most salone

Imagine you’re marrying Loki, and you’re looking for your wedding dress.  Before you could tell the salesgirl that you don’t want to spend too, too much money, your mother and your aunt open their big mouths and tell her that you have no need to look at price tags.

You’re horrified that they’ve done that, but they don’t understand why you feel that way.

“He’s a God, isn’t he?  Do you think he has to pinch pennies?!” your mother, who is always the picture of class, says at top volume, such that you can feel everyone in the salon looking at you.

Keep reading

By the way when I turned my album in, my mom cooked! This was just a few nights ago and I thought, this “seat at the table” thing has so many algorithms. It takes on so many different meanings and spaces. The reason why it was so important for the first time for anyone to hear an interview or to hear me talk about this record be in connection with my mother is because the album is also a tribute to both my mother and my father. I think that I feel extremely privileged that my parents went through all of the pain, trauma, and the weight of being two young Black people who came from not much at all and who were able to dream big and manifest it. When I think about this record, I think about my mother starting her hair salon in the garage of our home and the amount of countless hours that she spent on her feet to take it from there to a place with twenty-five employees and becoming one of the most popular, successful salons in Houston. I think about my father growing up extremely poor and in poverty and dreaming big enough to become who he is and taking a spare office in our house and turning it into a record label and a management company.

A Seat At The Table

Things your esthetician/stylist wishes they could tell you...

I’ve worked in a few different salons. I have fond memories of working with strong women, harsh chemicals, and tedious tasks. Don’t get me wrong here- the people working on your hands, feet, faces, hair and body parts LOVE THEIR WORK- but there are a few things that you should know, that will make their lives a little bit easier. Now that I’m not working in the industry, I have nothing to lose by writing, and sharing this with you. I hope that my former coworkers, some of the most amazing people I’ve ever known, will benefit from it. 

If you have a positive experience and like the person who does your service- book your next appointment with her before you leave the salon/spa. I cannot stress this enough. Many of the shifts in the salon industry are given based on appointments booked- so if this awesome stylist/esthetician that you just had doesn’t have pre-booked appointments- she also might not have work. I know you’re busy- and you don’t know what your schedule is going to look like in the next few weeks/months… but by prebooking (you can always change your appointment later) you could be ensuring that your esthetician has a job. Even the greatest, most experienced salon professionals depend on their repeat clients. Plus- you’ll only be able to blame yourself if you don’t pre-book and suddenly you can’t get your christmas-tree nail art done on Christmas eve because the ONLY girl who does nail art is totally booked. BE THE REPEAT GUEST!

If you make an appointment- show up for it. If you can’t make it- call to cancel. Often times, if you don’t show for a 2 hour hair appointment, it means that your stylist loses 2 hours of pay. If you call to cancel, your stylist will likely be able to find someone else to take your spot, and not lose money. I would hate to think that my actions directly impacted someone’s ability to pay their rent, but when you don’t come to your appointment, and you don’t give heads up, that’s exactly what can happen. Not to mention, if you make a habit of it, you could get blacklisted and not be able to get your favorite person to work on you next time. 

These people WILL do their best. You are literally a walking advertisement for these professionals. So, when you ask for something, they will do everything in their power to make it happen. HOWEVER- if you box-dye your hair black, and are expecting to leave the salon as a platinum blonde, you are likely to be disappointed. If you want a beautiful french manicure but you pick at your cuticles and bite your nails, you are likely to be disappointed. If you tweeze your eyebrows between visits, but want to look like Kim Kardashian, you are likely to be educated in the wonders of makeup (and possibly disappointed). 
Realistic expectations aren’t always easy- but they’ll make everybody’s life better. TRUST these stylists when they advise against something, and know that if an esthetician says that a french manicure might not turn out like you hope- she’s going to try her darndest to make it happen anyway.

Body hair needs to be long enough to lay flat, or it won’t get picked up by the wax. HAVING SAID THAT- if you your hair is long enough to curl around your finger… it’s too darn long. Hair that is too long WILL wax but it will hurt about 13,250,000x more than if the hair was the appropriate length. What’s that length? About as long as your pinky fingernail, or the eraser on a pencil. That’s the sweet spot. Too much longer, and it’s gonna hurt significantly more- too much shorter, and the hair won’t lift.  If your esthetican provides you with a wipe or cleansing option- use it. I don’t think I need to explain that one- just be considerate. If you have questions about waxing- ask them. DO NOT TAN! For goodness sake! This might sound like anti-cancer propaganda (but seriously- it’s 2015), but your skin can legitimately lift right off… leaving you AND your esthetican scarred for life. Don’t tweeze between appointments unless advised otherwise. There’s probably lots more- but those are the main ones, I think.

Some people like things to be done ‘Just Right’. Nothing wrong with that, folks. You like your french lines thick? Like your bangs SUPER-blunted? Want light pressure during your massage? GREAT- give your service provider a heads up. They might be great at chit-chat, and remembering how you like your coffee… but they’re not mind readers. They would MUCH rather (I promise) have you give explicit detail as to what you want, then have you ask them to redo their work after completion. I can verify that there is honestly nothing more frustrating than finishing a job to a point where you are satisfied and having your client say- “Oh… those french lines are really thin- could you make them thicker?”
If you notice that something isn’t quite what you like- tell them right away! 

