realizing it makes no sense. or the gentle curse beneath your breath when you realize you've forgotten a word in your sentence. he's never heard someone curse so gently.
he sets the dvd back where he picked it up from, feeling the worn out cardboard.
it was your birthday. such a scary time, for it to come so soon.
originally, you thought it was going to be you, vincent, sandra, and some of your other friends. after all, vincent was good as organizing group events and outings.
when you showed up at your usual meeting spot, it was just him.
"are they going to meet us there?" you question.
"we'll meet them after." he smiles.
"what is going on in that brain of yours?"
"you'll see."
when he takes your hand, your heart flutters. you've held hands before. but never did it make you feel so...light. like a cloud. you weren't sure if you were imagining your cheeks heating up slightly.
vincent leads you to a nearby cinema. he buys two tickets for a limited showing of Céline and Julie Go Boating.
"this is so..." you can't help but let out a laugh, staring at the movie ticket.
"why not? get the full experience." his eyes are gentle. there's tenderness in his gaze. it makes you feel all warm and gooey on the inside.
"you know the movie is...over three hours long right?"
"of course. that's why i picked an earlier showing. so we can get to dinner on time later."
being in the dark with your friend for over three hours. watching a movie about two people who were coded to be lovers. what could go wrong?
nothing, really. in the eyes of someone else.
to you, and to him, everything.
you haven't seen the film in forever. so rewatching it was like watching it for the first time without being distracted by the colors.
vincent couldn't watch the movie. he was more interested in the way your face shifted, how you whispered about not remembering that happening, how you laughed and the way your lips curled so cutely.
in truth, he could care less about the movie.
you were his favorite film.
as céline and julie were in a soap opera, enacting a hetero-normative plot, you turn to look at vincent. you were wondering how your friend was holding up.
your eyes meet his and your lips can't help but curl into a smile.
"are you watching?"
"of course." his eyes flicker to the screen for a brief moment.
"or were you watching me?"
"your reactions are interesting. they tell me what i should be thinking of the film."
"i shouldn't be the one you judge this film on."
silence between you two. the kind of comfortable silence you two are used to. but something feels more different. perhaps because it was dark. perhaps because the world seemed to fall away and it was just the two of you and the film faded into the background.
you were oddly close to him. your shoulders were touching. and if you moved forward, your noses would be able to touch.
you shift closer, causing his breath to hitch. "thank you for this, by the way." when you whisper, it is a message only meant for him.
"happy birthday." he says. he moves his face closer, heart pounding.
you want to meet him in the middle. you want to feel his soft lips against your own. and yet, something grips you hard. it's stomach curdling.
you move forward, your lips on his cheek. his eyes widen and his shoulders slump a little. you pull away. "it's...nice. to have the bestest friend i know."
"that's not a word." sadness settles in his eyes.
"all words are made up. so i can make up new ones."
in the moment you felt unsure about not making a move. that regret comes to follow you in your life.
graduation came too soon. way too soon.
you had decided to leave france for a bit, go to grad school abroad. somewhere else where you could pursue an mfa in creative writing.
it was your last coffee before you guys would graduate, inevitably separating.
vincent said he wanted to tell you something. it was urgent, something important to him. you could tell he wanted to spit it out.
or did he want to vomit because he was nervous?
"stop leaving me in suspense!" you take a sip of your coffee. "what is it?"
should he tell you?
should he confess?
he wants to tell you. oh so desperately. and yet, he feels it would be selfish to.
it's not about if you didn't feel the same way. to vincent, being rejected is the better scenario.
he didn't want to keep you grounded in france, a place you were looking to leave because you have spent a decent chunk of your life here. moving was good for you.
he worried that if you felt the same way, then maybe you would reconsider going away. and if you were looking to leave forever, he didn't want to be the thing keeping you here.
i love you. i have for a while. let's go on a date.
thirteen words. three sentences.
it was so miniscule. but he felt like atlas, carrying the sky. he was carrying a whole world.
vincent wipes his palms against his jeans. his heart was stuck in his throat. and his brain acted first.
"i got accepted into law school."
