I have a very strong point to make on the virtue of using TWO hat pins, and no less! You may think me very severe upon the subject dearest, but please hear my wisdom. My opinion on the matter has been reinforced upon my turn in Hyde Park this afternoon, as you shall hear, and I find myself in the congratulatory position of having always been sensible enough to increase the fortitude of the fixture of my chapeau upon my own elegant coif with the addition of one extra hat pin.
I found myself in a most fortuitous location for the observation of the less sensible as I was taking a turn with Mrs.Chester Leighton today. No sooner had we rounded Rotten Row to see who had taken their animals out for a jaunt, than a gust of wind plucked Mrs.Chester Leighton's befeathered concoction from her head and carried it sailing in the direction of the Serpentine River. A moment's panicked confusion crossed dear Mrs.Leighton's face, for you see, we were accompanied by no gentlemen! I shall not uncover the particulars of the poor lady's humiliation as she took off in fluttering, awkward chase (I daresay you shall even read about it in the columns! There were enough bystanders, heaven knows!), but shall simply extract the lesson that my dear friends would be wise to remember from this poor lady's humiliation.
One cannot always, or in some poor ladies' cases, ever, be certain of the company of a gentleman, upon whose chivalry she may certainly rely, when walking out of doors. And WHO indeed, as my dear Mrs.Chester Leighton discovered today, wishes to admit to being the flailing mistress of an improprietous hat? Would it be better to flag down a gentleman not of one's own party, or heaven forbid, to appear hatless? One cannot exactly carry extras as one shrewdly does with gloves. Where would a lady stow such a cumbersome forethought?
No indeed, as there is no way to save one's feminine image in the case of a hat gone rogue, I must impress upon you with severity that the ONLY course of action is precautionary...and that is in the employment of no fewer than two hat pins!
Thursday, December 3, 2009
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
The Big Bustled Baroness: a story from our guest gossiper
Now and again, even our ample resources and vast network of informers, not to mention our own sharp eyes, are not sufficient to really get the full story of a certain tawdry escapade. Sometimes, even we must make do with rumors and guesswork. When it comes to the lives of those who tread the boards on Drury Lane, we are most definitely in the dark (not being among those who share the idea that ladies and gentlemen should mingle with actresses and actors! The idea!), and thus must hear of the scandalous goings-on therein from wherever we can, which brings us to the introduction of our guest-columnist. A rabidly curious young chap from the Whitechapel district, our little friend is as hungry for gossip as he is...well, hungry. With a vocabulary that belies his stature, here is the story of the shocking event the young fellow witnessed at the latest play...
"When a traveling theater troupe did the Scottish play, I couldn't stand how unbearably funny it was. It wasn't because of the script that made it funny, but the reason the play was canceled. As everybody left because of the news, I went backstage to see what the fiddle was [Note: "what's that fiddle" is a charming local turn of phrase in the Whitechapel district]. And to my great surprise, it was the lead actress, stuck in the doorway because of her bumbling bustle. "This bloody thing is always canceling plays!" I heard the actress say [Note: we apologize for the appalling language--actresses, and indeed our young informant, have notoriously shocking tongues]. I would tell you what else she said, but some things she said would probably be unappropriate for children under twenty-five [Thank goodness the child has some sense of propriety!].
The solution of all this was to have a rope tied around her waist and have eighteen men heave for twenty-four minutes until she was free."
Well! What a lot we miss when we swear off the theater!
"When a traveling theater troupe did the Scottish play, I couldn't stand how unbearably funny it was. It wasn't because of the script that made it funny, but the reason the play was canceled. As everybody left because of the news, I went backstage to see what the fiddle was [Note: "what's that fiddle" is a charming local turn of phrase in the Whitechapel district]. And to my great surprise, it was the lead actress, stuck in the doorway because of her bumbling bustle. "This bloody thing is always canceling plays!" I heard the actress say [Note: we apologize for the appalling language--actresses, and indeed our young informant, have notoriously shocking tongues]. I would tell you what else she said, but some things she said would probably be unappropriate for children under twenty-five [Thank goodness the child has some sense of propriety!].
The solution of all this was to have a rope tied around her waist and have eighteen men heave for twenty-four minutes until she was free."
Well! What a lot we miss when we swear off the theater!
Thursday, October 22, 2009
Royal drama in the opera house
Current Beverage: White Tea with a splash of Pomegranate
A tiresome and run-of-the-mill evening at the opera last night became a fascinating pageant of human folly, as the melodramatic windbags onstage lost the spotlight to the very real drama being played out between the Prince of Wales and his estranged wife. Needless to say, I was all atwitter with excitement.
The Princess Caroline, surrounded by several of her more charming friends (I do believe I caught a glimpse of the dashing Admiral Sidney Smith!) entered her box, waving sweetly to the populace to general applause, a vision in forest green. I do believe the princess grows younger by the year, for I daresay none of this season’s young ladies at Almack’s can compete with her fresh cheeks and easy, booming laugh! Just then, in a box not far from the princess’s, who should stroll in but the Prince of Wales himself! Clad in satin and no doubt a corset, and surrounded by his usual and boisterous crowd of admirers and hangers-on, Prinny proceeded to make quite a spectacle of himself, carrying on loudly enough to quite ruin the show—for those still paying attention to the drama onstage, that is, rather than the drama in the royal boxes.
