Mike Driver
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Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
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styofa doing anything
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blake kathryn
JVL
Kaledo Art
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2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
ojovivo
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
KIROKAZE
oozey mess
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
will byers stan first human second
祝日 / Permanent Vacation
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@lisaonatree
ive always had the diva’s sensibility but as a child i lacked the language to understand when i was experiencing aesthetic distaste so for a while i developed what can only be described as a fear response to certain saturated shades of purple
Concrete hot dog of dogs I painted at my job! It’s about the size of an actual hot dog.
📍Library of Alexandria, Egypt 🇪🇬
every year after you turn 17 you get further away from being the age of the dancing queen and that’s my least favorite thing about growing up
exCUSE ME. DOES THIS LOOK LIKE THE FACE OF A WOMAN WHO’S CONCERNED ABOUT BEING TOO OLD TO BE THE DANCING QUEEN??
Fuck your age, put on your high heeled boots and a pair of overalls and do Meryl Streep proud.
You are the dancing queen.
Hot take: Seventeen is the age at which you get crowned the Dancing Queen.
Being older than that isn’t years away from being the Dancing Queen, it’s how many years your reign has lasted.
REBLOGGING FOR THAT LAST PIECE OF INSIGHT. BITCH YOU
ARE
THE DANCING QUEEN
“Only seventeen” implies that seventeen is an unusually precocious age at which to assume the title of Dancing Queen, which opens up the possibility of anyone above that age being eligible and possibly even more likely to qualify.
Dancing Queen was first performed for the pre-wedding celebrations of King Carl XVI of Sweden, whose then-fiancee was 33 at the time. So not only was the original Dancing Queen not seventeen, she’s currently 81.
spring whale shark 🌷
disliking your father for personality traits you have yourself but keep firmly repressed
Fyodor Dostoevsky, Poor People
this tweet is on par with “omg you people can’t do anything” in terms of how it changed the way i think and move about the world because now when i tell people i’ve only had my doppio espresso i hear this tweet word for word
The only thing worse than your parents embarrassing you is your parents totally one-upping you
#goth #gothgoth
She wrote 666 with her bangs……
You’re in luck! I, @khaleesi, read so much Gothic romance my senior year of college. “I want to do my thesis on it!” I said, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and still believing that academia didn’t frown strongly upon anything amusing. “No one will take you seriously!” said my advisor. “Oh,” I said, and did Restoration drama instead because I am nothing if not a rebel. “If anyone asks just claim you studied the Romantics,” sighed my advisor.
BUT I READ THEM ALL (I.E. A LOT OF THEM) ANYWAY AND IT’S COMING IN HANDY NOW ISN’T IT, PROFESSOR?! HAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!*
*my thesis advisor was a delightful man and I love him very much and he was great
Gothic romance as a genre is more commonly referred to just as “Gothic literature,” but that’s boring imo and doesn’t really get at the crux of the thing, which is CONSUMPTIVE DRAMATICS IN LOVE.
Ultimately, Gothic romance stories are about the human mind – what’s hidden, what lurks in dreams and the subconscious, and what version of ourselves we are when we are quite alone.
There are several important tropes that crop up again and again in Gothic romance (though bear in mind some have all of these, some only have a couple, and some may have combined them):
A creepy enormous (sometimes derelict) castle. This is the primary setting of all good Gothic romance. Usually, it symbolizes the subconscious mind, though whether it’s the subconscious mind of the heroine, the villain, or a general commentary on the human subconscious mind depends on the book you’re reading.
Our Heroine, a distressed woman who is all alone: She will probably be sobbing, terrified, screaming, hiding, or shaken, and sometimes all at once! She has been abandoned – intentionally or not – by her protector(s). She might be an orphan, or she might have been brought to the creepy enormous (sometimes derelict) castle by a protector who then goes “I’m going to get help, stay here!” and is summarily murdered. Or she might have been brought there by her husband, who turns out to be a traumatized abuse victim/have his former wife locked in the attic/may or may not mean her harm; then, the abandonment happens because she expected a certain person and got quite another. If you want to put a fine point on it, she is abandoned by her sense of peace and well-being.
