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Freshly Served Snapshot: A beautiful #rose! #flowersformyfollowers #ilovemothernature #Greenhat #happyhumpdayz ift.tt/1QwAyN4
Macro Mondays - Contraption
I don't know what Luigi is driving but it does look cool and fun.
Pretty sure this is a contraption.
Happy Macro Mondays
I got into what felt like a bar fight with COVID-19 Omicron; it took me two months to beat it, even with the vaccine.
Dalton: "Nobody ever wins a fight." -Roadhouse
Strobist info:
The scene was illuminated by two Nikon SB900 and a single SB700 speedlights. The SB900s were placed CL, slightly in front, and CR, slightly behind the model. They were fired in Manual mode @ 1⁄4 power (CL) and 1⁄32 power (CR) through Neewer 24" soft boxes. The SB700 was placed on the floor behind and CR with the diffuser panel deployed. It was fired in Manual mode @ 1⁄2 power.
The SB900s were triggered by PocketWizard Plus Xs; the SB700 was in SU-4 mode and triggered by the other flashes.
Lens: Nikkor 18-200 f/3.5-5.6G DX.
This doll head dates from around the 1930s. I love her enigmatic expression and I think she's beautifully painted. For once, I decided to keep my image simple and only added a miniature pink rose to keep her company. :)
Taken with Lensbaby Velvet 56.
**I am re-uploading this in celebration of the movie coming out. Although I havn't had the chance to see it yet, I'm still excited.
Also, if you're wondering why I havn't uploaded anything lately.. my computer has a virus.. or 7..**
Posted on day 40...
I am over-excited for Tim Burton's Alice in Wonderland to come out next March!
For one, as a child I loved the movie.
But, even later (around age 15) I used to watch it about 4 times a day! I had some weird obsession with it.
It is my absolute favorite Disney movie, and certainly my favorite childhood movie.
I cannot wait!
This title is a variation on Jack Nicholson's epic line from A Few Good Men. However, here he is portrayed as the Clown Prince of Crime, The Joker, from the 1989 movie, Batman. I don't quite have the wardrobe but I went for the colourful attire as best I could.
We're Here looks at Clowns today.
Happy St. Patrick's Day to all my frlickr friends! It's been so serious for the last two years, so take this day to enjoy, stay loose, it's time to have fun, but stay safe... CHEERS!
Taken in the sweet shop in Kensington Gardens, North Laine.
I think this chap works a stall outside Snoopers Paradise. The weather was filthy today, which would explain his bright outdoor gear – perfect for keeping a stall and staying dry.
Thank you Bored.of.Brighton for letting me take your portrait.
Canon EOS 5D Mark II + 50mm 1.2 L
Ok, ya'll, it is 16 degrees and snowing outside, but I went to the store and found the greenest banana's I have ever seen. After taking a few photos, I couldn't decide between this fun treatment, or just a regular green hat pose.
This is for the Flickr Group Roulette challenge of a green banana hat and for the 365 days of self-portraits. And I suppose an additional homage to Carmen Maranda.
Meredith was so excited to see me wearing this hat she came careening towards me like a tornado. I thought she was going to tumble, cartwheel, somersault or somethin'!
Today is Thanksgiving Day in Canada and this is my granddaughter Keira (1¾ years old) giving her best catwalk look. Eat your heart out Kate Moss!
We're Here looks at Family.
Yup. Not a very inspired title, but the first word that comes to mind. I made this one back in my Toronto apartment. Just window light, a bit of Lightroom tweakidge. I don't really wear hats too often, but this one happens to fit on my over-sized melon.
A yellow cord and yellow bananas seem to defy the green prevalence within this setting.
We're Here Covers our Faces today.
(more details later, as time permits)
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A year ago, I uploaded a bunch of photos to Flickr and admitted that while I had lived in New York City for 45 years — I had never previously attended, observed, photographed, or participated in the annual Halloween Parade that takes place in Greenwich Village. I won’t repeat the rest of the meandering blather that I wrote … if you would like to see it, and/or the photos that accompanied the notes, you can find them here on Flickr:
www.flickr.com/photos/yourdon/albums/72157646748393453
In any case, though, I decided to return to the parade again this year … and, like last year, I got off the subway at the Canal Street (express) station, and walked north to where the cops and the parade-floats, the bands and the professional photographers were gathering in anticipation of another year of festivity.
