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yesterdaysprint · 2 months

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The Handbook of the Man of Fashion, 1847

#1847 #1840s #victorian era #history #vintage #historic #etiquette #victorian #1840's #handbook #advice #weather #rude #rudeness #fashionable #upper class #high society

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lookingbackatfashionhistory · 7 months

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• Waistcoats.

Date: 1840's

Medium: Silk and velvet

#fashion history #history of fashion #fashion #19th century fashion #19th century #men's fashion #menswear #waistcoat #1840's

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vinceaddams · 2 years

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oh! It's September 10th! Happy 176th anniversary to Elias Howe's lock stitch sewing machine patent!

#history #sewing #sewing machines #19th century #1840's

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pretty-little-fools · 23 days

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#north and south #lesley-anne down #patrick swayze #80's #television #miniseries #mid 80's #1985 #1840's #victorian

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amandacanwrite · 6 months

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Little Witch ☽ The Hallowed Wilds ☾ Chapter One

POV ;; Aurelia ☽ 10 y.o.

Summary ;; Aurelia enjoys the typical day of a young witch protected by the Hallowed Wilds, drawn to the border of the forest where she meets an unexpected friend.

Warnings ;; mention of moths, other insects.

Author Note ;; Hello there! This is the first chapter of my original story called The Hallowed Wilds. It's a star-crossed romance infused with southern gothic horror elements. I'll be posting one chapter per week going forward. I already have 27 chapters written, and I'm hoping by the time I'm running out of chapters I'll be back to writing it again and nearly finished drafting it in totality. If you're interested in joining the taglist for this story, you can find the link for the sign up all the way at the bottom of the post. Last thing: I am someone who doesn't get triggered by much, but it's very important to me that anyone who reads my work doesn't become inadvertently triggered because of my writing. While these early chapters are quite light, this story does get dark at times. If you ever notice something I should have issued a content or trigger warning for, please reach out to me so that I can properly apologize to you and add the warning to the list. That all said, let's hop in!!

The wilds spoke to those that could hear it. Those whose ears were kissed by mother Eterna before their bodies took shape in the womb. She didn’t kiss just any soul, though. No, there was a payment to be exchanged and worth to be proven.

The Priestess had taught this to me since I could remember. This is how my coven lived. We served Mother Eterna, and in exchange, The Hallowed Wilds protected us.

Every day for the ten years I’d lived, I woke up, thanked Eterna for another day and set to work. The work was unique each day because The Priestess encouraged us all to listen to where The Wilds told us to go, for The Wilds had a will of its own and a plan for us.

On this day, The Wilds coaxed me to the River of Rye that separated our home from the village where the Deafened lived. I had no inkling what I would do when I got there, but I was certain that my task would become clear once I arrived, or maybe even somewhere along the way. That’s how it always worked. It was just my job to be quiet and listen for a whisper or wait for a gentle tug.

I dressed for the day in linen as white as starlight, and brushed through my hair with a comb carved from a deer’s antler, given freely by the stag for our needs, as all things were for us in the forest. I slipped on a light cloak made of moth’s silk and made my way out into the day.

“Aurelia, merry meet,” one of my sisters said to me.

I smiled as I passed her, turning to walk backwards so that I could see her as I made my way into the forests. The earth tingled against the soles of my bare feet, bringing with it a feeling of familiar comfort.

“Good morning, Cressida,” I said.

She was preparing more moth cocoons for spinning, it seemed. I wondered if her fingers tingled when she woke this morning, the way mine once had when I learned I was unsuited for the delicate work. “I’m excited to see what you do with the new silk sister.”

“And I’m eager to hear stories of your adventures when you return today,” she called back as disappeared into the trees, leaving the clearing and the rest of the coven behind.

I couldn’t see the River of Rye from where I stood, but I felt a golden thread tug me ever toward it. That thread reeled me in from the center of my chest. It wasn’t far from the clearing—maybe two or three miles—I could run the entire way if I wanted to.

I decided I did want to, in fact.

Somehow, the air in our ever-unchanging forest was different today. It sparkled and fizzled in an unfamiliar way. The sun shone through the boughs of the trees and cast new colors on the ground; rose and orange where there were typically shades of yellow and green. I set into a sprint, my hair flying behind me like the mane of a spirited mare.

Those new colors streaked together as I ran, turning into smears and smudges that hinted at shapes. It reminded me of Ophelia painting our huts with her beautiful, messy fingers��how the pigments came together to form images of flowers and the moon and the night sky.