She usually won’t be in distress for the entire story – Gothic romance heroines usually get their shit together and figure out what’s going on, take a stand, go down into the basement and turn all the lights on, or get flung off a cliff by a man who is literally Satan. Hey, can’t win ‘em all.
Oppressive, tyrannical male. Sometimes her father or guardian (not necessarily her protector! different!), sometimes the owner of the creepy enormous (sometimes derelict) castle, who has authority over the heroine in some way and is trying to force her to do something intolerable, like marry him or commit a crime.
White Knight/a dude who is not as oppressive or tyrannical as the other dude. The White Knight is not as common as you might think, but I’m including him anyway because he’s fun. Also, he’s exactly what he sounds like – someone who comes along to rescue Our Heroine. Sometimes the two men are conflated and become one character, a White Knight with a terrible secret.
Creepy and/or skeletal and/or murderous servant. Primary job is to skulk around with a massive key ring or other symbol of authority over That Which Is Locked Away. May or may not be obsessed with someone who died traumatically before the heroine turns up.
Various omens, portents, visions, and supernatural occurrences. Sometimes a likeness of somebody will fall over and portend their death. Sometimes Our Heroine will have a dream about what’s to come. Sometimes a ghost will appear and rattle some chains and give her a good scare – right into the secret back room where there’s a coffin. Ghosts are usually symbolic of buried impulses or memories, or they could represent the id if they hang around the house a lot making noise and destroying things.
The Castle of Otranto (Horace Walpole, 1764) Man’s son gets crushed by enormous falling helmet. Man decides to avert ancient prophecy by getting a divorce from his wife and marrying a younger woman (typical). Man fails in a truly spectacular fashion. (This is considered the first Gothic novel.)
The Mysteries of Udopho (Ann Radcliffe, 1794) Beloved daughter loses everything, is given to hateful aunt, meets a man who feels a ~mystical connection~ to the natural world. Blood-spattered hijincks ensue. Ann Radcliffe is the Queen of Gothic romance and is also known for The Italian.
The Monk (Matthew Gregory Lewis, 1796) This book is so fucking complicated it’s impossible to condense to a single paragraph, but it is Important so I’m including it. Don’t let the complexity scare you – it’s batshit insane and very entertaining. *Stefon voice* It’s got everything. It’s got NUNS. It’s got ELOPEMENT. It’s got DRAMATIC SUDDEN DEATHs. It’s got INEXPLICABLE ROMANTIC ENTANGLEMENT. It’s got SATANIC WITCHES TRYING TO CONVERT PROFLIGATE MEN. It’s got SATAN HIMSELF. Run, don’t walk.
Northanger Abbey (Jane Austen, 1817) This is a satire of Gothic romance and it is hysterical.
Wuthering Heights (Emily Brontë, 1847) Man adopts orphan. Orphan makes man’s son wildly, violently jealous. Orphan and man’s daughter fall in love. Everyone is absolutely fucking awful to one another, and no one ends up happy. When it first came out, Wuthering Heights was deeply polarizing, as many contemporary critics believed that the mental and physical cruelty depicted were too stark. It also challenged literally every Victorian ideal: misogyny, religious hypocrisy, social class… You name it, Wuthering Heights is coming to tear it to shreds.
Jane Eyre (Charlotte Brontë, 1847) Orphan child is treated horrendously by everyone except her benefactor, sees ghosts, is sent off to a school for poor and orphaned girls. More awful things happen to her, like having her friend die in her arms of typhus. Becomes governess for a young girl in the home of one Mr. Rochester; fires go out, things move of their own accord, and a terrifying woman rips her wedding veil in two. This one is a marriage plot as well as a Gothic romance, so there is a wedding at the end, but it’s up to you to decide if it’s happy.
