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@retrospectivemuse
Edie Sedgwick attending the New York Film Festival in 1965. Repost from Vogue Paris © Getty Images
LIKE A ROLLING STONE.
Factory Girl (USA, 2006)
belladoniic:
“ ah– but what’s a little shopping without chardonnay? ” freddie let out a soft laugh, holding his arm out for the other to grab. “ you’d be surprised at how many great things you can find when the mind is altered. ”
"last time i did that, andy sent me home to CHANGE." she commented, giggling as she linked her arm with his. she definitely should be spending her money on OTHER things, but she's not about to pass up an opportunity like this! "but i'll trust your judgement here. y' seem like you could teach me a thing or two about having fun, couldn't you?"
thelyreofgloom:
For a moment, the only sound audible was the echo of her heels against the floor… click, clack. A sound soon drowned out by her own laughter. As he shut the door, Bob’s gaze lingered on Edie’s figure; she walked around like she owned the goddamn place. “Yeah, Andy, that litt–…” His thoughts came to a quick halt when Edie continued… probably for the better, anyway. Just the sound of Andy’s name in his house annoyed him to no end. Not two minutes in and she’s already mentioning her prick of a boyfriend. Why had he crawled out of bed, again?
“Just wanted to see me, huh? I don’t believe that for a second.” He scoffed and wondered what would come to light, surely she had an ulterior motive. Had Andy finally kicked her out? He’d warned her not to trust him, but she wasn’t one to follow advice. “Yes, you did.” His voice softened as he ran a finger through his curls. “Y’know, I was sleepin’ like a baby, before you barged in here…” The musician inched past her and without a word, made a straight beeline for the kitchen. A minute later, he emerged with two bottles of beer, one of which he handed to her. “I don’t have any of your fancy stuff here.”
"Why, I don't know what you mean." She murmured in response, trying to sound as coy as possible, even going as far as batting her eyelashes at him to suit her act -- to the point it's clearly a joke. Truth is, she doesn't know what to tell him. She could just say she came here to get laid with him and go, but her decision was a bit more... emotionally driven? Considering the fights that'd been going on between her and Andy (most included him telling her to stay away from Bob), she'd just been driven to him more and more.
Either way, the thought of him sleeping like a baby gets a smile out of her, makes her wish she'd been there to see it with a CAMERA. She's about to apologize, that is until his last words, which get a scoff out of the blonde as she reaches for the bottle. "You talk as if I live on champagne." She looks like it, too, but that's far from the truth. After it's been opened, she takes a sip from it, peering up at him the whole while. "... sorry for waking you up. You're not gonna kick me out, are you?" Doesn't seem like he intents to, but... just checking.
Intriguing Impression Starters
“You don’t look like… much…”
“So nice to finally put a face to someone I’ve heard so much about.”
“You aren’t what I expected, but I hope to be surprised.”
“Well… this is awkward… uhhh hello.”
“I’m failing to remember what I expected when I signed up for this.”
“Not gonna lie, you were incredibly intimidating at first… still kind of are.”
“We seemed to have gotten off on the wrong foot.”
“Seems that the rumors and reputation are indeed being lived up to.”
“So I’ve heard some things…”
“You were the LAST person I expected.”
“Sparring partner huh? I think I can take you.”
“Me? I’m not anyone particularly special.”
“Haven’t heard of you whatsoever.”
“I’ve known you for five minutes and I think we’re already friends.”
“You and me are gonna get along great.”
“This is absolutely not working out.”
“Clearly there needs to be some ground rules established.”
“You’re going to be my sparring partner?”
“You know what? I like you.”
“Not working out. Nope.”
“I’m sorry but looking at you doesn’t scream ‘fighter’ to me.”
“I really hope you can make a better second impression.”
“You get one more shot. I hope it will change my mind.”
“I’m here to apologize about before… can we try again?”
“Well this is certainly… incredibly interesting. Nice to meet you.”
belladoniic:
@retrospectivemuse || x
“ alright, darling– what did you want to do today? little shopping? little drinking? all of the above? ”
OKAY, HE HAD HER AT SHOPPING ( even if she JUST got her paycheck and would probably benefit more from saving it than spending it ). ❝ BOTH. in that order. ❞ 'cause the other way around is how you end up looking like a disaster. the muse giggles, bumping her shoulder against his. ❝ and without the 'little'. ❞
thelyreofgloom:
When there was a knock on the door, the musician’s first instinct was to ignore it; he was already in bed, half-asleep and wasn’t expecting anyone to visit. After about a minute of silent contemplation, curiosity got the better of him. Who could it be? And what time was it? Had the trespasser already left? Bob abandoned the warmth of his bed and stumbled across the room in search of his clothes that were scattered about the room. He threw on the same jeans he’d worn the last couple of days and a casual, white shirt. As he rushed downstairs, he struggled to button up his shirt and the ones closest to the collar, he left undone.
