#alphonsine

[chic-a-gigot]

Les Modes : revue mensuelle illustrée des arts décoratifs appliqués à la femme, no. 82, octobre 1907, Paris. La Mode, par Alphonsine. Photo Reutlinger. Bibliothèque nationale de France

[thedeadleafs]

1910

Les Modes (Paris) June 1910 la mode par Alphonsine

[gogmstuff]

1909 was a big year in hats -

Left 1909 (1 January issue) Les Modes hat by Alphonsine. From gallica.bnf.fr; fixed spots & flaws w Pshop 1024X1443.

Right 1909 (1 Febuary issue) Les Modes Hat by Alphonsine. From gallica.bnf.fr; fixed spots & flaws w Pshop 1024X1418.

Left 1909 (1 March issue) Les Modes (back of issue) Variations sur la mode by De Losques. From gallica.bnf.fr; cropped 851X1204.

Right 1909 (1 March issue) Les Modes Variations sur la mode by De Losques. From gallica.bnf.fr; cropped 854X1206.

Left 1909 (1 March issue) Les Modes Hat by Alphonsine. From gallica.bnf.fr; fixed spots & flaws w Pshop 1024X1413.

Right 1909 (1 April issue) Les Modes Hat by Alphonsine photo-Félix. From gallica.bnf.fr; fixed spots & flaws w Pshop 1024X1412.

Left 1909 (1 May issue) Les Modes Hat by Alphonsine photo-Félix. From gallica.bnf.fr; fixed spots and flaws w Pshop 1024X.1405.

Right 1909 (1 May issue) Les Modes Hats by Maison Amicy. From gallica.bnf.fr; fixed spots and flaws w Pshop 1024X1405.

1909 (1 June issue) Les Modes Hat by Alphonsine photo-Félix. From gallica.bnf.fr; fixed spots & flaws w Pshop 1024X1406.

Left 1909 (1 August issue) Les Modes hat by Alphonsine photo-Félix. From gallica.bnf.fr; fixed spots w Pshop 1024X1407.

Right 1909 (1 August issue) Les Modes Hat by Maison Amigy photo-Reutlinger. From gallica.bnf.fr; fixed spots w Pshop 1024X1407.

1909 (1 August issue) Les Modes Cover princesse Alexandre de Hohenlohe photo-Pierre Sanitas. From gallica.bnf.fr; fixed spots w Pahop 1024X1408.

Left 1909 (1 September issue) Les Modes cover Mlle Ocampo by Helleu. From gallica.bnf.fr; fixed spots and flaws w Pshop 1024X1406.

Right 1909 (1 September issue) Les Modes robe d'après-midi by Bernard photo - Reutlinger. From gallica.bnf.fr; fixed spots & flaws w Pshop 1024X1407.

1909 (1 October issue) Les Modes Hat by Alphonsine photo - Félix. From gallica.bnf.fr; fixed spots & flaws w Pshop 1024X1408.

[ceciliabae]

@alxefevre​

“Sorry, I didn’t see— oh,” Cece started, this time with no animosity when she ran into Alphonsine because what she’d actually bumped into was Bleu, and a soft sort of smile spread on her face as she looked down at the robot face. “Sorry, Bleu!” she finished, then brought her gaze up to the other girl’s, still awkwardly wearing the smile. “Uh, hi.”

[les-modes]

Hats by Alphonsine, Les Modes January 1903. Photo by Reutlinger.

[whumpstdve-done-this]

The Split

“And how do you plead to this court?” The man sitting at their left hand asked, gesturing to then. “How do you plead to this judge?”

“N-N-Not guilty.” The accused replied, staring at some point around their knees. The judge, Alphonsiné, crossed their legs under their robes.

“And what is the verdict?” The MC asked. He had no real power, he was just for show. They all were.

It was of no consequence to the universe at large if this one particular accused was found guilty and sentenced to death. Not really. Life would go on and death would continue on its way as it had before.

Was the accused guilty? Yes, and no. It was too complicated for this court of amusements to handle. On one hand, they did almost end someone else’s life. Almost. On the other hand, the victim was a torture technician that had tortured the accused. In addition, the victim was already injured, and some would see their death as a mercy rather than be stuck with chronic pain and suffering for the rest of their natural life.

The god spoke. “Should I set you free? Do you want to be not guilty?”

The accused’s eyes widened. They supposed that no one had asked them what they wanted in a long time.