This was my home, and I loved it as much as it loved me. I cradled it in my heart, as it had always cradled me. It was an even, happy exchange of energy between us—always given freely. Always.

My feet were wet and dirty when I finally made it to the River of Rye. Squirrels and bugs dances around my ankles, having joined me on my journey somewhere along the way. I stopped just at the opening into the wide-open space of that golden river and looked out at the village where The Deafened lived.

Winter had covered their roofs in thick blankets of snow. The world was so quiet with it — the sheets of ice absorbing most sounds that came from the village.

After a lifetime of spring, I wondered what the winter felt like. The Priestess said it was bitterly cold and brought death on its breath that choked the life out of the earth, but as I stared across the expanse of golden swaying rye, I wondered if there was more to it than that.

Surely a season that looked so beautiful and serene couldn’t be so awful. And with the winter brought times of generosity, even in The Wilds. We gave gifts at solstice and spread blessings even to the Deafened in exchange for the strange tools they would leave at the edge of the forest for us.

I wanted to touch that ice that fell in flurries from the sky, leave my hand print in it, and watch as more flurries filled in that imprint. The way snow erased any evidence that someone had passed through was fascinating to me. Tracks could be left in the mud of the forests—sometimes they would be there so long they would be preserved in stone. Snow was different—ever changing, ever making something new.

I thought perhaps that was my task today—experiencing the snow. But I didn’t feel the tug of that thread through the center of my heart as I stood there thinking about snow. No, it seemed I had made it to my destination for the day.

There was a strange cleaving—I couldn’t decide if I heard it or if I felt it. But with that cleaving came a powerful gust of wind that swirled my hair and bit at my nose and cheeks like needles. I’d never felt cold like that before. It stung and I could feel blood riding to my face to compensate for it.

I winced and backed away from the tree line, gently warming my face with my hands. That golden thread pulled me again, this time to the west.

I walked for a time, following the flow of the golden river, stepping over stones and twigs. My feet were silent as sleep as I walked. The Wilds told me to sneak—told me to hide. I wondered what manner of beast or creature I would encounter. I wondered what I would need to do. Wondered if I’d need to help them.

And then he was there, just beyond the massive trunk of an old oak tree.

I hid behind that tree as he spun slowly in place, staring up at the tree canopies that cast the ground in dappled light.

I had never seen a boy before.

I knew I should run away and tell The Priestess. She always told us that the Deafened were dangerous, especially the boys. But…

But he looked so enamored with The Wilds.

It filled me with a strange vicarious happiness to see him take in the forest—see the entrance to what I called my home. An unbidden smile curved my lips as he heaved an awed breath.

With his back to me, he took off his heavy coat with all those tedious buttons, and then took off his scarf. The Wilds were in a perpetual state of spring thanks to Mother Eterna, whose fertility never ebbed. The boy dressed for his village’s winter and must have gotten warm in the vernal heat of the forest.

He wore a billed cap on his head and hair the color of damp tree bark poked out at interesting angles. Flipping at the bill, dusting his nape and his ears. It looked so soft—like a rabbit’s fur or a squirrel’s tail. I wanted to touch it.

That desire drew me out of my hiding place, that golden thread tugging me closer, reeling me in and in and in. I could almost see it glittering in that small distance between us. I took a step toward him, then another, reaching out for him.

And then he turned and saw me.

We froze at the same time.

We were silent for a long time while our eyes devoured unfamiliar sights on each other. I traced constellations in the smattering of freckles on his tanned nose. His blue eyes flicked to my white hair, to my eyes and then to my linen dress. He flushed scarlet and looked pointedly away, seemingly put off or embarrassed by something.

When he broke his gaze he also broke the spell holding me there. After feeling frozen, I remembered who I was and what I was doing.

I turned and ran.

☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾☽☾

Join the Taglist Here.

#the hallowed wilds #witch book #halloween writing #writing community #writers on tumblr #my writing #authors #romantasy #book quotes #historical fantasy #southern horrror #gothic horror #1840's #appalachain gothic

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tweedlebat · 2 years

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Pattern for lace collar no. 1 is above, Lace collar no. 2 is below!

Today we have a big dump of victorian knitting patterns from 1846 by Mrs. G. J. Baynes!

Just saw that tumblr fixed the image issues and upped the max image amount and it's wonderful. Now I can do these two without having to break them up into parts!

The alt text for some reason doesn't let me backspace anymore to correct mistakes, so I have to use notepad to transcribe, but all in all it's much better haha.

an fyi for newbie knitters, make refers to increasing. so Make one is increase one.