When he reached the door, he opened it slightly to peek out. “Jeez, Edie! What’re you doin’ here?” She was a sight for sore eyes, even if he’d never admit it. “Isn’t it past your curfew or somethin’?” The fatigued musician teased, as he opened the door a little wider, just enough for her to squeeze past.
She was about to turn on her heel and go, only stopped by the sound of the door opening, Bob's tired eyes peeking at her. For a moment, she simply stares, lips parted --- and then a giggle falls from them. That was... more welcoming than she thought she'd get. She wouldn't have blamed him for shouting at her for showing up at his house in the middle of the night!
She squeezes in, palm brushing against his chest as she walks by him. She heads for the couch, but doesn't sit on it quite yet. Instead, she turns around, regarding him with a smile. "And who would set curfew for me? Andy?" She says, tone playful and light, but she doesn't let that comment linger for too long -- soon rushing to change the subject (she's sure she wants to talk about Andy as much as Andy wants to talk about him... meaning, he doesn't even wanna hear the name). "No, I just... I wanted to see you. I didn't wake you up, did I?" She knows she did just by taking a look at him. But... still.
It's about midnight, and the 'superstar' is standing outside Bob's door, figure draped in a leopard print coat to keep herself safe from the cold. She knocks about 3 times before stepping back, going back to anxiously bouncing in place. She doesn't know if he's gonna open, or if she's just gonna stand out here for minutes like an idiot, and that's because she didn't let him know she was coming. Which seems like a bad gesture from her, but she didn't know she was gonna show up until... a few minutes ago, after her first drink? She got lonely, and she wanted to be someone who wasn't part of Andy's crew, someone who actually enjoyed her company (at least she thinks he does, she knows she enjoys his).
Hopefully, all her walking wouldn't be in vain, even if he just lets her in to tell her off for waking him up or something.
@thelyreofgloom
daisyjnes:
❝ and i never did believe in time, you know, changing anybody’s mind. ❞
@retrospectivemuse spun the record.
“ Don't know about that one. ” Shoulders lift and drop again, the girl offering a bit of a sheepish smile around her cigarette. “ I don't think my mind works the same way it did a year ago, y' know? ” Or, hell, even a month ago! Things have been moving way too fast in her life.
evieenpointe:
!! LYRIC INSPIRED STARTER FOR @retrospectivemuse !! — song: Inches and Falling ( I Love, Love ) by The Format
“Oh, but I just… I love love, you know, like– like one would love a second helping of dessert, or another glass of wine, or… or, you know, anything that’s not good for you. I don’t much care what it does to me…” But there isn’t a hint of acknowledgment towards the sad moral she’d just relayed; why would she bother with it, anyway? She’s no scholar, no Aesop here to give fables… Just a girl, sitting all bow-legged and awkward, keeping herself busy with minor chit chat and the pair of pointe shoes she’s sewing ribbons into. “People do the silliest things when they’re in love, when they get all goofy and puppy eyed about it, they start waiting around for phone calls or letters, it’s so heartbreaking, so beautiful…”
Eyes squint a moment, to peer down at her handiwork, prior to promptly showing off the golden little design she’d stitched on the inside of her shoe, so it would only be known when it pressed against her sole as she danced: “Look’it, a LION, isn’t that something?! Do you like it!?” indeed, a crude little stitching of kitty eyes, nose, whiskers, and other long lines to represent a sort of mane: “I’m getting better at this… how long have we been waiting for, now?”
Evangeline’s not the sort to even fake knowing what’s going on, with all these socialites, these eclectic folks… she’s just happy to be here.
Yet another event where she's been brought along as Andy's 'date', except this time he's left her all on her own to wander. 'Mix', he said, but she feels like a bit of a deer in headlights. There's no music in the background, and some of these men are wearing suits. Clearly, this is not their usual crew. Her usual crew. So, after retrievening a drink from the nearest tray (which looks fancy, but hopefully has some alcohol in it, otherwise she doesn't know how she'll get through this whole ordeal), she ended up draped in the nearest couch, accompanied by someone who seemed as disconnected from the whole thing as she was.
She scoots over (slow, mindful not to spill anything) until she's right next to her, close enough to get a good view of said lion, lips parted in wonder, a giggle falling from them soon after. “ That's something, alright! ” She replied, cheerful tone offering an answer to the 'do you like it?' without her having to say it outright. “ And a fine way to pass the time. I think we've been waiting for about... 30 minutes, now? Any more, and I might scream. Or... ” Voice drops, as if she's about to tell the other a big secret. “ ... sneak out the back. ”
Andy Warhol with Edie Edgwick and Chuck Wein in NYC, photo by Burt Glinn. 1965