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Inside the historic St Louis Cemetery #1, the oldest cemetery in New Orleans. We booked a tour, which is the only way to visit the cemetery after there was too much vandalism. Photography is allowed, but any video or filming has been forbidden since the 1960s. That is because in 1965, parts of the movie Easy Rider were filmed in the cemetery without permission. Dennis Hopper and Peter Fonda were shown cavorting with prostitutes and doing acid, with one of them standing on the statue of the ornate Italian Benevolent Society Tomb. After the movie was released, the Catholic Diocese wasn't all that pleased. And after watching clips of the movie, I can see why. The top of the Italian Benevolent Society Tomb can be seen in this shot, which was free of any wayward tourists doing acid by the statues. I managed to get this shot before our tour guide ended the tour and escorted us out of the cemetery.
Chastity (warfare against temptations of the flesh; deliverance from carnal passions); demons (deliverance from); fever; penitent women; reformed prostitutes; and against skin diseases.
Taking a well earned break!!!
C.CHANTAL Vintage Lingerie Outfit COUNTESS [Maitreya]
Thanks for visiting my Store! :-)
INCLUDED ITEMS:
- Tiara with Gemstones [UNRIGGED]
- Vintage Pantaloons [MAITREYA]
- Vintage Buckle Front ...
marketplace.secondlife.com/p/CCHANTAL-Vintage-Lingerie-Ou...
il Sodoma (Giovanni Antonio Bazzi) 1477-1549 - Florenzo sends prostitutes to monastery
il Sodoma (Giovanni Antonio Bazzi) 1477-1549 - Florent envoie des prostituées au monastère
Le Storie di san Benedetto di Monte Oliveto Maggiore sono un ciclo di affreschi nel Chiostro Grande dell'Abbazia di Monte Oliveto Maggiore (comune di Asciano, Siena), realizzati da Luca Signorelli (otto lunette), che vi lavorò dal 1497 al 1498, e dal Sodoma, che completò il ciclo dopo il 1505 con le ventisei lunette mancanti. Una (Benedetto manda Mauro in Francia e Placido in Sicilia) venne ridipinta dal Riccio.
Si tratta di una delle più complete descrizioni della vita di san Benedetto, ben trentacinque scene, che si basano sul racconto di san Gregorio Magno.
Stories of St. Benedict of Monte Oliveto Maggiore are a series of frescoes in the Great Cloister of the Abbey of Monte Oliveto Maggiore (town of Asciano, Siena), made by Luca Signorelli (eight lunettes), who worked there from 1497 to 1498, and Sodoma, who completed the cycle after 1505 with the twenty-six lunettes missing. A (Benedict sends Mauro in France and Placido in Sicily) was repainted by Riccio.
It is one of the most complete descriptions of the life of St. Benedict, thirty-five scenes, which are based on the story of St. Gregory the Great.
Les épisodes de la Vie de saint Benoît de Monte Oliveto Maggiore composent un cycle de fresques du cloître principal de l'abbaye bénédictine de Monte Oliveto Maggiore (commune d'Asciano, dans la province de Sienne), réalisé par Luca Signorelli (huit fresques), qui y travailla de 1497 à 1498, et par Le Sodoma, qui compléta le cycle à partir de 1505 avec les vingt-six fresques manquantes. Une scène (Benoît envoie Maur en France et Placide en Sicile) a été repeinte par Riccio.
Il s'agit de la description picturale la plus complète de la vie de saint Benoît de Nursie (né vers 480-490, mort en 547), composée au total de trente-cinq scènes basées sur le récit du pape Grégoire le Grand.
La vie de Benoît se déroule entre les derniers soubresauts de l'Empire romain d'Occident et les invasions barbares, fournissant à l'imagination des peintres qui l'ont mise en scène un fond historique stimulant et bariolé.
(wikipedia)
On a street in a neighborhood
Where some prostitutes
Waiting nonchalantly
The passage of a customer
I saw in the shadows
An old man who was leaving
He was walking towards his grave
By dragging his secrets...
(A. Girard)
++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
Dans une rue d'un quartier
Où quelques prostituées
Attendent nonchallement
Le passage d'un client
J'ai apercu dans l'ombre
Un vieux qui s'en allait
Il marchait vers sa tombe
En trainant ses secrets...
(A. Girard)
Now features on "Leeds By Night" vid
www.youtube.com/watch?v=_c_6KJV_6Ek
On this occasion I fell for the wily charms of a local prostitute. She asked for two quid for chips and a coffee whilst I asked for some photos for posterity in exchange! Not only is she a prostitute by profession but in this instance an Officer of Fair Trade ;O)
Despite her seemingly lax approach she is not unwise to the prying eyes of CCTV in the vicinity and does her best to avoid them whilst working.
Although local vice in the Holbeck/Sovereign Street area can be the object of scorn, I find the experience of meeting them, for some reason, personally upsetting!
But disregarding these observations, she seems happy in herself and agreed she is a part of local history as is any other tradesperson within Leeds.
The term dominatrix is mostly used to describe a female professional dominant (or "pro-domme") who is paid to engage in BDSM play with a submissive. Professional dominatrices are not prostitutes, despite the sensual and erotic interactions she has. An appointment or roleplay is referred to as a "session", and is often conducted in a dedicated professional play space which has been set up with specialist equipment, known as a "dungeon". Sessions may also be conducted remotely by letter or telephone, or in the contemporary era of technological connectivity by email or online chat. Most, but not all, clients of female professional dominants are men. Male or t-girl professional dominants also exist, catering predominantly to the t-girl market.