"that's great! oh my god!" you nearly squeal for him.
your happiness for him was enough.
writing a hit debut novel is no easy feat. and yet, you did it. people loved your novel.
the novel centered on two friends. their platonic bond ends up in a weird limbo, where there's romantic tension but neither wants to act upon it in fear. ultimately, the two friends reunite years after they separated, on different career paths. they meet at a conference, sit at a bar, and the novel ends with them rekindling their relationship. you left it up to the reader to interpret that being romantic or platonic. or even if they never talked to each other again after that night.
you were on fire as an author. and your recent publication, a collection of short stories, had become particularly famous. especially on social media.
you decided to go back to france for a few months. you wanted to spend more time with your mother and catch up with your friends. all of them you haven't seen since university.
unfortunately it also didn't mean you were on vacation. you still had to work. and you had many book signings to attend to.
when you look up to see the next person, your heart nearly lurches out of your chest.
vincent aged like wine. he still looked like how he did in university. less baby fat. gray hair. some wrinkles. but you liked it.
his eyes meet yours and he walks over. "my favorite short story was the one about the cow farmer."
"that came from a dream i had as an undergraduate student." you open the book and sign the first page. "how are you?"
"good. good. how about you?" he smiles. he's so radiant. you're reminded why you missed him. and why you felt regret in your body from all those years ago.
"well, you already know about me." you gesture to the books. your books. "have you...met up with sandra recently?"
"on the rare occasion. she's been traveling a lot. but recently she moved here. with her husband."
"her husband...samuel?" vincent nods. "he's an interesting character. from the few times i met him."
"they seem to be doing alright." he takes the signed book and peeks at what you wrote. there's a heart next to his name.
"we should talk more. catch up."
"if you're free."
you think for a second. "can you come back in thirty minutes? i should be done by then."
vincent smiles. he leaves the bookstore.
he's waiting outside for you after those thirty minutes.
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lolasimms · 11 months
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let’s say wife!abby and the reader are trying for a baby, how do you think she’d react to the reader being pregnant with twins?
౨ৎ expecting twins with abby ౨ৎ
warnings: mentions of pregnancy, allusions to sex, explicit language.
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You were on your third round of IVF, and following two unsuccessful tries you were stoked to find that you were expecting a set of twins. Ahead of the journey, both you and Abby knew that because you were having children through IVF the chances of having multiples was not a rarity.
That didn’t stop Abby from expressing her fear of them however, seeing as you already had your hands full with your first two children. So you decided you’d tell her after work, when the babies were down for the night and the house was in a state of calm, rather than the usual chaos caused by your loud and attention needing four year olds.
౨ৎ
Abby stood next to you while you brushed your teeth, she combed your wet hair for you. Left soft kisses on the back of your neck when you mumbled about how tired you were, trailed behind you out of the bathroom and into the girl’s dimly lit nursery.
Both your daughters snores filling the air, with Abby attached to your back you walked to the foot of their cribs. Sighing happily when she wrapped a loving arm around your waist. Quiet as you looked in awe at your babies,
“They’re so beautiful.” Abby hummed in agreement , reaching a long arm into Lila’s crib to stroke her cheek.
“I know,” she whispered as she repeated it with Céline, “They are the most beautiful princesses.” The two of you stood in silence, bodies swaying in domestic bliss. Abby’s cheek pressed against the side of your head, kissing you a few times while she held you tight. You traced patterns on her strong forearms, wanting to never have this moment end.
“Abby?” you whispered.“Hm?” You brought a hand up to cup her cheek, “What if I told you we’re expecting more?” Abby froze. Voice barely above a whisper as she responded.
“Are you pregnant again?” You nodded your head, her body tingling immediately. She tugged you closer into her arms, peppering kisses all down your neck.
“Yes, and what if I told you we might be having two more princesses?” That’s when her face slowly dropped in worry.
“You’re fucking with me, twins again?,” Abby questioned, moving her head back into the crook of your neck, “We’re having another set of gremlins.”
“I thought they were your little princesses?” You questioned her with a giggle, causing her to lift her head once more, glaring at you as she groaned.
“They are, but they’re a fucking handful. Can barely get enough alone time with you anymore, let alone fuck you whenever I want.”
“We’ll have my parents’ help, your dads help, we can even get a nanny!” You squeeze her cheeks, the pout slowly disappearing from her face.
“I know baby, even though they’re gremlins I’m still excited.” She whispers and that makes you smile.
“My little breeding whore, can’t stop giving me babies can you?” She teases, causing you to gasp at her vulgarity.
“ABBY!” You slap her chest, causing her to give you that playful smirk of hers.
“What, you are my little breeding wh…” You place your index finger against her soft lips before she can complete her sentence.
“We’re going to have four little ears around the house so you better fix your language Anderson.”
“Yes ma’am.”
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