CORRECTION: It was brought to my attention by @the-fibre-stuff that it's supposed to be yarn over/ yarn forward stitch and not the M1 or M1l Stitch. Big thanks to them for pointing that out! and you can see photos of my (failed) sampler attempts in my reply to them!

Bonus image:

#knitting #historical knitting #historical knitting patterns #victorian knitting #victorian #early victorian #1840's #1840's fashion #victorian knitting patterns #collars

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zorubark-art-account · 3 months

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a 1840s snake mollisher 😱😱????? What evil deeds will she commit??😁😁

#1840s fashion #1840s #kritaart #made with krita #drawn with krita #krita illustration #19th century #historical fashion #1840's #fashion history

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theshatterednotes · 1 year

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Swedish dramatist Alfhild Agrell

#Agrell #Alfhild Agrell #Swedish #Sweden #dramatist #playwright #Sverige #Svensk #1800's #1900's #1920's #author #novelist #writer #1849 #1840's #1923

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odk-2 · 1 year

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Franz Liszt/Herbert von Karajan/Berlin Philharmonic - Hungarian Rhapsody No 2 (Orchestral Version) (1968) Franz Liszt from: "Liszt: Les Preludes|Hungarian Rhapsody No.2 / Smetana: Vysehrad|Die Moldau" (LP)

Classical | Romantic | Orchestral

JukeHostUK (left click = play) (320kbps) (25MB) | (11:20)

Composer: Franz Liszt Conductor: Herbert von Karajan Orchestra: Berliner Philharmoniker

Produced by Hans Weber

Composed in 1847 Published (as a piano solo) in 1851

Recorded: @ Jesus-Christus-Kirche in (West) Berlin, (West) Germany on April 17, 1967

Album Released: 1968

Deutsche Grammophon

Herbert von Karajan | Franz Liszt

#Franz Liszt #Herbert von Karajan #Classical Music #Hungarian Rhapsody No 2 #Berlin Philharmonic #Romantic #Orchestral Version #1960's #1840's #1850's #Deutsche Grammophon

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melbmemories · 2 years

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Old Supreme Court cr of La Trobe and Russell Sts. built in 1842 on the present site of the City Court, Melbourne 1884 SLV

#supreme court #court #1840's #1880's

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sictransitgloriamvndi · 4 months

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#art #painting #oil on canvas #british art #the bible #biblical #bible story #the great flood #book of genesis #old testament #noah´s ark #epic #the deluge #exhibited 1840 #francis danby #tate museum

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forsapphics · 3 months

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The Armed Maiden (1840)

by Friedrich von Amerling

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heaveninawildflower · 1 year

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Spitalfields brocade dress (American, circa 1840).

Silk brocade and silk satin with cotton lining.

Image and text information courtesy MFA Boston.

#costume #textiles #1840's fashion #19th century fashion #silk dress

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daincrediblegg · 5 months

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Sincliair Saturday

#lady terror #egg’s oc’s #egg’s art #the terror #been experimenting with 1840’s bodices for my own project and here you have it #also this hairstyle I feel suits her so well better than a lot of fashion plates I’ve seen from then #but finally we are PERIOD AWARE AND PERIOD ACCURATE BABES

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verdraaidzaamheid · 5 months

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I made an 1840's style flower costume and wore it to a Victorian fancy dress ball. The design is pretty much literally taken over from this fashion plate, although I omitted the flowery sleeves (because of poor time management) and the 'necklace' (because I don't like the look of it). I'm so pleased with how it turned out. I planned to make the undergarments months in advance, but struggled so much with the corded petticoat and the corset (still didn't get it quite right in the end, but you can't really tell under the dress), that I only had six weeks to make the dress. I finished it the night before the event, as one does.

If it looks a bit frumpy in these pictures: well, I had to squeeze this dress into a tiny car first and then did some dancing before taking pictures... Still won second best place in the 'best dressed' competition that night :D

#victorian fancy dress #1840's fashion #1840's costume #costuming #historical costuming #historical sewing

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clove-pinks · 1 year

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Sharing @l832's tags on Paul Gavarni's 1840s men because so true bestie: Gavarni was a master of the Slinky Man.

1842 fashion plate by Gavarni (Yale University Art Gallery)

#paul gavarni #1840s #fashion plate #historical men's fashion #fashion #s l i n k #i know i've shared this picture before but i think everyone should look at it again #robe de chambre

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