Rebecca (Daphne Du Maurier, 1938) Young woman marries older dashing man who is also very sad. Sad dashing man likes her just the way she is even though she feels insecure because she keeps getting compared to his dead wife, who was Perfectly Perfect in every way, and whose PRESENCE still LINGERS in the SPOOKY CLOSED PORTION OF THE HOUSE. Rebecca has one of the most horrifying creepy servants of all time. I would be her for Halloween every year except nobody would have any idea who the hell I was.
Here are some of my other favorites that I highly recommend, but don’t necessarily come up on the average rec list for this genre.
Zofloya, or The Moor (Charlotte Dacre, 1806) This book is so racist and also the wildest literary ride I have ever been taken on. Satan shows up to fling somebody off a cliff. Dacre herself said that Zofloya was about morality, but there’s an argument to be had that it’s also about the kinds of things we choose to punish women for.
Carmilla (Joseph Sheridan Le Fanu, 1871-72) LESBIAN VAMPIRES. I repeat, LESBIAN VAMPIRES.
Villette (Charlotte Brontë, 1853) Famously passive protagonist encounters possibly-dead nun again and again, falls in love-hate with famously chauvinist professor, describes the three years he was away at sea as “the happiest years of my life.” He might die at the end. It’s ambiguous.
Now go forth and gorge yourself on the gorgeous melodrama of Gothic Romance!
This is awesome.
Dress
1802-1805
Musée Galliera de la Mode de la Ville de Paris
🕷️ Halloween Fashion: Zuhair Murad Fall 2023 Haute Couture Collection 🕷️
Dress
mid 1890s
The John Bright Collection
Evening cape by Elsa Schiaparelli, 1937, France.
I mean, this was probably well-intended (I get very, VERY similar comments), it's just frustrating as a costumer to see entire eras get flattened because I'm dressing in a way that feels unusual to modern eyes.
It's also extremely frustrating to see this flattening when something from pop-culture becomes the iconic example of an article of clothing.
This hat, for example, will always be the Dr. Jones, Sr. hat. I will be in completely different clothing (cosplay in this case) and still get, "this reminds me of Indiana Jones" comments.
This bothers me more than folks not knowing fashion history. Knowing fashion history is specialist knowledge, it's fine not to know much about it. But telling me that I remind you of something unrelated to what I'm doing just feels rude -- I feel like what I enjoy isn't interesting enough to stand on its own merits for your consumption. (I hear a very similar complaint from artists about their OCs.)
It's always awkward as a cosplayer / vintage nerd on how to reply to this sort of thing. I don't want to extinguish a bonding moment, but on the other hand, the flattening of rich fashion history into pop culture nuggets is a bit soul-destroying when this is one of your special interests.
"So what, I shouldn't compliment people?"
Not what I am saying. But gentle caution that "you doing [x] reminds me of [y]" can be a minefield. It sometimes even comes off as, "you did such a bad job at [x] that I confused it for [y]."
I hope you don't mind me coming on this post with a related anecdote.
Just the other day, I was dressed in my typical manner, which is loosely based in Victorian menswear - and by loosely, I mean that I like wearing waistcoats and the occasional cravat. Structurally, it's more 1950s, but in that '1950s does 1880s' way. I was wearing a tweed patchwork waistcoat and red corduroy trousers, an ordinary collared shirt and a bow tie. Casual.
And the bartender at the concert asked me if I was dressed as Willy Wonka. I was not, of course, dressed as Willy Wonka. I wasn't dressed as anything, I just look like that.
The trouble is, that I've actually been working on a Willy Wonka costume for Halloween for months. That purple velvet frock coat especially has been eating my spare time since the start of September. And though I know that my desire to somehow thread the needle between screen- and historical accuracy is my own special obsession, and thus all this work is self-imposed and something I willingly chose...
It kind of sucks that to the person on the street, I apparently already look like I'm dressed like Willy Wonka when I'm not even in a costume.
My friend, I know exactly how you feel. Down to all the self-imposed goals with no one to answer to but yourself... and yet a casual assumption can still knock the wind out of your sails. 🫠