Massage therapists and estheticians especially work in very close, closed-off quarters. If they’re rubbing your face/head/etc and you’re breathing your very thankful, but infected breath all over them… they’re going to get sick. They know it too, as they’re sitting there. You’re breathing through your mouth, or dripping from your nose all over the place- and they’re thinking *I can feel myself getting sick already*. 
They 100% can’t afford to be sick, I promise. So if you’re a walking illness factory- rebook for when you’re feeling better.

Tip with cash. Tip with cash. ALWAYS try to tip with cash! This doesn’t just apply to the salon environment- but every environment. Cash tips are easily accessible, and often can be spared the vigorous taxation process that debit/credit tips go through. Also- try to remember to bring a tip, even if you’re using a gift card. **If you’re not tipping, start tipping**

If you are late, for example, and are booked for a manicure.. and you request a french manicure, with extra glitter and a painting of the statue of liberty on your index finger, and your middle name spelled out in Hebrew on your thumb… your nail tech/esthetician will do their best to make it happen. IF, however, they can’t- it’s probably not their fault. There’s a good chance that she’s already running late for her next client, has had to skip/shorten her lunch, or was done her shift 20 minutes ago. Try hard to be patient and understanding. They will always try to make you happy- but some things just can’t be done.

There’s nothing more flattering than a client referral. Word of mouth is a salon professional’s best advertising. Spread the word. Post pics on instagram/facebook/tumblr… tell the world that YOUR STYLIST/NAIL TECH/MASSAGE THERAPIST/ESTHETICIAN is the best!

If your esthetician nips your cuticle accidentally or doesn’t quite capture the brow shape you want… or your hair stylist just can’t quite match the Jennifer Anniston picture you brought in (she’s probably crying about it in the staff room), it’s totally okay to let front desk know. It’s SO NOT OKAY to give front desk a third-degree about customer service, standards, business, or anything else. The front desk people who work in spas and salons have to deal with SO MUCH MORE than you will likely ever know- so just be patient and kind to them, and it’ll pay off.

If they’re giving you product recommendations, lifestyle tips, food recommendations, service recommendations… listen to them! They want what’s best for you, I SWEAR. If your nail tech says 'hand lotion would really help with your hangnails’- she means it. If your stylist says 'you really should try to come in for a cut more often, it would help your hair to grow longer’- she means it. If your esthetician says 'drink more water and your skin won’t be as flaky’- she means it. If your massage therapist says 'practice some deep breathing and stress relief techniques to help your tense shoulders’- she means it. You see what I’m getting at here? They don’t have a hidden motive. They really just want to see you be the best you can be! Listen to their advice, and ASK for recommendations if you need them.

12.) BE KIND
Okay, last one. This applies to everybody all the time, of course- but I’m speaking specifically about salon/spa professionals here. Think for a moment about the work they’re doing for you. Clipping your toenails because you just haven’t had time? Washing your hair for you and doing that amazing scalp-rub thing? Rubbing the stress-knots out of your butt-cheeks? Try not to drop lines like: “Ugh.. if I had to touch feet, I’d gag.” or “I don’t know you can put your hands on people’s bare skin like that.” or “I could never wash someone’s stinky head.” - That’s actually really insulting. These people have CHOSEN this career path, so respect it. These people do some incredible things for us. Let’s all be nice to them. 

Thanks for reading! Please share with your friends!

atratum  asked:

as always: miranda

Headcanon A: what I think realistically

Thomas had a thousand causes, and he believed in all of them passionately. He would restore Nassau, create a productive and prosperous colony out of chaos and violence, and he would do it without bloodshed, and without slave labor, and when Nassau was a pearl in the English crown and Thomas its governor he would use it as a bargaining chip for the brawl he was dying to have in Parliament and force the abolition of the slave trade in the Empire. He argued for humane treatment of the mad, for a thorough overhaul of the English workhouse, for war with the Spanish and a complete undoing of modern sodomy laws. 

Miranda organized his salons. She ordered the food, made certain there were adequate supplies of fine coffee and finer wine, comfortable seating for the men and women that Thomas needed to impress. She attended dinners at the houses of acquaintances she despised, in order that she might smile at the right man at the right moment, whisper something in his ear over piquet, and a week later that man would find himself agreeing to vote with Thomas, without ever meaning to. She acted as Thomas’s secretary, on occasion, when the clerk she hired for him had been sent home to eat and rest but Thomas was still on fire at three in the morning. She ordered him tea, raised her eyebrows at him until he drank it, and then helped him talk through his plan while copying out the letters he needed sent by special messenger as soon as the clock struck seven. 

“You are wonderfully loyal,” Lady Douglas told her after one of Thomas’s best and most persuasive evening salons, sipping the amber tokay Miranda had selected the day before. “We all know, Mrs. Hamilton, there must be no better helpmeet than yourself. But can you truly believe in your husband’s ideas?”  
Miranda was startled into a laugh. “But they are our ideas,” she said.  