But I quickly discovered that, while last year’s parade started at 7 PM, when it was already cold and dark, this year’s parade was not scheduled to get started until 9 PM. I realize that 9 PM is quite an early hour for ghouls and vampires, not to mention teenagers, young adults, party-goers, and even the majority of the bridge-and-tunnel crowd who were presumably just getting in their trains and buses to make the trek from the wilderness regions of Long Island and New Jersey. But for those of us slightly (ahem) older than the age of 35, 9 PM is about the time when we turn on last night’s video-recording of Jimmy Fallon or Trevor Noah, and watch in a glassy-eyed stupor for a few minutes before we begin snoring …
So … I decided not to hang around the official starting position at Spring Street for two or three hours, and instead began wandering further north into the more crowded sections of the West Village — near West 4th Street. And I’m glad I did: while there were no bands or “fancy” displays, there was a lot more energy, and a lot of interesting costumes and people (or ghouls and vampires, depending on your preferences).
The only outcasts, far more confused and lost than the out-of-town tourists, were the cops. There were hundreds of them, maybe thousands; and this was two weeks before the recent terrorist attacks, with nobody expecting any trouble more serious than an occasional happy drunkard falling over in the street. Most of the cops that I saw were somehow affiliated with a “Community Affairs” department (or division, or whatever); but what made it funny is that none of them seemed to have a clue where they were. At one point, I stood near a friendly, attentive police officer at the corner of Sixth Avenue and 8th Street — when a tourist (sounding like he was from Germany) wandered up and asked the cop for directions to 9th Street. The cop shrugged politely and said that he really didn’t know — despite the fact that the street sign for 9th Street was clearly visible, less than a block away. I got the impression that the cops had been brought in from such far-away areas as Staten Island, Queens, and the Bronx; and while they could have navigated the neatly-rectangularized streets of mid-town Manhattan, they were utterly lost in Greenwich Village.
Oh, well, it didn’t matter. I watched one woman emerge from the subway, reassuring her clearly-terrified friend, “Don’t worry, I’ll get you back to New Jersey safely. I promise!” But she took one look at the wildly-costumed crowd around her, near the Waverly Theater, let out a loud “Woo hoo!” squeal, and left her friend behind….
In the midst of all this, I did manage to get some photos … and I’ve uploaded a small subset of them here to Flickr. Enjoy …
All ready for Halloween with 100 mini chocolate bars. I rarely get more than 20-25 kids come to the door so I'll certainly have some extras. My Halloween starts with the real little kids around 5:30 and I close it down at about 8:00pm. Don't care about the teenagers- they're too big to go trick or treating in my opinion.
Incidentally I always buy chocolate I like because... leftovers! Haha. These Nestle boxes have Aero, Kit Kat, Smarties and Coffee Crisp chocolate bars.
We're Here looks at Chocolate today.
Wally says goodbye with a viw frob the bridge above the castle down to river and town with church an all...
Shara (Strangers 9, Round 3)
Someone with a hat in the striking color green and then also with hair dyed red, I would like to take a picture of that. Shara was sitting with her boyfriend (in the photo he just ducks behind her) on the sidewalk under a canopy. There you sit dry and you can have a nice chat. I was allowed to take a picture and asked for her name: Shara. "Shara? You have to spell that, I don't know that name." “Where did your name come from?” I asked. “Yes, I don't really know, I think about a singer” she replied. That must have been a famous singer, I thought, because otherwise you wouldn't call your daughter that. Thank you Shara. This is the 9th photo of my 3rd round of the 100strangers project.
Find out more about the project and see pictures taken by other photographers at the group 100 Strangers | Flickr: www.flickr.com/groups/100strangers/
Cavendish Mews is a smart set of flats in Mayfair where flapper and modern woman, the Honourable Lettice Chetwynd has set up home after coming of age and gaining her allowance. To supplement her already generous allowance, and to break away from dependence upon her family, Lettice has established herself as a society interior designer, so her flat is decorated with a mixture of elegant antique Georgian pieces and modern Art Deco furnishings, using it as a showroom for what she can offer to her well heeled clients.
Today however we are not in Lettice’s flat. Rather we are out on London’s busy Oxford Street as Lettice and her soon-to-be-married friend Margot de Virre promenade, safely protected from the summer sunshine, beneath the striped awnings of the impressive classical façade of Selfridges department store. The two ladies plan to enjoy luncheon together in the rooftop garden restaurant before attending to some social rounds in the afternoon as part of the Season.
“Well, she sounds like a rather thrilling new client, darling!” Margot enthuses as she strolls alongside her friend. “A successful film actress!”
“We hope.” Lettice cautions wagging a gloved finger. “I don’t know how her screen test went yet.”
“You said she had presence, darling.”
“Oh she does Margot.” Lettice sighs as she looks at the passing parade of passenger faces on a red and cream double decker bus as it chugs noisily past them, belching out fumes. “She is very exuberant and her manners are rather gauche, but then she is an American, and of a rather unremarkable suburban family in Chicago who just happened to have invested in railroads at the right time.”
“You’ve done your homework then.”
“Not me, so much as Leslie.” Lettice replies as she and Margot step aside to make way for a young man in a smart grey flannel suit stepping out of a taxi pulled up to the curve. “I asked him to make some discreet enquiries with some friends in the Immigration Department.”