“...Y-Yes... please. I do. I-I mean. It was my fault, wasn’t it? Was it? Was it wrong? Was it wrong? Did I do the right thing? I-I failed, d-didn’t I? I don’t know, I don’t know, I don’t-“

Alphonsiné raised their palm and stood. “I shall retire to my chambers to decide the verdict. The rest of you may amuse yourselves in the mean time. Et, ensure the accused is alright and stable enough to proceed. That is all.”

They ignored any comments thrown at them as they retreated back to a separate chamber meant for the judge to observe and meditate. From their seat in the center, they could see the courtroom from a camera set behind their throne. As the accused was being corralled by a guard, they panicked and threw their hands up to cover their face and threw back their head, lifting their shirt a bit. Alphonsiné saw in that instant something that made their blood run cold. They sent for Et.

“Is something wrong?” He asked upon his arrival.

“The accused. I saw. They have a s-scar. That scar.” All of their earlier composure and eloquence was gone as their fingers dug into the fabric at their hip. “I-It’s the same as mine. D-Did HE do this? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Et’s face twisted. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want it to affect your judgement.”

They barked out a laugh. “Affect my judgement? Of course it does! And what does it matter to that blasted court? They just want to see me suffer and watch people burn! Who cares what I decide? None of it matters and those that it does matter to are dead!”

Et sighed. “I had a feeling you would do this. I’ll fetch you a cool drink. Do you want your lover? I can have him brought in.”

“Don’t you dare bring him here. I never want him to see this. Keep him away.” They let out an exasperated huff. “Just leave me. I will return shortly with my verdict.”

“As you wish. Oh, but if you want to know...” Et looked back from his place in the doorway. “It wasn’t him, but one of his followers. And the victim has since passed away from unrelated injuries. So it isn’t a murder trial, but just so yoy know.”

“Thank you, Et.” Their mouth became a wicked smirk. “And no more lies, Etienne. You do know I despise lying.”

Et’s face paled considerably as he nodded and fled the room.

Alphonsiné raised a hand to their head. It throbbed angrily and they knew thamey were going to need a drink after this. And maybe some cuddles with their lover.

The accused was really deserving of a not guilty verdict. It was justified. The victim deserved it and worse. Despite the scars, the accused could create a life and maybe heal a bit. With help, of course. Help Alphonsiné was willing to give.

However... one deed deserves another, does it not? The same to be dealt to them. No more, no less. Fair and honest. The victim would receive the same were they not dead, and they certainly weren’t worth the trouble of resurrecting.

But weren’t they? For doing what they did? For being a follower of him?

Of course not. To let emotions rise is to cloud judgement. And judgement must reflect the truth. And I am the truth.

The sentence for this crime, because of the lie a not guilty verdict plea carries, is dismemberment. Not death. Is that not unnecessarily cruel? Will I ignore the pain I know they feel? Will I be callous?

It is the law.

It’s what HE would have done.

I am not him.

I am a product of him. He is a part of me. Even if he is a part I want to rip out. There is enough suffering. His followers will rejoice if punishment is given out for one of their victims.

That no longer concerns me. The ants that crawl at my feet are for nothing but amusement.

It was not so amusing when my skin was scarred. When my bones were carved into. When the limits of a god’s immortality was tested. When the pain became personal to amuse him. When he ruined my immortal life that I cannot escape from.

I am a judge. I must be objective.

But sometimes, truth and objectivity are not enough.

Alphonsiné sighed and stood. They had their answer.

Court was called back into session and the accused brought to them.

Et looked at them, worry absent from his face but rampant in his eyes. “How does this judge find the accused?”

Their eyes met the accused’s for the first time. They were a bright and somehow still innocent blue. Alphonsiné’s expression faltered as their own, single red eye closed.

They folded their hands on their lap and opened their eye, meeting the other’s gaze.

“Not guilty.”

“T-Thank you!” The accused’s face broke out into a smile and they jumped up before wincing and touching a hand to their hip.

Alphonsiné subtly ran their own thumb over the place where the scar began on their pelvis.

That poor child will not be thanking me later.

The scar will never heal.

And their mind won’t either.

[costumeloverz71]

Juliette Clarens in an afternoon dress by Buzenet and a hat by Alphonsine. Les Modes

[mudwerks]

Helen Bennett in High-brimmed hat by Alphonsine, 1938 - photo by Horst P Horst