Headcanon B: what I think is fucking hilarious

It took her six months to become a competent medic. Three years before she learned to bake bread without burning it. 

“You’ll master it,” James told her, choking down the blackened bread she flung onto the table with an unconvincing smile. “It just takes time.” 

James knew how to cook when she met him. How to pluck a chicken, how to season pork, how to expertly gut a fish and slice its white flesh off the bone. He was a favorite of the cook’s as a cabin boy on the Reliant, and apparently never forgot his lessons. He tried teaching her between voyages, but all her attempts came out hopeless, over-salted and under-cooked and singed at the edges. And then he’d leave again, so she never had time to properly learn.

“My table was once the envy of London, you know,” Miranda said in a dark way, as James faithfully dug into a meat pie she wouldn’t serve a dog. “I tripled my cook’s salary after stealing her from Lady Dalrymple.” 

“This isn’t half bad,” James insisted, taking a valiant swallow. He blanched a little in the aftermath, and she sighed, passed him the bottle of cheap grog he’d brought with him off the ship. 

“You’re very loyal,” she said with tired fondness, watching him gulp at the bottle. “For a black-hearted villain.” 

He put the bottle down at last. “But your black-hearted villain,” he said, and scrubbed at his mouth. 

Headcanon C: what is heart-crushing and awful but fun to inflict on friends

She once dreamed of finding Thomas in a field. 

It wasn’t prophecy. She worked hard on her land that summer, laboring until she was light on her feet, grimly determined that this miserable place would yield up something she could goddamn well use

It wasn’t at all surprising that the weeds and the hoe and the horrible heat and the relentless ache in her spine followed her into sleep. In the dream, she was working at a fresh-turned row of good black dirt, wheat growing tall around her, rustling in the wind, and her hoe struck at something in the dirt that echoed strangely in her hands. She dropped the hoe, and saw that there was a great pile of earth mounded in her way, almost like a new grave. She dropped to her knees and shoveled the earth with her hands. In this way she recovered Thomas, pink and alive, the dirt falling away from his well-loved face. He smiled at her, sat up from his grave, and wrapped her sun-burned aching self in his arms. 

“I was waiting for you,” he murmured into her hair, familiar and kind and again the person she loved most in the world.  “Waiting so long.” 

“I’m sorry,” she said, her throat hurting with sincerity. 

“Don’t be,” he said, and smiled Thomas’s smile. “You found me.” 

She woke up next to James, his body unbearably hot beside hers in the summer night around them, and jerked out of bed. She spent the rest of the night on the porch, looking out at her dark garden. 

Headcanon D: what would never work with canon but the canon is shit so I believe it anyway

“You will not promise him anything, James,” she says, her voice trembling, “until you can explain to me how you acquired that clock.”

“Mrs. Hamilton,” Peter says, and there is something in his voice that gives her pause, makes her heart pulse hard in her neck and wrists. “May I speak with you alone, for a moment.” 

James doesn’t want to let her go, but she persuades him. Promises she’ll be perfectly safe. 

In his study, Peter cuts off her accusation by handing her a letter. It’s in Thomas’s hand. 

“Look at the date,” Peter says. 

She looks at the date. She looks up at Peter in blank horror. 

“James has to pay for his sins,” Peter says softly. “But when he has–Miranda. I could bring him home to you.” 

“You’re lying,” she says, her voice thick with betrayal. All these years, she thought he was dead–that he had died alone, somewhere cold and dark. “This is a trick, your only hope I’ll forgive your treachery.” 

“Read the letter,” Peter says, drawing back to the door of the study. “Then decide.” 

It’s from Thomas. It’s Thomas’s signature, Thomas’s words, Thomas’s sentences that she thought she’d never see again. She clutches the letter like it’s a fucking lifeline, like it’s Thomas’s hand in hers at last, and tries to decide which husband to be faithful to. 

anonymous asked:

Today I walked into the hairdresser, slammed down a bad hand-drawn bit of circular gallifreyan and demanded she cut it into the side of my head. She agreed. I think she regretted this. Thank you for facilitating the most hilarious salon appointment I've ever had.

ANON :D That’s awesome! I’ve had a few people @ me on twitter showing they’ve had Gallifreyan shaved into their hair now, it’s amazing, I love it. I imagine pretty tricky to do too!

It’ll be like when people wear shirts with words in a language they don’t understand on them. Time Lords will think there’s some dangerous conspiracy happening on earth, what with all the people with ‘Bouncy castle’ and 'Okay Grandma’ written on them.

Keisha and Tommy One Shot! #PowerFanfic

“That tickles” a barely awake, extremely satisfied Tommy mumbled as she circled his nipple with the tip of her finger.
A lazy smile creeping across his face as he lay in her bed eyes still closed but clearly awake as she felt him slightly harden against her thing as she wrapped her smooth long brown leg over his muscular hairy one.

