Feb 24, 2023
The huntress © 2023 by Kevin Nance
(Kennell master Aliina Keers and her horse Finish at the Iroquois Hunt Club, Lexington, Kentucky)
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The huntress © 2023 by Kevin Nance
(Kennell master Aliina Keers and her horse Finish at the Iroquois Hunt Club, Lexington, Kentucky)
Man and the Horse
An Illustrated History of Equestrian Apparel
Alexander Mackay Smith, Jean R.Druesedow, Thomas Ryder
Introduction by Diana Vreeland, Foreword by Philippe de Montebello
The Metropolitan Museum of Art, Simon and Schuster New York, 1984, 128 pages, ISBN 0-671-55520-0
euro 35,00
email if you want to buy [email protected]
This book was published in connection with an exhibition at The Costume Institute of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, New York from December, 3 1984, through September 1, 1985
Mrs. Vreeland noted: “The power, beauty and elegance of the horse have fascinated people across cultures and across centuries. A well-mounted rider moving as one with his horse has long symbolized the highest degree of accomplishment and sophistication and has set standards for the conduct of society as well as for elegance in dress. The assemblage of objects in the exhibition will focus on the central role of the horse in the development of style in fashion through a study of the many specific habits for riding, hunting, racing, polo and driving. It will emphasize the artistry and precision of tailoring.
“Riding apparel has been a strong influence on fashion at least from the 18th century when women began to adapt masculine styles for their own riding ensembles and then further utilized these elements of tailoring and decoration in their regular daywear. The fundamentals of the tailored suit for both men and women — such a basic part of a contemporary wardrobe can be traced directly to styles developed over the centuries to accommodate the horse and rider:•
The exhibition will also explore the splendor of the accoutrements associated with the horse — such as saddles, harnesses, tandems, pony carts — which conjure images of beautifully finished leathers, highly polished brasses, impeccable tailoring and rigorous attention to detail.
Implicit in the influence of the horse on fashion is the broader impact of the horse on many other aspects of life; splendid carriages will reflect the vital importance of transporation and habit for the hunt. Throughout the exhibition the artistry inspired by the horse will dominate and will emphasize the prominence of the relationship of the horse and man in the history of art.
19/06/22
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Foxhunting season is over, so back to the trails! 2 days back-to-back and Ms Crickety was tired enough to say "yeah you go canter off into the distance, I'll hang back and walk it out." Wish she had found that attitude while foxhunting, but we'll be back at it again in the fall.
March 2022
- Robert S Surtees, from MR FACEY ROMFORD’S HOUNDS (1865)
THE ORIGINAL POST HAS BEEN MARKED AS “SENSITIVE” AND NSFW, and has been in appeal FOR MONTHS! I still get followed by hundreds of actual PORN BOTS, but u marked THIS post as “SENSITIVE.” Guess I know whose side yr on, tumblr.
Try, try again...
I’d lost my hat in January, it was very cold and miserable. I asked a passing fox for help in my predicament. We came to a mutual agreement, he would sleep curled up on my head during daytime, keeping my head nice and toasty (his tail kept the wind of my gullet, much like a nuns wimple does) and I’d make sure he was safe from harm and farmers who enjoy killing things for fun with bleach soaked meat and clubs.
It was good while it lasted, but in the end we had to part, he said it was approaching spring and needed a mate, and I knew I wouldn’t need his thermal friendship during the summer months. We still write to each other, and some day we hope to form a folk duo.
This is my life.
https://youtu.be/8WRdJ5wBXpo
M•Register: Apotropaion - II
[Deep beneath a churning static-storm dervish scouring the surface above, two errant dead plumb the ruined depths of an ancient, mostly-buried skyscraper.]
The gunslinger, Foxhunting, stoops low, peering between the slats of a vent hatch. He squints, eyes straining against the dark veil within.
“I think this could be our way in.”
“Front door’s too good for you?”, his companion chides. Foxhunting begins to work the corroded bolts at the corners of the hatch. His fingers slip.
“Ah, no,” he pauses, fumbling to pull a multi-tool from some hidden pocket, “It’s trapped.” The gunslinger gestures to the sleek panel door without turning his attention from the vent beside it. A wrench head springs from the tool with a pneumatic clack. “Etched in the corner. Top left.”
His companion’s gaze follows the tool to the point indicated, “A hand?”
“Seven fingered. Old Moirai icon.”
“And that’s a problem?”
“Blowback from cracking that open without an authorized aura would be...”, he trails off, popping the rust of the first bolt with a twist.
“Would be...?”
“Hm? Oh. Catastrophic. Really bad time.”
“We’re functionally immortal.”
Foxhunting works the second bolt, “Mmhmm.”
His companion lets the grunt hang in the air. The third bolt clatters to the floor, then the fourth. Finally, breaking the silence, “So, what’s your plan here? Unless you’re an absolute twig under all that kit, I don’t think you’re gonna manage to squeeze in there.”
“Still have that familiar?” The gunslinger opens the hatch and regards his companion, staying hunched.
“The homunculus? Yeah, why?”
“Whole vault is gonna be warded, whether the intruder waltzes in the front, or — godforbid — tries cramming themself through an air duct. Either way, uh... ‘kerblammo’.” Foxhunting turns back to the vent, throat ticking affect with some subvocalized thought, he continues: “But! I suspect that because this arcana predates the Fey intrusion,” he shines a light from the butt end of the multi-tool into the vent, collapsing the wrench with his thumb, “it won’t be designed to see him.”
“How do you figure that?”
“Fey’s anti-natural, and Moirai tech would only look for a Weave signature. Unless the security was specifically tuned to feel for an abscess at a wavelength they couldn’t have known existed, I don’t think we’re gonna be tripping any alarms here.” Stowing the tool, he holds out a dusty palm, expectant.
His companion rummages around between their transmat pockets until, smiling with success, they pull out an oblong phial containing a particulate black smoke. They twist it open with their teeth, uncorking with a hissing pop, and pour the miasmatic fog into the gunslinger’s hand, causing Foxhunting to shudder with the sensation.
“So we send...”, Foxhunting’s hand tightens around the coalescing shadow’s body as it gains the corporeality sufficient to do so, “What’s your name, little imp?”
LACK, it wheezes.
“So we send Lack in to yank the plug. Have him dismantle the ward from the inside, where we can muss around with the runes holding it together.”
“And that won’t cause a catastrophically bad time for us?”
Foxhunting tosses the imp into the vent and lets the hatch clatter shut behind it, “Shouldn’t, no.”
Maria Uusivirta Design | Simple stylish and timeless designs which you can personalize. Fall in love to minimalist dachshund.
No meles meles vulpes vulpes for predatorhunters.