As soon as the prince caught sight of the poor princess, oh, the mutterings and titterings began, and the poor woman was quite made an object of sport by the prince and his simpering minions. An eagle-eyed observer such as myself might have noted that the chivalric Admiral may have drawn ever so slightly closer to the princess as she withstood this embarrassment, but then I would shudder to monger gossip. Apparently blissfully unaware of any such rumors swirling in his direction, I don’t mind saying that the prince made his odious attentions toward the ladies in his company abundantly obvious. Ah, for the halcyon days of the monarchy, when such indiscretions were kept neatly behind closed doors! Nevertheless, I have rarely enjoyed a night at the opera so much!
A tiresome and run-of-the-mill evening at the opera last night became a fascinating pageant of human folly, as the melodramatic windbags onstage lost the spotlight to the very real drama being played out between the Prince of Wales and his estranged wife. Needless to say, I was all atwitter with excitement.
The Princess Caroline, surrounded by several of her more charming friends (I do believe I caught a glimpse of the dashing Admiral Sidney Smith!) entered her box, waving sweetly to the populace to general applause, a vision in forest green. I do believe the princess grows younger by the year, for I daresay none of this season’s young ladies at Almack’s can compete with her fresh cheeks and easy, booming laugh! Just then, in a box not far from the princess’s, who should stroll in but the Prince of Wales himself! Clad in satin and no doubt a corset, and surrounded by his usual and boisterous crowd of admirers and hangers-on, Prinny proceeded to make quite a spectacle of himself, carrying on loudly enough to quite ruin the show—for those still paying attention to the drama onstage, that is, rather than the drama in the royal boxes.
As soon as the prince caught sight of the poor princess, oh, the mutterings and titterings began, and the poor woman was quite made an object of sport by the prince and his simpering minions. An eagle-eyed observer such as myself might have noted that the chivalric Admiral may have drawn ever so slightly closer to the princess as she withstood this embarrassment, but then I would shudder to monger gossip. Apparently blissfully unaware of any such rumors swirling in his direction, I don’t mind saying that the prince made his odious attentions toward the ladies in his company abundantly obvious. Ah, for the halcyon days of the monarchy, when such indiscretions were kept neatly behind closed doors! Nevertheless, I have rarely enjoyed a night at the opera so much!
Wednesday, October 14, 2009
Close Call on a Balcony
Current Beverage: Swiss Darjeeling black tea.
Well! I swear I have never been so close to discovering and revealing Lady Hyacinth in her usual compromising state as I was last night at Almack’s! Unfortunately the gentleman escaped from the balcony they had been sharing a mere moment before I arrived –bearing a glass of lemonade that I was delivering to a friend that I “thought was on the balcony. ;)” But to think! One moment sooner and I could have congratulated myself that Lady Hyacinth would finally have to be made an honest woman by whatever bounder she had caught this time!
Oh lord. On the other hand, my dear, it could be that the poor man was helpless against her practiced wiles, or had been lead to the balcony on some false pretense, and should by no means have to be shackled to the Jezebel for life! Not when there are still gentlewomen willing to forgive these errors and share the yoke with the misguided soul. And as I like to say, my dear, what’s wrong with a nice Viscount?!
And why indeed should Lady Hyacinth be rewarded for her wicked intentions and randomly bestowed allurements? Yes, my dear, I am very pleased to share that I thwarted Lady Hyacinth from her obvious and over-used attempts to ensnare a fine gentleman, and from now on I shall take great care to be sure of whom I am on the cusp of discovering in a compromising situation!
Well! I swear I have never been so close to discovering and revealing Lady Hyacinth in her usual compromising state as I was last night at Almack’s! Unfortunately the gentleman escaped from the balcony they had been sharing a mere moment before I arrived –bearing a glass of lemonade that I was delivering to a friend that I “thought was on the balcony. ;)” But to think! One moment sooner and I could have congratulated myself that Lady Hyacinth would finally have to be made an honest woman by whatever bounder she had caught this time!
Oh lord. On the other hand, my dear, it could be that the poor man was helpless against her practiced wiles, or had been lead to the balcony on some false pretense, and should by no means have to be shackled to the Jezebel for life! Not when there are still gentlewomen willing to forgive these errors and share the yoke with the misguided soul. And as I like to say, my dear, what’s wrong with a nice Viscount?!
And why indeed should Lady Hyacinth be rewarded for her wicked intentions and randomly bestowed allurements? Yes, my dear, I am very pleased to share that I thwarted Lady Hyacinth from her obvious and over-used attempts to ensnare a fine gentleman, and from now on I shall take great care to be sure of whom I am on the cusp of discovering in a compromising situation!
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Napoleon's Scandalous Relations!
Current Beverage: Twinings' Lady Grey black tea.
You will be pleased to know, my dear, that I did not miss a thing at Josephine's assembly last night! Over my second glass of ratafia (say what you will of the obscenities one is forced to endure at such assemblies, the refreshments at the Tuilleries are always adequate) I spotted black widow Pauline Bonaparte leading another hapless victim into her web. The emperor turned his habitual blind eye as another of his decorated captains was snared by his sister's bedroom eyes and easy virtue.
Pauline was wearing a negligee-inspired muslin that clung, some might say unforgivingly to her famous curves, leaving little to the imagination in the way of decollatage. A sensible Englishwoman such as myself would have cause to wonder how she manages to avoid catching a chill, wandering the drafty chambers of the Tuilleries in little more than a glorified nightgown! The enviable if insubstantial fabric of her frock was nearly ruined by what must have been almost a bucket of water splashed on the skirt, following the regrettable trend (which Pauline no doubt started herself) of dampening the skirt so that it will cling alluringly to the leg. Despite her tawdry efforts, she no doubt achieved her aim, if her aim was to shock dowagers and cause more than one gentleman to sternly remind himself of his marital vows. Really Pauline, must you try so hard? In your constant attempts to shock, you are really turning into a bore. Leave a little mystery!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
