An embroidered lawn robe à l'Anglaise, circa 1770-80,
Delicately embroidered in chain stitch with stripes and sprigs of pinks, convolvulus, dog roses, honeysuckle, tied with pink bows, closed-front bodice panels with drawstring to neck, the sleeves with shaped elbows adorned with ruffles; together with a pink taffeta petticoat, 18th century
A good ribbon-worked black taffeta robe de style, probably Lanvin, circa 1926,
Black silk taffeta adorned with embroidered ribbons in shades of green and pink, with gold vermicular embroidery outlined in black cord, the skirt gently gathered over the hips, nude chiffon modesty panel to the front, large tulle bow to one hip, scalloped hem over tulle edging
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.”
cream silk chiffon with Brussels lace overlay having boned bodice and
collar, full chiffon sleeve with lace cap, tulle cuff and satin bows,
pleated satin cummerbund with jeweled buckle, full trained skirt. Shown
without silk taffeta underskirt. Petersham label: Henriette Favre Rue de
So I’m the oldest and the wittiest and the gossip in New York City is insidious
I am so happy to share my Angelica Schuyler cosplay with you all!! It’s historically accurate and as close to stage accurate as I could get. I used ten yards of a beautiful two-toned faux taffeta for the fashion fabric, but there’s also about seven undergarments (and pockets!) underneath to give it structure. The bodice is steel boned, with lace and chiffon trim around the whole thing.
This gown took 225 hours to complete; it’s by far the best thing I’ve ever made and I’m so, so proud of it.
I’d like to say something about it, because she has been very helpful to me in a way it is difficult to explain and I want to represent her as she has done me.
The book is a lovely teenage romance and a story of coming out, but not in the way you would expect. “Cinderella Boy” is more than the fairytale. It is a strategic map for withstanding the kind of hatred and institutionalized homophobia that exists in this country. The running theme within it is that of marksmanship and Sun Tsu’s Art of War. It is an emotional love story, with a spine, to me reading like a John Hughes movie put on by a cast of fighting Monks, who sometimes prefer wearing taffeta.
If you identify as non-binary, gender fluid, transgendered, agendered, or androgynous, I recommend it to you. If you were bullied as a child for your sexuality or gender identity, I recommend it. If you need something to give you a hopeful slap on the back, I recommend it.
Please do go to the Tapas app and see about reading Cinderella Boy by Kristina Meister
“I just don’t see why this is necessary,” Castiel said,
fussing with the lace-trimmed skirt of the champagne white taffeta dress he was
currently wearing. “Or why it couldn’t be you or Sam.”
“I told you, Cas.” Giggle. “The bridal store didn’t carry
anything off the rack in mine or Sam’s size.” Snort. “And you know we’ve tried
to draw the ghost out in other ways but they didn’t take.” Snicker. “Sorry
buddy.” Chortle. “I promise I’ll be the bait next time.”
“I would appreciate it if you tried a little bit harder to
contain your laughter.” The petulant tone in Castiel’s voice was the last
straw, and Dean burst out in laughter.
“Come on Dean, not cool,” Sam said, throwing a sympathetic
look at Castiel. The effect was somewhat marred by the fact his lips were
twitching as he tried to contain his mirth.
“Just look at him,” Dean managed to say in between gasps and
wheezes. “Oh fuck my stomach hurts.” He tried to catch his breath.
“Serves you right,” Castiel grumbled, thoroughly unamused.
“Let’s just get this over with. Sam, my veil, please.” He held out his hand for
the white accessory.
Sam gave it to him, and then went over to his laptop to
check if the hidden cameras they’d placed inside the chapel were running. They
both ignored a still recovering Dean, who was wiping the tears of laughter from
“Okay, all the cameras look fine, and it’s-“ he checked his
watch. “Ten to nine. Showtime, Cas. Good luck.”
“Yeah Cas,” Dean said, clapping the ex-angel on the back,
“I’m sure it’ll go fine. You’re the prettiest bride I’ve ever seen – dude won’t
know what hit him.”
Oh if looks could kill, and if Castiel still had his grace,
Dean would be a small pile of dust on the floor. Or possibly sprayed into
little pieces all across the walls and ceiling.
“I will remember this, Dean. And I have a very long memory.”
With that, Castiel stalked off without another word.
Ganking the ghost turned out to be a piece of cake. It had
fallen for Castiel’s disguise easily and had revealed the location of the
special object that kept it tethered to the human world (a brooch of a blue
delphinium flower, obviously meant to be the ghost’s “something blue”). The
brooch was swiftly torched by Sam, vanquishing the ghost before it could really
cause much damage to any of them.