“Tell me something you like about me” looking at his slightly damp hair and rose tinted cheeks, he looked so innocent, almost peaceful, but I guess fucking all night would do that to a guy, she’d lost counts of the orgasms and positions they they’d got into, but now she was starting to wonder if that was the only reason why he came to see her.

He never came by when Cash was up, or had taken her to dinner, she was starting to feel like a booty call, which she wouldn’t mind if she wasn’t so terrified she was catching feelings for the motherfucker, or maybe it was just the good sick playing tricks on her, but she wanted to know what he thought of her.

“Did you hear me?” She pressed herself up to lay on his chest.

“ You see how I’m lying here with my eyes closed and shit…that means I’m sleep.”
Tommy grumbled, eyes still closed that stupid silly smirk on his face.

Keisha rolled her eyes and smacked his firm chest lightly.

“The fuck! That hurt!” Keisha had worked in a salon most her life, was mother to a 6 year old and was sure that Tommy was the most dramatic drama queen she had ever known.

“I barely touched you” rolling her eyes she flopped on to her back, coming to terms that they clearly weren’t going to have the conversation she wanted…needed.

“What you mad about now?” He rolled over, throwing an arm across her stomach and nuzzled her shoulder. “Huh? spill it, what I do now?” He continued, trying to lighten her mood.

Her mind was screaming, but she knew if she pressed, he’d pull away, Tommy didn’t spill his guts, he’d been a heartbreaker since he started hanging with Ghost since they were in school, before Ghost settled with Tasha, they were out there, Puerto Rican, Dominican, Black, White, the little Irish girls with the red hair, they smashed em all, and left their broken pieces in their wake.

At no point had any of them bar one, Tasha, managed to settle them, maybe it stemmed from Tommys mommy issues, but he would never let a bitch in, she didn’t think that was gonna change tonight, not even Big Red, managed to do that, and she had his nose wide open.

“Its cool, nevermind, let’s get some sleep.

She shit her eyes pretending to be over it all.

He was quiet for a minute, and she could feel him thinking, it was making her damn heart race.

” Your eyes" his deep voice heavy with Queens accent slowly cut through the dimly lit room, she pretended not to hear him at first, but curiosity got the better of her.

“That’s it?!” The annoyance in her voice at his less than adequate answer couldn’t be missed, and neither could his quiet laugh.

“Whadya mean that’s it, you asked me what I liked about you” he countered, his stupid smirk and big blues dancing with mischief.

“Well, like I said, nevermind, forget it ” with a huff she rolled onto her side giving him the shoulder.

The silence continued.

“Well at least that was the first thing I noticed, when I first saw you, wearing those tight as Jean shorts, that crop top with Bob Marley on it, with them beat up converse, I thought, she’s cute, I like her eyes.”

Keisha was awake now, wide awake, he was talking nearly 20 years ago, some Dominican kids thought a block party, it was the first time she saw him, didn’t think much of him, heard he was “That Tommy” everyone in the neighbourhood knew about the crazy white boy always with Jamie, but he just seemed pretty regular, she was in her thoughts as he continued, gently stroking her stomach and then her thigh as he continued to talk.

“But as time went on, I see they ain’t your best feature, they pretty as shit, but not the best part of you. You’re kind when you ain’t being a crazy loudmouth, yous a good friend, a great mother, smart business women, loyal, and you got heart, you special”. Keisha didn’t say anything for a second.

“I guess I like everything about you, man I dunno” Tommy shrugged and stopped talking.

Turning to face him, those hazel eyes of hers sparkling, she couldn’t help the smile creeping across her face.

“Thanks for telling me” with a kiss to his nose, she resumed her previous position on his chest.

“Keish, I know what you want from me, I ain’t gonna bullshit you and say I can give you a fairy tale and we gon’ be together forever or some shit, but Ima promise you something real, if you want it…it ain’t always gonna be perfect and pretty, but it can be ours, so whatchu sayin? You wanna be my girl or what?.”

Lakeisha chuckled, it wasn’t the most romantic gesture, but it was romantic coming from Tommy, his neck and cheeks slightly flushing from mild embarrassment of his declaration.

“Tommy I been wanting to be your girl” she replied with a giggle.

With a wink, and a kiss to her forehead, he slid between her legs.

“So I’m your man?” Lifting her leg he smoothly put it over his shoulder.

She breathlessly stroked at his chest from below him, the wetness already present between her thighs.

Barely above a whisper she spoke while he peppered her collarbone and neck with languid relaxed kisses.

“Hmmm…yeah.. you’re my man’ she moaned, as his hand found her glistening pearl of a clit.

“Say that shit again” he grunted as thrust into her deeply, and unapologetically.

Her stomach flopped and her chest heaved, as kept hitting that spot deep in her guts that gave her butterflies.

“Uhh … you’re my man” Tommy looked at her with nothing but smug primal pride.

He loved this time with her, when she was losing her shit, incoherently babbling and clawing at him.

