The randomly chosen winner of the ARC of Not Wicked Enough is . . . Kaetrin I’ve sent you an email but feel free to email me directly (carolyn AT carolynjewel.com) with your mailing address!
The randomly chosen winner of the ARC of Not Wicked Enough is . . . Kaetrin I’ve sent you an email but feel free to email me directly (carolyn AT carolynjewel.com) with your mailing address!
I came across this in Stegman’s The Rule Of Taste:
[S]ince, however, Fonthill was not a cathedral but a house it was inevitable that it should be pronounced eccentric and looked on, if not with amazement certainly with suspicion, just as [George] Beckford must have appeared suspicious to his neighbors, a man who, inheriting a fine mansion, should pull down that mansion and build another and a greater, might be thought extravagant, but when he proceeded to pull that down in turn and replace it by yet another, and even larger, and with, moreover, a soaring tower, employing two armies of workmen laboring alternately by day and by night (the tower collapsed immediately it was completed, and was promptly put up again,) then beyond doubt he must be thought eccentric; finally, for a man so wealthy and so evidently original to live alone in celibate aloofness was in the highest degree suspicious.
So, first, hella long sentence there, buddy!
Apparently, if Mr. Beckford had done all this but slept with the maids and local virgins and held parties, that would not have been suspicious at all.
I have a question for you guys at the end, so check it out.
Beckford, in case you don’t know, inherited 100,000 pounds. According to Stegman, he wrote Vathek (That’s a whole ‘nother post) in French in one sitting over the course of three days and two nights. (p84, fn 1) Also according to Stegman, he sold the house in 1822 for 330,000 pounds. The tower collapsed shortly after the sale because it had no foundations. The contractor was a cheat, it seems. The house was torn down shortly after the sale.
Google books is a goldmine, and I highly suggest a search for “Fonthill”, limiting your search to 1800-1825. There’s poetry and list of the books in the library. Here’s a link to the list of the contents being auctioned off in 1801. Ever wonder what kind of rooms these big old houses had? Here’s a few:
Here’s a list of the contents of another of the bedrooms:
SOUTH CORNER BEDCHAMBER.
Various KITCHEN And Other FURNITURE REMOVED FROM THE LOFTS.
TURKISH ROOM.
LIBRARY.
So, having perused this, tell me in the comments what you thought/imagined/desperately desired as you read the various lists.
Me, I say, PARTY IN THE TURKISH ROOM!
Four French Ladies All Duded Up. |
I took the photo above with my Nikon D-80, a camera I love, but for which I do not have the correct sort of lens for this endeavor. My apologies for their blurry feet. You’ll have to take my word for it, their shoes are cute. Over on the left, underneath the cute slippers, the text says “Restoration 1815” Since this is FRENCH fashion, that would be the restoration of Napoleon. Over there on the right, it says “Restoration 1830”
It’s from my book “History of Fashion” which you don’t find out until you look at the interior that it’s
The book does have all the original color plates on very thick paper. They’re really, really vibrantly colored so I love looking through this book.
Anyway, in just 15 years, fashion changed pretty dramatically.
French Lady No. 1: Well, no, jeune fille. Awesome reticule but the flounces are a bit much for me. Not a complete fail. She’s rocking the colors: pink ribbon, pink hat, green gloves and yellow and green shawl. Sorry French Lady No 1. I will have to vote you off the runway for excessive use of flounces.
French Lady No. 2: Eglantine wears a more successful concoction. This is a prettier gown if you ask me. But come on. That gown makes her look pregnant. Or else she is. If she is, awesome maternity gown! If she’s not, that’s a fabric fail. The picture strongly suggests her scarf is attached to her head. A secret weapon, perhaps? It looks like a ribbon scarf but it’s really a lasso.
French Lady No. 3: Well. I say her name is Martine, and but what the F are those yellow things? I mean I know they’re bows, but to me they look like squirrels disguised as bows. If I were a guy, I’d be afraid of those bows. Nevertheless, lose the bows and I like this dress. The enormous sleeves will keep squirrel lovers at bay.
French Lady No. 4: Pink. That rocks. I used to hate pink but now I don’t. From the hem to the waist this frock is a major win. Above the belt? That’s a superhero costume. I am umbrella lady! Radioactive bullets shoot out of my sleeves! Also, how the hell can she possibly breathe with that belt so tight? That’s why she looks sad. Because she can’t breathe. She doesn’t have to be voted off the runway. She’ll fall off when the oxygen runs out. 3…2…1 Kablam!
So, who wins the Time Travel Project Runway show? Opine in the comments.
Hopefully this works. There are five possible answers to select for each question!
I hope everyone who celebrated Thanksgiving is recovering from their feasts.
This year we brined our turkey and let me just say this is the first year ever when we did not have dry turkey. I also made pumpkin pie (from fresh pumpkin) and pumpkin bread (with and without cranberries). I also put whipped cream in my coffee for as long as the whipped cream lasted. I want more.
I have been unable to stop thinking about my post from last week in which I went off the deep end with the inventory of the contents of Fonthill. The reference to “chimney glass” continued to nag at me. So did “chimney ornaments” so back I went to Google and now I have a few more things to share.
First this:
Antique Chimney from Jamb |
I came across Jamb which aside from being a beautiful website, is also a fantastic resource for chimney information and pictures. As well as lots of other things.
Any way, chimney glass is as you might have guessed, a mirror set above the chimney, though usually, from what I gather, in a large plate. If you were looking to cut corners, you might devise a decorative panel between the ceiling and the top of the chimney glass so you didn’t have to use as much glass. For quite some time, in rooms that needed to impress, the chimney glass went from mantle to ceiling.
At Fonthill, the South Bed Chamber contained: A chimney glass in a white frame, 2 plates 31 by 16 (I am pretty sure that’s inches, not feet, but 62 inches by 28 is darn big). In the Turkish room, there was this: A ditto [french plate glass] over the chimney, Seventy-three Inches By Fifty-nine, in a blind frame.
If you go back to the Turkish room inventory, most of the room that wasn’t windows was covered with mirrors. (Gee, I wonder why? They wouldn’t have done anything naughty in there would they? Nah.)
Chimney ornaments on the other hand, are much more fun. They were, more or less, brik-a-bak for your mantle. They might be brass (such as a flat brass fiddler) or porcelain — one writer made a rather snide remark about all the porcelain Buddhas from China. They were also a source of craftwork for women. Things to make with which to decorate the mantle. There were also numerous instructions for making chimney ornaments from vegetables — cutting off the top of a carrot and letting the green part grow, for example as well as a recipe for crystalizing objects for the mantle using alum. You might crystalize a rose, for example, or any number of decoratively arranged objects from nature.
Fonthill, by the way lists: Two India and 3 china chimney ornaments so really, I think you could have anything there. Tasteful or otherwise.
So, if you were a rich Regency lady, what kind of chimney ornaments would YOU make? Or would you save your pennies and buy them? Would you give a crystalized rose to your beau?
Also, just curious, what would YOU do in the Turkish Room and who would be there to party with you?