Afterwards, the three returned to the motel they were
staying in (the only one in the small town), ready to call it a night.
Castiel’s dress was torn at the right sleeve and caked with dirt at the hem,
but otherwise had it held up remarkably well. Good quality fabric, Dean found
Their rooms (they had enough money now to get three singles)
were at the end of the hallway past the check-in desk. When they entered, the
girl at the registration desk - ‘Jeanine’, her nametag read - actually squealed, clapping her hands and looking
“There you are! You look beautiful! How was the wedding?”
The three were stunned in the face of so much enthusiasm.
“Um…” Dean stammered. “Good, it was…good.” He realized (too
late) that he’d been holding Castiel’s arm, and abruptly let go.
“Brilliant! We haven’t had a wedding in town for ages! So
good you were able to find a dress in Maggie’s store,” Jeanine continued,
oblivious to their bewilderment.
“Yeah, um, great. Thanks. Look, we’re very tired, so we’re
just gonna…” Dean gestured towards their rooms, and the three started moving
again. But Jeanine jumped in front of them, holding out a hand to stop them.
“Wait! We’ve got a surprise for you!”
Dean did not like
the sound of that. In their line of work, surprises usually had teeth or claws
and tended to be quite painful. It had given him a healthy dislike of them.
“Our owners just love
a good romance, and y’all looked so cute picking out a dress they wanted to do
something special for you,” Jeanine continued, her eyes sparkling. “And of
course we wanna show the world that we are 100% gay friendly and we support all
forms of love, so if y’all could leave a good Yelp review, that’d be awesome!”
Dean gave Sam a look as if to say, ‘is this going where I
think it’s going?’
“So we’ve moved the two of you-“ she gestured towards Dean
and Castiel, ”to the bridal suite - free of charge of course! Surprise!”
If Sam didn’t value his life as much as he did, he would
have commented on the way the blushes on Dean and Castiel’s face matched
perfectly. As it was, he slapped his hand across his mouth to stop the giggles
didn’t have to do that,” Dean managed to choke out. His face was rapidly
reaching dangerous levels of purple.
“It’s just that we’ve, uh, decided to wait, to, uh, you
know.” Dean’s hands flailed uselessly. He couldn’t even finish that sentence -
it would end him.
“Oh!” Jeanine’s face fell and she looked contrite. “I’m so
sorry, we had no idea! It’s just that we
already rented out the two other rooms to new guests, and now we’re completely
full…” Her eyes were downcast and she looked almost close to tears.
Dean just wanted this whole moment to be over so he could
start erasing it from his memory. Which was the only reason (thank-you-very-much) he spoke up and said, “Look, it’s
fine, we’ll somehow manage to keep our hands off each other.” He even managed a
smile at Jeanine and someone should
give him a medal for that. “Where is it?”
“Wonderful!” As if it had never left, the smile was back as
Jeanine produced a key from her pocket. “It’s just down that hall, the last
door on your left.” She pointed towards the hall on the right of the hall Sam
would be sleeping in.
“C’mon Cas let’s go,” Dean grumbled. He grabbed the key from
Jeanine’s hand and started walking in the direction she’d pointed at.
“Dean.” Castiel spoke up for the first time this entire
disaster of a conversation, which made Dean realize he hadn’t even seen the his
reaction to all this yet. When he looked at Cas (expecting to see a really
pissed off, glowering ex-angel) he only saw faint embarrassment and…shyness?
“What about our bags?” And that was it. No protestation, no
comment on the current situation, nothing. Just Castiel being his practical
“Oh, we already put them in the room; hope you don’t mind.”
Jeanine beamed at them, and behind her, Sam gave them both a thumbs up. Dean
nodded stiffly, grabbed Castiel’s elbow and started dragging him towards the
room. The sooner he could get away from
Sam’s unbearably smug face and Jeanine’s chipper attitude, the better. He’d get
his revenge on Sam later.
Walking into the room, the first thing he noticed was that
it…wasn’t that bad, actually. No heart-shaped bed, no pink wallpaper or pillows
or anything. The color scheme was centered on soft blue tones mixed with a
splash of aquamarine in the accessories. It was tastefully decorated, and the
bed looked like it might have a memory foam mattress, a theory which Dan could
not wait to test out.
He let out a sigh of relief, feeling calmer already. “At
least it doesn’t look like a bridal magazine threw up on it,” he said, earning
a grimace from Castiel for his colorful choice of words.