He watched her, his dick growing even harder, she didn’t run from it anymore like the first time he hit, he was more than aware he broke all kinda stereotypes, and the first time he tried to get it in deep, let’s just say it took some time to adjust, didn’t help that Keisha was tighter than a fucking rat trap.

He took pride in the fact that his baby had found her stride, and could take the dick like a champ now.

It only spurred him on. He started to slam, delivering a punishing rhythm, the perfect blend of rough and sweet and watched unravel.

It wasn’t just the sex either, he liked just being with her, she wasn’t mixed deep in his world, and it was nice to have a different perspective a different view.

Having Keisha around relaxed him, with a deep kiss, he slid his tounge against hers as he gathered her other leg, and raised it over his shoulder, reaching down to cup her buttocks as he started to really fuck her with conviction, her moans and screams music to his ears.

Looking down he could see she was close.

“ You got something for me baby?” He groaned, coaxing the emerging orgasm from her, almost breathless at the beating he was putting on her pussy.

“Yes! Yes! Yes!” With a silent scream, she came with the thunder, stars dancing behind her eyelids as she squeezed them closed from her climax.

Tommy couldn’t hang on anymore, that was it, with a groan that grew from the pit of his stomach, he buried his head in her shoulder as he came fast long and hard within her.

They both stayed in that position while they caught their breath.

Tommy slowly came to put his head between her slightly damp breast, his favourite go to place once they were done and he was ready to sleep.

“So I guess I got myself a boyfriend huh?” Keisha smirked, gently stroking his hair.

She felt his shoulders shake as he chuckled.

“ Yeah you do…so don’t let me hear about any other motherfucker around my shit, coz I’ll kill em.” He groaned, and knowing Tommy he probably had a genuine frown to match.

She kinda liked it. He was jealous.

‘Believe me you ain’t got nothing to worry about, trust me …what do you always say to me?“ She continued to stroke his hair as she waited for his response.

"I got you..” his voice was sincere when he spoke.

“Exactly, well guess what?”


“I got you too…”

She felt him smile against her skin, them both enjoying their little moment, before he spoke again.

“Sooo…which one of us is telling Tasha?”

The End…

@sparklemichele I did it! 🙈🙈 I literally just knocked it out, so any and everyone excuse the typos. Hope you like it!

anonymous asked:

Do you have any tips on growing out blunt bangs without looking like a complete mess?

Nope! Growing out your bangs is the actual worst, you’re going to look crazy.
BUT, my advice to you is, get your bangs texturized at a salon (most bang trims are free or $5) they’ll grow out a lost smoother, and look less like you’re closing the blinds on your face, and two, 
don’t fall into temptation. You are going to want to cut them every single day, don’t do it. 

Henry the Eighth's Wives Ranked by Friendability: History Ranked 1 (REISSUED)

So, there is a reason I’m reissuing this. Sometimes I forget that people don’t automatically know what my intent is and what posts mean. Also, I forget that people actually read there. So, instead of going by personal opinions(which the title stated were a main basis) which made people upset, I’m going to go by a more objective Friendability scale.

1. Anne Boleyn. We don’t really know that much about her personality, but we know enough to say she’d be pretty fucking chill to hang with. Many people say she was a feminist. But, how can you be a feminist if that’s not a thing? One reason people think of her as the OG feminist queen is because she displays what we think of as traits of more modern feminist. Active in politics? Check. Charming? Check. Probably pretty damn funny? Check. Raised in French court with Marguerite de Navarre, who ran one of the most influential ladies’ intellectual salons of not just the time, but possibly ever? Fucking check. But this doesn’t mean that other wives weren’t as progressive. They just didn’t showcase their ideals to the world in as modern of ways as Anne did. That doesn’t make them any less feminist. You can fight me if you think so. Tied with…..

2. Anne of Cleves, aka “Wasn’t she the ugly one?” Nope. Don’t. Fucking. Go. There. With. Me. Some ugly ass obese motherfucker is gonna come out here, say “I like her not!”, and ruin her reputation for good? Not on my fucking watch. Anne didn’t push the boundaries, which is normally not a good thing, but in this case, it was exactly what needed to be done. She was like, “Hey, maybe I won’t push it with this dude who doesn’t like me all that much and literally had the last wife he didn’t like anymore killed.” You shouldn’t have to think like that, and the other wives didn’t force their own fate by being “too pushy”. Henry is just the worst. But whatever Anne did during her time as queen fucking worked. When Henry wanted a divorce, do you think she was fucking sad? No, bitch! It was probably more like, “Oh thank god, I’m not going to be fucking murdered by this grotesque asshole.” Due to her cooperation, she got a shit ton of money and land and was granted status as the king’s sister.

3. YOU THOUGHT I WAS DONE. YOU THOUGHT I WAS FUCKING DONE WITH ANNE OF CLEVES. YOU FUCKING THOUGHT. *clears throat* I digress. Anne was the only wife other than Katherine Parr to outlive Henry, and she lived a pretty dope, peaceful life. She kept up good relations with both Mary and Elizabeth. She even rode in the carriage with Elizabeth at Mary’s coronation. And when Mary, Catholic™, was told that Anne, Lutheran, Mary didn’t even check that shit out. And yes, this is the Mary that burned Protestants at the stake.(not meant as a jab at Mary, just gotta state the facts).

