Audrey Hepburn Gets A Haircut As Cameras Roll in The Nun's Story
“If she had been 10 years younger, she would have cried. But Audrey Hepburn, being a mature and modern young woman, didn’t even wince much when her hair was shorn for the final scenes in "The Nun’s Story.”
In her role of a Belgian girl who becomes a nursing nun, the hair cutting is part of the ritual as the girl prepares to don her habit as a novice. Director Fred Zinnemann scheduled the Warner Brothers picture so that the very last scene was with the shears.
And in order to make sure that the job was done properly and authentically, the director put Audrey’s personal hairdresser in the habit of a nun to do the cutting in the scene. After the scene, the hairdresser made a few additional trimmings and considerable arrangements, and Audrey emerged looking for all the world like a young woman with fashionable short hair.” May 27, 1959. The Milwaukee Journal. =
“I lost a four year growth of hair in four minutes.” Audrey Hepburn
I would just like to make the decendants fandom aware that these photo’s exist.
Ok, so a few weeks ago I went to this bookfair, and look what I found…
It’s almost like a Disney decendants yearbook.And as soon I saw it I was anxiously rooting through it to find anything I could conserning my ship. (aka, Jaylos.) and this is what I found.
Chad, is a homophope.
Now we can only assume that according to the weather and the end of the Isle of the Lost, our favorite Villian kids appeared in Aurodon half way through the school year meaning that this yearbook was published in their reality after mal stood up to her mom and Aurdrey decided to get along woth mal.
However, Audrey comments, obviously tye into her feelings in the begining instead of at the end, which brings forth the quetion…what?
Like, was this just a sloopy mistake that nobody bothored to think about or was Audrey lying about her feelings concerning Mal and her friends?
Next on the list.
Chad is still a jerk face.
Jane on the other hand, is startingt o come out of her shell (at least in writting) and posseses a whole lot of sass. Go Jane!
Along with pics from the movie and strange comments, the book also includes biographies of the students, although in this cass, the Villian’s Kid’s Bios look more like something they pulled out from their records when they were originally deciding if they should bring the villian kids over
I mean, Carlos still sounds like he’s scared of dogs, (which wasn’t the case at the end of the movie, so we have to assume this was written BEFORE the contents of the movie. His Bio also outlins how much he spends with Jay to share personal informationwith as well as how abusive and terrible living with Crullea is.
Speakign of Crullea, may I piont out that in 101 Dalmations 2, It was canoon that Cruellea was mentally insane she was seeing a phyciotrist that cut her off from buying furs forcing Cruella to find another outlook of spots-Painting which laster lead to her kidnapping the puppies all over again.
But serriously. The Isle of the lost,is the land of the leftovers, most kids over there go to bed hungrey and have never tasted sugar. Do you honestly belive that Aurodon would care about the mental stability of Cruella di Vil? NO. This means, that Carlos grew up with a mentally insane person OFF their medication, who grew more violent everyday. That’s harsh.
Jay’s Bio for the most part reflects Carlos’s in the fact it appears he wrote very soon after he arrived at aurodon noting that he’s “drooling from all the fine swag to lift”
However, his list of stuff he’s stolen says otherwise. As I’m sure many of you know in the second descendents book Return to the Isle of the lost, the gang had to go back to the isle to search for their parents’s magical items of evil. Carlos’s mother’s object was her Emerald ring that represented her pride, wealthy and power and shamed others.
Now, look back at Jay’s list…yep. he couldn’t have stolen the ring on the Isle becasue they wree hidden in the underground tunnels which means, he had to steal it from Carlos after the second book before they all decided to hand over their objects to the museam/council for safe keeping.
So, what was this? another mistake? an added piece of paper Jay inserted after the yearbok was publishe? Does anyone own their own year book or does everyone in the school just share one?
Moving on! Unforchunetly, as wonderfull as Jaylos is, I’m afraid I’m going to be breaking all you’re jaylos shipping hearts when I say this…Jaylos, is NOT going to be canon. EVER. Not in Descendants 2, not in another book, NEVER. and here’s why…
“Carlos is like a little brother to me.” -Jay
You read that right. Jay, is hitting us hard with the ‘I see you as a younger sibling’ cannon ball. Prepare to abandoned ship.