The ladies smile as the young man doffs his hat to them in greeting and gives them a charming smile before hurrying on his way in the opposite direction to them.
“Ah, the joys of a well-connected older brother. Hoorah for Leslie and his chums in the Immigration Department.” Margot sighs. She waits for Lettice to continue, and when for a few languid paces nothing is forthcoming from her friend she adds, “And?”
“Oh,” Lettice remarks in a slightly distracted fashion as she pauses to look in one of Selfridges giant plate glass windows, admiring a range of summer frocks in soft pastels. “Well her real name is Isadora Ward. Her parents live in a place called Highland Park, which Leslie assures me is a smart Chicago suburb. She was the tallest debutante in her coming out year and it seems the most unorthodox, wearing a dress a shade of deep pink, a colour similar to that which she wore to visit me, for her coming out gown, much to the horror of mummy, daddy and the staid Chicago social set it seems.”
“How deliciously daring!” Margot laughs. “I love your Miss Ward already. Tell me more!”
“She isn’t necessarily my Miss Ward yet, Margot. After two unsuccessful seasons of her parents attempting to marry her off to any eligible bachelor they could find, Isadora happily fled America and her parent’s shame of her remaining unmarried, to join her adventurer brother who has a club in Shanghai: The Diamond Lotus.”
“Sounds exotic!” Margot remarks.
“Rather!” Lettice agrees with a smile. “Reinvented as the songstress Wanetta Ward, she performed to full houses and was, according to Leslie’s sources, wooed by the some rather shady types from amongst Shanghai’s mobster class.”
“Thrilling!” Margot gasps. “So, she had to flee to London?”
“So it seems, Margot darling, although apparently she was blissfully unaware of her paramours’ less than salubrious backgrounds.”
“Or she turned a blind eye.”
“Or, she turned a blind eye and enjoyed the champagne, fun times and expensive gifts. She doesn’t strike me as a naive or dim-witted woman. She knows what she wants, and is going about getting it. At any rate, her brother quietly packed her off on the next boat bound for Southampton with a few letters of introduction to some fashionable fellow Americans here in London, and a suitably burgeoning bank balance, to which she adds a cache of mildly gaudy, and I imagine slightly illicit jewellery, from her would be suitors, to start a career as a cinema actress.”
“Didn’t your father ask you not to engage your skills with unsuitable characters, Lettice?”
“To be precise, Margot, he asked me to,” She opens her mouth and annunciates with overly round vowels in a mocking imitation of her titled father the Viscount, “‘be a society interior designer, but design for my own class’.” She looks to her friend with a lofty look, causing Margot to titter behind her hand.
“Oh your mother will be fit to be tied when you take this Miss Ward as your latest client after all that Mrs. Hatchett business earlier in the year.”
“If, I take her, Margot darling. I have yet to see her flat in Pimlico.”
“Mmm hmmm.” Margot muses with a knowing smile and a cocked eyebrow, returned by her friend as the two burst into peals of cheeky girlish laughter.
Smothering her laughter to try and control herself and catch her breath, Lettice finally asks Margot, “Thinking of upsetting mother, has yours finally come around to Gerald designing your wedding dress?”
“No she hasn’t. She’s still furious that I wouldn’t countenance Lucile* to make my gown. But she’s so… so…”
“Edwardian?”
“Exactly darling, and Gerald is so wonderfully modern!” Margot goes on enthusiastically.
“I know. I’ve seen your dress coming along when I’ve visited him at his flat. The asymmetrical tulle hem and that beautiful beaded bodice will make you the bride of the Season, darling.”
“Thank you, Lettice!”
“And my supper party for your engagement is promising to be one of the events of the Season.” Lettice adds proudly. “All the invitations have been dispatched, I’m borrowing some of the family silver from Wiltshire, the flower arrangements are on order, and I have Harrods catering for us. Dickie wants to be barman and make some of his famous cocktails. I can’t wait until… Oh!”
Margot watches as the happy smile fades from Lettice’s face as she sees something in the next window of Selfridges which obviously offends her in some way. Stalking over to it, Lettice stands before a smaller window, glaring at its contents with her hands placed firmly on her hips.
“Lettice darling! What is it?”
Margot gazes into the window, featuring a selection of wide brimmed straw picture hats and accessories promoted for Ascot Week**. Her friend’s disgruntled look is reflected in a ghostly way in the plate glass.
“I must speak to Madame Gwendolyn! Just look at those prices! Five pounds, nine and sixpence for that pink hat, or the yellow. I’ve paid twelve guineas for my white hat for this year’s Royal Ascot!”
“Oh come Lettice,” Margot laughs incredulously. “You can hardly compare the beautiful hats Madame Gwendolyn makes for you, to these hats for the,” She pauses whilst she tries to think of the right words. “The up-and-coming middle-classes.”