3. Katherine Parr. Pretty damn close to Anne of Cleves on the Common Sense-o-Meter. Also, mad props for being married to Henry at his oldest and most grotesque. She was supes into politics, even becoming regent while Henry was being a douche fighting in one of his precious lil wars. It was Katherine that pushed Henry to restore Mary and Elizabeth to the throne, and helped to educate Elizabeth and Edward. But Kathy Kat Kat did all of this without bein fuckin beheaded or divorced, and while anti-Protestant courtiers were spreadin rumors and shiz. She did outlive Henry, but only by one year. She’d be the chill, pacifist seeming friend that’s also low key liberal.

4. Katherine of Aragon. Hey, you’ve moved up since last time! Good for you. I didn’t give poor Katherine a fair shot. Maybe because I wrote the original late at night after reading an Anne Boleyn biography, which inevitably had some Katherine hate. And I’m still mad about the Chapuys shit, and don’t approve of the way she treated Anne. But, really, would you not be at least a little bit petty to your ex’s new wife? Katherine did some feminist shit, dude. She did it more quietly than Anne Boleyn, much like Katherine Parr, but she did it. Katherine was also regent for a time, and may I say she was pretty damn good. After the divorce, she stayed stuck in her ways with Anne and protestants, but hey, who wouldn’t? The fact that everybody loved her after the divorce may be in a small part due to some bad reports of Anne, but Katherine may have actually been the one to influence those reports(looking at u Chapuys). But she also held her own for pretty much all her life. No man is an island, but this woman is. Also, she kept faithful to Catholicism her whole life. Religious and feminist? Hell yes.

5.Katherine Howard. Poor, sweet, Katherine Howard. She deserved 0% of what happened to her, including being married to a repulsive old man at 17. If you have ever called Katherine Howard a whore fuck you. Fuck you and your entire fucking family bitch ass cunt. Sorry, got a lil out of hand there. Neither she nor her cousin deserved execution. We don’t really know much about her, but she would’ve been pretty fun at parties, and she definitely has more friend potential than….

6. Jane Seymour. Not the best. Subservient, product of a patriarchal society. Pretty uneducated, which isn’t her fault, but would probably make her less fun to talk to. “Bound to obey and serve.” Tiptoed around Henry so as not to disturb him for her whole queenship, but that’s totally understandable. I still love her. Bonus points for helping poor Mary out and for marrying a dude right after he murdered his wife, that’d have to be pretty scary. But hey, we can’t really say, can we? We can’t talk to these ladies. All we know is the man-made history we were given. Maybe she was a badass. But, alas, right now we are working with the history of “Men, and also their wives sometimes”.

So, there was my more objective assessment. Of course, Friendability is always sort of in the eye of the beholder. What are your thoughts? And is there anything I missed?

I long to be an 18th century Parisian salon hostess, a salonniérre, with a fondness for intelligent men, listening to them speak at length about philosophy, about politics, about art, about literature. To be deemed “fort jolie” even by the harshest of critics, with sparkling wit in my eyes and in my veins. I’d be fashionable and elegant, but unpretentious. I’d receive scented letters that simply said “Ce n'est plus une ardeur dans mes veines cachée: c'est Vénus tout entière à sa proie attachée” in elegant cursive every day. Who from? Nobody knows! My anonymous admirers are numerous.

I’d be the toast of the high society and wits and “philosophes” but still a good time girl; the cleverest, prettiest, kindest, most good hearted of salon hosts. In short, a girl who could quote Molière with the best of ‘em and a champion of equality, the equality of the sexes especially, to boot.

One of my history crushes is Emile Friant, who was a brilliant French painter from 1863-1932. He was born in Dieuze but had to flee when the Prussians invaded. His works were exhibited at the Paris Salon for most of his life and he even received the Legion of Honour. Also he’s really cute and he’s paintings are beautiful :D This is his work ‘Autoportrait’

Milady’s options

Only tangentially related to Milady, really, and triggered by something I saw in a post about how Milady’s only options as a 17th century woman would be menial jobs, prostitution or marriage. (But then, the show has been written by people who assume that “slave trader” was a reasonable option for a woman from Paris and that “assassin” was a job description on the payroll of the queen’s household, so.)

Even if Milady was a 17th century woman and not a fictional character written by 21st century writers in a very much non-17th century setting, she would have had plenty of choices what to do with her life. If the show had not been written by idiots, and if the writers had not been perpetuating the stereotype that “historical accuracy” means that women never had normal jobs and never contributed to societal and economic developments before the Suffragette movement rolled along.

Okay, so let’s say “menial jobs” are beneath Milady, such as seamstress, embroider, lace-maker, weaver (NB, not all of France is Paris; Tours was the centre of the silk industry, go to Tours, you stupid woman, and get a job there), milliner, shopkeeper, landlady of an inn/hotel, baker/confectioner, a merchantess running her own business (marry a merchant, off him after the wedding, you great big assassin, and inherit his business), etc. 