HOwever! WE all know that carlos might have a small crush on jay as according to The first Book Isle of the lost when Carlos said thought “Jay laughed again ,which made Carlos feel good, though he couldn’t explain why, not even to himself.” So congrats if you stayed on board, you are hearby saillig bnthe S.S. unrequited love ship.
Ok,Ok,Ok, sirriouly thou. Here’s what I don’t get. you guys see the las tpicture where arlos writes how he wsa scared of dogs and then Jane asks “Who’s afraid of dogs?” Like…???? WHAT THE HEACK JANE?!? HE LITTLEALY WORTE HIS NAME???? HOW ARE YOU CONFUSED???
idk, but that’s that. we also have another page with thier bromance grcing the pages. (take THAT chad.)
YEA, They’re familly! Which also more serrious because they grew up without strong relationships with their familly. And right now, I’m going to exclude the girls. Jay’s dad wouldn’t even LOOK at him, really. he wouldn’t, nothing Jay ever stole was EVER good enough. And Cruella? Sometimes, I doubt she even knew her own son’s name to be honest. But I guess she showed a little amout of compassion by forcing him to have “henchman” They didn’t have ANY realtionship with their parents. they barley spoke to their parents at all. For them to claim to be familly, is supper important.
Now, wait a minuite. It looks like Audrey has made another appearence in the book, but this time, her attitude toward the two boys is deffenetly different. It’s way more freindly and sounds more like her personality from the end of the movie/ the wicked world serries.
Well, that’s the end of that. Thanks for reading this long post!
The night was yet young and the room sparkled with jovial laughter and earnest conversation. It was so decidedly pleasant that not a soul noticed, tucked along the wall with her hands clasped around a glass of punch held at the level of her waist, Miss Emma Duval.
Though she would never show or tell a soul, parties and large events were nowhere near the vicinity of Emma’s mental list of enjoyable activities.
She made nice with the other eligible ladies, sipped her respectably-sized glass of punch, and danced when asked. When her mother introduced her to rich men twice her age she smiled, even offered a gloved hand and curtseyed when the occasion called for it.
There were a group of young women that Emma had tea with regularly, though the gossip and inane prattle at these small events never much interested her, either. All these women cared to discuss was the size of Miss Vaughn’s sleeves or the out-of-season flowers on Miss Hobbs’ bonnett. Or worse, the various theoretical virtues of the bachelors in their area.
Luckily, when it came to such an issue, Emma could feign ignorance on the grounds that her affections were already claimed. She had a suitor, a very respectably wealthy man under the age of 30 who came from a decent family and was, by all accounts, very handsome. He sent Emma flowers and gifts and whispered poems of love in her ear as they stood in the corner of the library together (under the watchful eye of a chaperone, of course). He’d spoken to Emma’s father about marriage, she knew this already, but she also knew he was waiting for her to express her love before stepping forward with a formal proposal.
And Emma didn’t love him.
Emma loved a great many things—her bed, a good book, the meadow a mile behind her home. But she didn’t love this man. She knew that she must, to provide for herself and her family, love some man someday. Who better than this man, who seemed a good suitor, by all accounts?
Emma knew that there could be none other. No other suitor could be found who would fit the deepest yearnings of her soul. Truth be told, she’d scarcely let herself imagine it at all, except late at night, tucked into bed with her hair rolled in rags, the fire dimmed low. She’d pillow her head in her arms and think of softness, of pale skin, black curls. The curve of a corseted waist, if she felt particularly daring (which wasn’t often). She never thought of a face. Such thoughts were inappropriate, and could only give rise to flights of fancy that would, ultimately, prove unsatisfying—the downfall of the careful calm she’d cultivated.
But here, sitting alone along the wall alone with a decent amount of punch missing from her glass, Emma’s eyes wandered perhaps a bit farther than she might let them on a normal evening. Such a thing was hardly a danger, because, as noted previously, not a soul noticed Miss Duval tucked and settled as she was in the shadows.
That is, not a soul but one.
Miss Audrey Jensen was a young lady of similar stage and status to Miss Duval, though she was unfortunately less accomplished than Emma at nearly every type of necessary social intercourse, despite her good-nature and pleasant appearance. At dances, she declined nearly every invitation she received and refused to initiate the expected pleasantries when introduced to eligible men.
