taffeta gown

Gown (fourreau). France, c. 1910 silk, cotton, floss silk, metal thread.

Thanks to the designer Paul Poiret tubular dresses became fashionable from 1906. In French this slender silhouette is called fourreau, or sheath. The purple taffeta divides this dress into three parts and creates the illusion of short sleeves. All of this is typical for 1910, as are the voluminously rendered flowers. They are not embroidered flatly, but fashioned of tiny loops and knots.


Photo: Rijksmuseum Amsterdam. All rights reserved. 

washington capitals as prom dates

inspired by this video and composed with contributions from @hellokyochan and @notmissmarple

  • Braden Holtby is the world’s best prom date. You’re in your taffeta gown and you answer the door and there he is in a pinstripe suit and shades and a cowboy hat, and you know you’re going to have the best fucking time at prom
  • Nate Schmidt shows up in a bright pink suit and pink tie
  • Justin Williams is wearing the nicest suit he owns, which isn’ much, and he’s driving his mom’s beat up old car
  • Ovi, Kuzy and Orly all show up in a limo, halfway to wasted, hanging out the top
  • Tom Wilson shows up looking spiffy with a rose pinned to his lapel and takes the time to charm your parents, while Andre Burakovsky and his girlfriend shout at him from the car to hurry it up
  • Your mom pulls you aside to tell you she thinks this TJ Oshie seems like a nice boy, but he totally texted you earlier to give you the lowdown on all the booze he has stashed in the limo
  • Nicky is really awkward and fumbles at his cuffs a lot and looks down at the floor when he talks to you, but when you finally dance with him he’s the best dancer you’ve ever seen

  • Bonus: Ovi is the one who spiked the punch, but Nicky is the one who stood in front of the table so no one would see
  • Nicky totally bitched at Ovi about it, too
    • “Alex, no.” “ALEX, YES.”
    • “well FINE you SHOULDN’T but if you’re GOING TO I’m not going tto let you get in trouble”
    • “You’re gonna get caught.” // “If you stand here and don’t move, I don’t get caught” // “I hate you sometimes.” // “No, you don’t.”


Boned bodice with short puffed sleeve gathered into a wide band trimmed with ribbon and two rhinestone circles, open neck and back with rhinestone and bow details, full skirt with double scalloped hem, decorated with lace swags, medallions and floral sprays, lined in cream taffeta, back hook & eye closures

her vibrancy

A/N a short 400 word drabble for Conchi’s ( @meiosis2 ) BEAUTIFUL PIECE I LOVED the sparkle and the stars and it was so gorgeous… why do Fuhrer and First Lady pieces strike a cord with me? ANYWAY. 

She shimmers like the stars in the night sky.

He shifts, unable to keep the stoic, militaristic expression that was expected. Yet, Roy sees a wonder to behold in his First Lady.

She glides down the grand staircase and with each step, he tries not to hold in his breath. The violet-colored taffeta from her gown glimmers against the soft light, the shawl hanging loosely from the bends of her arms flutters with her descent. Her golden hair is formed into an intricate twist like a crown, exposing the length of her neck. It must have taken hours for her to prepare, but she makes it looks effortless, wearing her scars proudly.

In truth, any radiance emanating from him originated with her.

Every spark that cracked from his fingertips, every flame that illuminated his path, he owes it to her. His lighthouse that guides him in his own storm. The vibrant center in which he unabashedly orbits. His dazzling queen.

Once at his back, now by his side.

While nothing could trump the day of their small and unembellished wedding, a similar sense of pride swells where he can finally admire her. Without fear. Without hesitation. After years and years of dancing along the line of waning professionalism as they tirelessly worked towards their mutual goal, the evening arrived where he could simply be hers amongst a crowd that could no longer tear them apart.

If their guests murmured or the music of the orchestra played, sound fails to register through his ears. Someone makes a comment into his ear. The Fuhrer processes none of it as his senses are trained on her and the Hawk’s Eyes focuses on him.

He meets her at the bottom of the staircase and she is nervous, judging by the subtle twitch of her lip or the faint wavering of her chestnut eyes as it caught the light.

Riza gently places her hand on his and the room seems to empty. She fills his senses with the smell of rosewater and cordite as he brings her closer by the small of her back.

He leads in their practiced waltz and she steals glances to her sides, looking around. The nervous tick ever present. “Seems like I’ve made an impression.”

He smiles unbidden, watching her lips curl in return. “I didn’t realize anyone else was in this room.”

She relaxes. “You’re right, there’s no one else here.”


Maria Carolina of Austria, Queen of Naples and Sicily, died of a sudden stroke in Vienna on this day, September 8th, in 1814. She was 62 years old, and was the last surviving of the 16 children of Maria Theresa and Francis I.

She was in exile after Napoleon conquored Naples, and shortly before her death she wrote this letter to her daughter, Maria Cristina:

“Nothing on earth moves me any more; my fate was settled and decided the day that I was chased like a play-actress and thrust out of Sicily…. My life is ended in this world…. I am no longer interesting except to a few old women who never stir out of their own doors, but who come to see the last of the great Maria Theresa’s children. The Prater is in its lovely green and full of flowers; but nothings seems beautiful to me any longer.”