Dean gestured towards the bathroom. “Go ahead and shower
first. Out of all of us, the ghost got you the worst.” His eyes narrowed.
“You’re okay, right? Nothing more than a few scrapes and bruises?”
“Yes, Dean, I’m fine.” Castiel’s tone was fond, and he
looked slightly exasperated yet pleased by Dean’s concern. He didn’t move
towards the bathroom, though. Just turned around and put his back to Dean.
“You’ll need to help me with this dress,” he said. “It was
not made to be taken off by oneself.”
Dean suspected Castiel didn’t realize quite how true that
was, and he suddenly felt nervous. But he could hardly refuse to help him, so
he walked up to Castiel and reached for the row of buttons that started at
Castiel’s upper back.
The buttons were small and there were many of them. The
taffeta was slightly slippery, and Dean was not used to such a delicate task,
so it took him longer than it probably should have. Inch by inch, Castiel’s
tanned skin was exposed, revealing just how well he kept his body in shape.
Dean rarely had the chance to see Castiel like this, and he couldn’t help but
let his hands linger here and there, brushing over the lace trimmings and
ghosting over the skin beneath.
Dean was so focused on his task, he’d failed to notice the
silence between them. As he took care of the last button and slowly released the
material, he became aware of the change in the atmosphere. It was heavier than
“There, all done.” The words came out soft and husky. Dean
took a step back and could not stop himself from admiring the view. He was only
human, after all, and he’d dare anyone to look away from Castiel grabbing the
fabric with both hands and pushing it down over his hips, shaking them a little to help the dress slide
A soft moan escaped Dean’s lips as those thick, muscled
thighs were revealed. He longed to run his hands over them, to caress, squeeze,
A low chuckle made him snap his eyes back up to meet with
Castiel’s, who was casting a knowing look over his shoulder at him. No use in
trying to hide what he’d been looking at, then.
“See anything you like?”
Dean could never resist a challenge like that. Whatever
could be said about him, he always
gave as good as he got.
He wasn’t into the dress though, not really; it wasn’t even
the right size. But the quiet confidence with which Castiel wore the garment,
the way the fabric had felt under Dean’s touch and the way Castiel’s hands had
smoothed over it…Dean was a tactile man, always had been, and it was
impossible for him to stay unaffected in the face of such sensuality.
“Then touch me,” Castiel said simply, turning around to face
him and opening his arms in an invitation Dean was powerless to resist. Two
paces forward brought him into Castiel’s personal space, stepping on the dress
still pooled at Castiel’s feet.
He raised his hand but stopped just short of touching
Castiel, suddenly unsure again. They stood there, frozen, for five, six, seven
As always, Castiel saved him from his indecision. He pulled
Dean against him, snaked an arm around his waist, and met his lips in a slow,
deep kiss. Dan could only whimper in response to the way Castiel so
effortlessly took control of the kiss. Castiel’s arm around him tightened at
the sound, and his hand came up to cup Dean’s cheek.
This was so very different from the few stolen kisses they’d
shared in the heat of the moment after a hunt in the last few weeks. They hadn’t
talked about it at all, and of course Sam had no idea yet. Honestly, Dean sometimes
felt that they had no idea what they were doing.
But in this moment, Dean felt them teetering on the edge of
something new, something more. And though he was ashamed to admit it – never would
out loud - it scared him.
“Cas…We can’t….” he moaned brokenly against Castiel’s lips.
Castiel broke away and shushed him with a finger, gently
rubbing it over his reddened lips.
“I know. Not here, not now. It isn’t the time.” He gave Dean
one more lingering kiss. “Will you just take me to bed?” Dean shuddered at the
tenderness in his voice and the naked longing for simple affection in his eyes.
“We still need that shower, Cas,” he murmured, burying his
head in Castiel’s neck.
“Quickly, then.” Castiel laughed softly, squeezing Dean one
last time before letting him go.
Later, when they lay in bed together with Dean’s back to
Castiel’s chest, Dean was softly stroking the arm that Castiel had slung across
his waist, quietly enjoying the closeness and the feeling of security between
“You lied to Jeanine, you know,” Cas mumbled.
“Huh?” Dean murmured sleepily.
“We didn’t manage to keep our hands off each other.” Dean
could hear the satisfaction in Castiel’s voice. Warmth suffused his entire
body, and he smiled softly, although Castiel could not see his expression.
“Love you too, Dean.”
Dean couldn’t say it back, not yet, but it didn’t make him
anxious. They had time - Castiel understood him, and he was going nowhere.