But her eyes—sharp blue and quick, they seemed to follow Emma wherever she went, no matter how dark the corner or distant the room. Audrey’s eyes could find their way to Emma’s even across a crowded lawn, over a full picnicking spread, around umbrellas and prams and laughing children. The weight of such a gaze seemed heavier than Emma could bear, leaving her breath short and her spine prickling with nervous energy.
Despite their many instances of….contact, the two had actually never spoken beyond the murmured introduction of a mutual acquaintance. Emma knew nothing of who Audrey spent her time with, if anyone at all. And even if she did happen to desire a more intimate friendship with Miss Jensen, Emma could not think of a way to initiate such a thing. She could think of no other course of action than to simply continue to stoically endure the chills along her bare arms and feign obliviousness where the peculiarly heated gazes were concerned.
This night was no different. Emma resisted the urge to reach up and twist a stray curl, instead pulling her cup to her lips for another sip. Undoubtedly, more punch would only make the urge to daydream, or worse, to search the room to find Miss Jensen’s eyes, all the stronger, but the alternative was empty hands. Empty hands gave themselves to excessive fidgeting, and excessive fidgeting dampened her palms.
When Emma lowered her glass, she nearly dropped it. Standing directly in front of her, keen blue eyes and all, was Miss Jensen. Audrey couldn’t quite hide the entirety of the amused smile on her lips as Emma attempted to gather herself into a semblance of propriety, instead choosing to dip into a sort of halfway curtsey, inclining her head and lowering her gaze to Emma’s feet.
“I do believe we have had the pleasure of acquaintance, have we not?” Miss Jensen murmured, mirth dancing in her eyes as Emma continued to flounder for her poise in the midst of such an unexpected occurrence. A moment of silence stretched while Emma simply stared, her fingers tight around the stem of her glass.
Finally, she murmured, “We have, if I recall correctly.” The soft words allowed her to slip back into an air of something approximating decorum. She breathed easier, found courage enough to lift her eyes to Audrey’s.
“I assure you, Miss Duval, that I would not forget such an event so quickly. You are an accomplished lady, to be sure.” Audrey smiled, more genuine and pleasant than before, like warm sunshine despite her wintry pallor.
“You flatter me, Miss Jensen. I am sure I do not deserve so much as half the compliment you have bestowed.” Emma’s blush stained her cheeks and she looked past Audrey into the crowd of dancing figures, desperate for some form of mental reprieve. Audrey followed her gaze, turning and shifting to stand beside Emma and watching the dance with her.
“You have not danced this evening?” Audrey asked, though Emma knew that Audrey was well aware of the answer.
“I have not,” Emma whispered.
“Are none of the men to your liking this evening?” Audrey peered sideways, her gaze fixed on Emma’s face. A nervous sort of heat slithered its way into the bottom of Emma’s stomach.
She inhaled, paused and inhaled again twice before finally replying. “No.” When she finally gathered enough courage to look towards Audrey, their eyes met. The bow of Miss Jensen’s lips rested in a soft, half-smile, and for a moment, Emma wrapped her fingers tighter around the stem of her glass, certain that Audrey would reach out and touch her hand, though she couldn’t be quite sure why she was so certain.
The touch never came, and somehow, the absence of it burned worse than the touch itself would have.
“There will be…a picnic, given by Miss Maddox in a quaint corner of her estate.” Emma said, her fingers still tingling. “Will I see you there?”
“Miss Maddox does not care for my company, I’m afraid.”
“And if I said that I did?”
Audrey ducked her head, a small smile on her lips. “I might be obliged to humor you.”
She turned, moving to walk away, but before she did, Emma was startled to feel cool fingers against the inside of her elbow, just a whisper of sensation, and then it, and Miss Jensen were gone.
Pairings: Audrey Jensen
Warnings: Drowning, swearing
Request: “Can you do an Audrey imagine
where the reader gets stuck in the coffin instead of Zoe? Only this time they
get her in time? Thank you!” – anon
Once when I was a kid, I told my mom it was a teachers' work day so I wouldn't have to go to school but my mother's not an idiot so of course it didn't work, but when we got to school, we found it WAS a teachers' work day and that made me think I had superpowers so I started trying to kill classmates with my mind to confirm the theory.
You thought you had superpowers, so you immediately attempted to murder everyone.