Let’s assume that Milady is intelligent (as most people appear to see her), ambitious, capable, and a quick learner. She was a count’s wife and the king’s mistress, so she must have some useful social and marketable skills. If there was a job she wanted, what should have stopped her?

Oh, right. Idiotic writing. And the idiotic belief that Women In The Past didn’t have jobs.

Copiously quoted from the “Encyclopedia of Women in the Renaissance”:

Despite the legacy of a misogyny deeply embedded in classical and medieval literature, fifteenth-century humanism provided a gateway for women into the literary and cultural mainstream. The new humanist curriculum introduced a roster of studies that appealed to both women and men. The new humanist curriculum produced women who published works in every literary genre, served unofficially as their husbands’ foreign ministers, acted as regents and coregents of their states, directed their children’s educations, practiced medicine, wrote treatises on every branch of knowledge, and became abbesses and nuns who taught in convent schools.

[…] In the cities and the courts, a few women worked as painters, miniaturists, composers, musicians, singers, and printers. Many such women worked in the ateliers and shops of their fathers. Other women plied their trades as artists and composers under the auspices of a convent.

What is this? Female professions that go beyond “wife”, “sex worker” or “assassin”? Who would’ve thought it!

Misogyny and sexism in the professional sphere does not mean that women didn’t have jobs. It means that their work was not as highly valued and highly paid as men’s, and that their contributions often weren’t recorded.

If menial jobs are beneath her, have some more glamorous ones:

Alchemist - Because there was no formal training in alchemy in universities, guilds, or colleges, women could access alchemical knowledge in the same way that most men did: by cobbling together an alchemical education from a few vernacular texts, by learning techniques from other practitioners, or perhaps by buying a recipe from another peddler of alchemical secrets. Women could also draw on their experience with traditional activities that utilized similar techniques, such as distilling water and cooking. Marie Meurdrac’s “Accessible and Easy Chemistry for Women” was published in 1666.

Nun (in a convent of her choice) – Convents provided protection for women, as well as an education, albeit limited, and they offered nuns a certain autonomy of action not possible for most women in the secular world. Their sphere of action was not limited to the private world of their community, since convent women lived off income from properties they owned, money they lent, and the sale of produce and handicrafts. Convent education and freedom from family responsibilities offered nuns the opportunity to study and to write. In many convents a recorder was appointed to keep account books or to document the history of their foundation and the events of their lives. […] Special convents were founded for reformed prostitutes and for poor girls in danger of turning to such a life. Beginning in the early sixteenth century new orders were founded that were dedicated to educating young women outside convent walls;

Writer – Women had an honored place in literary society by the end of the sixteenth century. A lineage of writers and translators, associated with virtuous household academies and represented as paragons of “learned virtue,” had proved to the intellectual elite that education made women not domestic liabilities but instead positive contributors to family honor and literary culture.

Salonnière (because women who ran salons were not habitually burnt at the stake OMG and Milady actually proved in-universe that she could move around in a salon environment) - In literary contexts, the term “salon” is most often associated with the women of the seventeenth and early eighteenth centuries in France, such as Catherine de Vivonne (1588–1665), the marquise de Rambouillet, renowned for her chambre bleue, her salon for the intellectuals and courtiers who frequented the Hôtel de Rambouillet, and Madeleine de Scudéry (1607–1701), famous for her samedis, or the Saturday meetings of her salon circle, and also author or the longest novel ever published (Artamène ou le Grand Cyrus).

Makeup, cosmetics, perfume maker - Although the craft of cosmetic enhancement was known to women from the ancient times, it is in the Renaissance that its use became increasingly widespread. Perfumes were an expensive and highly sought-after commodity; create a good perfume recipe and off you go.

Medical professional - Women made important contributions to medical practice and theory during the Renaissance in Europe. Their work encompassed a broad range of areas of medical expertise, from nutrition and hygiene to gynecology and obstetrics. Moreover, outside of the health care fields, which were seen as “women’s domain,” they also participated in spheres where both men and women worked as medical providers, such as in surgery and optometry.

In the early seventeenth century, the celebrated surgeon and midwife Maria Colinetia, the wife of a surgeon, traveled throughout Germany demonstrating procedures and is credited with the technique of removing iron splinters from the eye with a magnet. Mary Trye, who trained under her father, published in 1675 one of the first medical manuals for women, her “Medicatrix, or the Woman-Physician”.

In Catholic France, hospital governance transferred from ecclesiastical authorities to lay municipal administrators, but the everyday health care work of women continued to underpin medical services. In some towns, the nuns remained the nursing personnel, but in other cities they were replaced by laywomen. In France, the first licensing regulations were established for Parisian midwives in 1560. [Contraception methods included] medical techniques such as inserting vaginal pessaries of rue and ground lily root combined with castoreum, administering douches designed to cool the womb, and using barrier methods.