To quote the book In Destiny’s Hands: Five Tragic Rulers, Children of Maria Theresa by Justin C. Vovk:

The body of Queen Maria Carolina of Naples and Sicily, dressed in a black taffeta gown, veil, lace cap, and silver fabric shoes, was taken to lie in state before the funeral. The Baroness du Montet described her visit to the Queen’s memorial on Sept 10:

In the Queen’s last sleep there is a trace of sadness, of infinite weariness. Maria Carolina, who thought she would die in Naples, had her portrait set up on a tomb in the Capuchin convent in Vienna together with a tender and moving inscription, a gentle testimony of the poor lady’s desire to be buried near her august parents. A sensitive but vain precaution, since the Queen’s mortal remains have been buried on the spot.

Maria Carolina was indeed buried in the Imperial Crypt with her ancestors, in Tomb 107. After her death, Napoleon wrote to his brother Joseph saying “That woman knew how to think and act like a queen, while preserving her rights and her dignity….”.

Just nine months after her death, her husband was restored to the throne.


Paul Newman and Joanne Woodward at the 1958 Academy Awards for which Joanne won Best Actress for The Three Faces of Eve.

Whether out of nerves, perversity, or hardheaded independence, Joanne did all she could to talk down her chances of winning the Oscar.  “Deborah Kerr will win,” she announced on the red carpet of the Pantages Theater on Oscar night.  And that wasn’t her most self-deprecating gesture.  She revealed that the green taffeta gown she was wearing at the big show had been made not by a famed designer but rather by her: “I spent a hundred dollars on the material, designed the dress, and worked on it for two weeks."  The gesture shocked Joan Crawford, for whom Joanne had been named.  "Joanne Woodward is setting the cause of Hollywood glamor back twenty years by making her own clothes,” she fumed.  “I’m almost as proud of that dress as I am my Oscar,” Joanne replied when she was told of the comments.  Eight years later she presented the screenwriting Oscars while dressed in an expensive gown designed by William Travilla and declared, “I hope that it makes Joan Crawford happy."  It was Joanne’s night, though, despite her crimes against fashion. 

Warming Her Pearls

by Carol Ann Duffy

for Judith Radstone

Next to my own skin, her pearls. My mistress
bids me wear them, warm them, until evening
when I’ll brush her hair. At six, I place them
round her cool, white throat. All day I think of her,

resting in the Yellow Room, contemplating silk
or taffeta, which gown tonight? She fans herself
whilst I work willingly, my slow heat entering
each pearl. Slack on my neck, her rope.

She’s beautiful. I dream about her
in my attic bed; picture her dancing
with tall men, puzzled by my faint, persistent scent
beneath her French perfume, her milky stones.

I dust her shoulders with a rabbit’s foot,
watch the soft blush seep through her skin
like an indolent sigh. In her looking-glass
my red lips part as though I want to speak.

Full moon. Her carriage brings her home. I see
her every movement in my head… Undressing,
taking off her jewels, her slim hand reaching
for the case, slipping naked into bed, the way

she always does… And I lie here awake,
knowing the pearls are cooling even now
in the room where my mistress sleeps. All night
I feel their absence and I burn.

anonymous asked:

I would like to try to make an Eliza Schuyler dress and was wondering if there is any pattern that you used for yours. Can you give me any advice on fabrics that you used also?

Hi there! I didn’t use a commercial pattern, but I did use the bodice pattern from the book Everyday Dress of Rural America, 1783-1800 as a reference.  For the skirt/petticoat, I used several online tutorials for 18th century petticoats (link, link for two I found particularly helpful).   I also found Serena Dyer’s website very helpful for a step-by-step breakdown of period-correct dress-making methods.  This site was a great resource for making the stays.  You can also purchase 18th century stay-making kits online.  

If you are going for stage-accurate rather than period-correct, however, these resources may not necessarily be suitable.  For instance, the on-stage gown closes in the back with an invisible zipper and the bodice and skirt are separate.  

One commercial pattern that I think would be quite suitable (although I cannot really vouch for it as I haven’t used it) is the set of recently released American Duchess Simplicity patterns.  There is a pattern for undergarments and another for a gown.  

As for fabric, I used silk taffeta for the gown and lined the bodice with linen.  The shift and petticoat are made with the same linen.  The stays are a heavier linen lined with cotton duck.  Hope this helps! 


“Teen Queen: The Style of Marie Antoinette”

‘Marie Antoinette’ played by Kirsten Dunst in Sofia Coppola’s film, dressed in special creations by Balenciaga, Chanel, Dior, Rochas, Oscar de la Renta and Alexander McQueen. Costumes by Milena Canonero. Photgraphed by Annie Leibovitz and styled by fashion editor Grace Coddington for American Vogue, September 2006 issue.


Summary: (USUK) Arthur questions his choices in life when he ends up in a big, poofy, wedding dress.

Warnings: Cross-dressing ; traditional omegaverse

A/N: I got no excuse. None. I just wanted to write Arthur in a wedding dress and Alfred in a matching tux. ¯\ _(ツ)_/¯  I am literally posting this to prove a point to Blue aha. I told ya it wasn’t anything lol to the rest of you I’m sorry this wasn’t supposed to see the light of day, blame Blue. 

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