“You’ve been listening to Gerald, Margot,” Lettice scolds her friend good naturedly in a lowered tone. “You sound just like him.”
“Well, it’s true, Lettice. Your hats are all so much more striking than these: much more suitable for the Royal Enclosure. No-one else will have a hat like yours, whereas who knows how many of these there are in circulation.” Margot soothes, waving her hand dismissively at the offending millinery. “Leave these to the London parvenues.”
“Like cinema actress, Wanetta Ward?”
“Exactly!” Margot giggles. “Now, come along, darling! Let’s have luncheon and we’ll chat about what we are wearing to Ascot, Henley and Goodwood.”
“And your wedding, darling.”
“And my wedding.”
The two young women link arms and walk towards the entrance of the department store, joining countless other shoppers as they drift through the doors of Selfridges.
*Lucile – Lucy, Lady Duff Gordon was a leading British fashion designer in the late Nineteenth and early Twentieth Centuries who used the professional name Lucile. She was the originator of the “mannequin parade”, a pre-cursor to the modern fashion parade, and is reported to have been the person to first use the word “chic” which she then popularised. Lucile is also infamous for escaping the Titanic in a lifeboat designed for forty occupants with her husband and secretary and only nine other people aboard, seven being crew members.
**Royal Ascot Week is the major social calendar event held in June every year at Ascot Racecourse in Berkshire. It was founded in 1711 by Queen Anne and is attended every year by the reigning British monarch and members of the Royal Family. The event is grand and showy, with men in grey morning dress and silk toppers and ladies in their best summer frocks and most elaborate hats.
Contrary to popular belief, fashion at the beginning of the Roaring 20s did not feature the iconic cloche hat as a commonly worn head covering. Although invented by French milliner Caroline Reboux in 1908, the cloche hat did not start to gain popularity until 1922, so in 1921 when this story is set, picture hats, a hangover from the pre-war years, were still de rigueur in fashionable society. Although nowhere near as wide, heavy, voluminous or as ornate as the hats worn by women between the turn of the Twentieth Century and the Great War, the picture hats of the 1920s were still wide brimmed, although they were generally made of straw or some lightweight fabric and were decorated with a more restrained touch. For somewhere like Royal Ascot, a matching parasol, handbag or reticule and gloves to go with a lady’s chosen summer frock were essential.
Although this window display of ladies’ accessories looks very real, the fact is that the items on sale are all miniatures from my 1:12 miniatures collection.
1:12 size miniature hats made to such exacting standards of quality and realism are often far more expensive than real hats are. When you think that it would sit comfortably on the tip of your index finger, yet it could cost in excess of $150.00 or £100.00, it is an extravagance. American artists seem to have the monopoly on this skill and some of the hats that I have seen or acquired over the years are remarkable.
Fun things to look for in this tableau include:
The straw hats decorated with lace, pink ribbons and roses, and yellow ribbons and roses were made by Mrs. Denton of Muffin Lodge in the United Kingdom. Their matching parasols, also made by Mrs. Denton of Muffin Lodge, are decorated with lace and ribbons and have a toothpicks as handles with metal tops. All are hand-made artisan miniatures.
The peach straw hat with the orange and green ribbon and brown feather trim comes from Falcon Miniatures in the United States, who are renowned for their realistic 1:12 size miniatures.
The mossy green straw hat with purple roses has single stands of peacock feathers adorning it that have been hand curled. The maker is unknown, but it is part of a larger collection I bought from an American miniature collector Marilyn Bickel. Also purchased from her collection is the little hand-crocheted pale pink reticule with the tassel.
The lemon yellow purse and matching gloves are also artisan pieces and are made of kid leather and are so light and soft. They are trimmed with very fine braid and the purse has a clasp made from a piece of earring. They come from Doreen Jeffries’ Small Wonders Miniatures in the United Kingdom.
The dark wood hatstands are also 1:12 size miniatures and are of three varying heights. Made of wood, they have been stained in mahogany.
The tags with descriptions and prices I created using a 1921 mail order catalogue for ladies’ accessories.
The backdrop of the window display is “Derby Day at Epsom”, a painting by British author, painter and children’s illustrator John Strickland Goodall (1908 – 1996) taken from his picture book “An Edwardian Season” published in 1979.
The story told of a time
When a man in red and lime
Was dancing like a mime
Some said it was a crime
He said, please don't rhyme.
The man had clearly been
Brought up to wear some green
But people can be mean
So a man they said was lean
Threw a hammer with a peen.
The man in green and red
Yelled out in fearful dread
'He's thrown it at my head'
Twas the last thing that he said
'Cause it hit him now he's dead.
And everyone lived happily ever after because no one liked that guy's dancing anyway.
We're Here looks at Dance Macabre and bizarre stories to tell children.