Pharmacist - A large number of laywomen were experts in the concoction of medical remedies. Like learned physicians, women used their medications to treat a wide variety of illnesses, including dysentery, ague, fevers, headaches, toothaches, and epilepsy.

Printer - For centuries, scholars have placed women at the margins of the early modern book industry, this in sharp contrast to their contributions as illuminators and scribes in late medieval manuscript production. Knowledge of women’s roles in the early book industry is hampered by scattered and incomplete sources. Chief among these are the books themselves. Even when she published a book, only rarely would a woman sign her name in the colophon.

A printer’s business - even that of a modest typographer - was not usually limited to one shop but rather included multiple shops (for the storage of supplies or purposes of accounting) attached to his place of residence. It was a printing house where business and family often overlapped. Thus, though she might be barred from the printing shop itself, the wife or daughter of a printer could learn other facets of his business, such as bookkeeping, binding books, and preparing paper for printing. Marry a printer, you great accomplished seductress, off him after the wedding, and inherit his business, sorted!

Theatre actress, manager, playwright - European women of the fifteenth through early seventeenth centuries participated in both public and private theatrical activities not only as audience members, but also as playwrights, translators, actresses, patrons, shareholders, employees of theaters, and leaders of acting troupes.

Records of professional French actresses began to appear at the end of the sixteenth century in conjunction with the famous actor Valleran le Conte and his acting troupe. By the latter part of the seventeenth century, Frenchwomen performed regularly both at court and in the public theaters. They also served as theater professionals of another kind: as costumers, ushers, and box office managers. More important, talented actresses earned a share or quarter share in companies and therefore gained a voice and a percentage of the profit.

Translator (Milady presumably speaks English) - The importance of translation in the Renaissance cannot be overestimated. It brought the newly discovered classical texts to a wider audience; it helped circulate the currents of religious debate throughout the Reformation and Counter-Reformation; and it made vernacular works available to a new readership.

Of the approximately one hundred early modern French women writers whose works we know, over 10 percent published translations of ancient or modern vernacular texts, either in manuscript or printed editions. […] Although they were excluded from the colleges, universities, and academies, where translation was a standard part of the curriculum, the works of these women translators reflect the various approaches to translation current in Renaissance France. Such women writers as Anne de Graville, Marie de Cotteblanche, Claudine Scève, Anne de Marquets, Marguerite de Cambis, and Marie de Romieu translated popular Italian and English works into French.

Post brought to you by my ongoing irritation with showrunners and audiences alike who persistently claim that the only jobs available to Women In The Past were “wife”, “domestic servant” or “fallen woman”. Not every “Past” is set in the Jane Austen pastoral English province or Dickensian Victorian London.

Post dedicated to Marie de Gournay (1565–1645), professional writer in Paris, moral philosopher, polemicist for the equality of women, novelist, philologist, and husbandless all her life.

Théodore Géricault’s Morgue Studies, 1819. 
Pioneering French Romantic artist Théodore Géricault is best known for painting The Raft of the Medusa. The over-life-sized artwork depicts the survivors of a real-life shipwreck attempting to escape the scene, signaling to a ship on the horizon. The incident itself was devastating (those set adrift resorted to cannibalism, and only 15 of 147 people on the raft made it). The accident became a public spectacle and scandal due to an inept captain who abandoned crew and passengers, and an attempted cover up by political officials. Hoping to launch his career, Géricault set about painting the aftermath of the accident with obsessive dedication. His studies for the final work were based on interviews with survivors, scale models of the raft, and trips to the morgue and hospitals. Human remains were often loaned to artists for anatomical study, and Géricault soon amassed a collection of putrid body parts to help inform his work. His neighbors didn’t take kindly to the smell. The final painting caused a controversy when it appeared at the 1819 Paris Salon. However, most of his studies of those rotting corpses remained in his studio until his death.

wanna have someone cut my dogs nails…
Called a salon 25 euro’s
called the animal doctor or w/e 20 euro’s
called the one salon most close by 8 euro’s. 
Guess where i made an appointment.. 

balencia  asked:

Sudden thought: Dolorosa! Deku + the Hairdresser!Bakugou headcanon = class 1A’s personal salon

Their most difficult case is Toru because they don’t know exactly what they’re working with. How do you do an invisible girl makeup?


Hugues Merle - Mary Magdalene in the Cave [1868] by Gandalf
Via Flickr:
The French academic painter Hugues Merle gained acclaim during his lifetime for his idealised depictions of family life and of historical and religious subjects. He was often associated with his friend and rival, William-Adolphe Bouguereau; in fact, their shared dealer, Paul Durand-Ruel, urged Bouguereau to add to his pictorial repertoire Merle’s interpretation of familial love, which had defined his most successful Salon entries during the 1840s through the 1960s. Whether imaging modern-day Madonnas with children, Susanna at her bath, or, as here, Mary Magdelene, Merle favoured emotion-filled, often seductive, facial expressions and languid bodies to connote drama and pathos. Indeed, his Mary Magdelene emerges as the enraptured captive of Christ’s love. 

 [Heritage Auctions - Oil on canvas, 45.1 x 59.7 cm]