Some professional dominatrices set minimum age limits for their clients. Popular requests from clients are for dungeon play including bondage , spanking and cock and ball torture , or for medical play using hoods, gas masks and urethral sounding . Verbal erotic humiliation , such as small penis humiliation , is also popular. It is not unusual for a dominatrix to consider her profession different from that of an escort and not perform tie and tease or " happy endings ". Typically professional dominatrices do not have sexual intercourse with their clients, do not become naked with their clients and do not allow their clients to touch them. Bondage itself does not necessarily imply sadomasochism . Bondage may be used as an end in itself, as in the case of rope bondage and breast bondage . It may also be used as a part of sex or in conjunction with other BDSM activities. The letter "B" in the acronym "BDSM" comes from the word "bondage". Sexuality and erotica are an important aspect in bondage, but are often not the end in itself.
“Come here, Boys!!!”
As both a working prostitute myself, and a Madame controlling the activities of other working girls, the image presented to the world by The Salon is very important to me. I am a businesswoman first and foremost, and in business the customer is King. And in our chosen profession, we have to find ways of overcoming the inhibitions some of our potential clientele may have about paying for sex – even if it is sex with beautiful, sophisticated and aristocratic ladies!
I organize regular shoots with top photographers, so that my girls are always depicted in the latest fashions and look as chic as possible – like extremely tarty supermodels! Some of these shoots are consciously “vanilla” – presenting my posh ladies as glamorous escorts, who can be safely taken to any social occasion without fear of embarrassment. Clients have invited my snooty sluts to royal garden parties, embassy receptions, and media award ceremonies - without ever incurring problems!
Then there are other photoshoots – the explicit ones. For these, I employ some of the top filth-meisters on the planet: Peter Gunn, Chad Bronco, and even the notorious Max Kink. My girls are not exactly shy, and the material that emerges from these shoots would make a sailor blush. In fact, from my photo-shoots to promote the services of my snobby and aristocratic whores, has evolved the entire genre of “posh porn” – something which my ex-husband Lord Lyndon (now Lady Lucille Dexter!) has done so much to promote! Conversely, leading “Posh Porn” stars such as Lady Lavinia Baverstock regularly drop by The Salon to keep in practice as high-class hookers. That’s synergy for you…!
Toodle Pip!
Love and Kisses to All!
xxxxx
Lady Rebecca Georgina Arabella Lyndon
Duchesse de la Baleine D’Or
If I divorce my current husband Lord Lyndon and marry Le Du de D'Or Baleine, my chief role will be as his sex object and trophy wife.
I have informed Le Duc that - if married to him - I will definitely continue to pursue my career as a high-class escort and Madame. I am very happy to report that - like almost all men I have known - Le Duc is completely fascinated and thrilled by the idea of being married to an extremely expensive prostitute! It seems that this particular erotic fantasy is common to almost all men - from whatever station in society they may come!
Toodle Pip!
Love and Kisses to All!
xxxxxxx
Lady Rebecca Georgina Arabella Lyndon
Duchess of Basingstoke
“Well, Lord Monkhouse, I’m back working at The Salon! Do you want to take advantage of me, while I am available to you? I am a thoroughly corrupted woman...”
***
I spent last weekend catching up on developments at Lyndon Towers, after my long absence on Honeymoon. I spent a very enjoyable couple of nights sharing my bed with my housekeeper - the wonderful Mrs Danvers - and also had lunch with my ex-husband, now known as Lady Lucille Dexter. ‘Lulu’ is relishing married life with Sir Charles Dexter, who is already pimping her out to his friends and business contacts. Both parties are delighted with this arrangement. Over her salade niçoise and white wine, Lulu explained just how happy and fulfilled she feels in her new life as an aristocratic harlot and hotwife!!
I also managed to squeeze in coffee with the amazing Ms Rita Brasshouse from the West Hampshire and Test Valley Women’s Institute, who (as you will have read here) has successfully transformed our local W.I. into a Female Supremacist Prostitutes Collective. Rita is also in the process of fully feminizing her own husband: he now typically wears a modest housedress over pretty slips, pantyhose and practical low-heeled shoes. This former truck-driving male now happily cooks and cleans for Ms Rita, and waits obediently on her younger boyfriends when they drop by for recreational sex. Rita does not permit her husband to leave the house unless wearing feminine attire. We exchanged some fascinating confidences about how to organize and control a modern female-led relationship!
Toodle Pip!
Love and Kisses to All My Friends and Fans¬
xxxxx
Lady Rebecca Lyndon
Duchess de La Baleine D’Or
As you are probably aware, a working prostitute receives endless offers of marriage. In a way, I think we represent the male ideal of what a wife should be: sexually experienced, non-judgemental, practical, worldly-wise, unshockable – and good with money. We can provide the support and advice that men so desperately crave. And – of course – we know how to dress to please and arouse the male of the species, and so we make ideal trophy wives.
Since the sudden death of my husband Le Duc de D’Or Baleine, I have received numerous offers to tie the knot in what would be my third marriage. I suppose marriage becomes more routine as one becomes more experienced in it. I turned the Earl of Bartleby down flat last week, when he popped the question - and I guess I was just a little bit hurtful. “I expect my next husband to be a wealthy man, Your Lordship” I quipped. “So, ask me again – when you qualify…!”
The Duke of Burgundy is also – I think – working up to propose to me. As one of the wealthiest men in Europe, he is more of a serious prospect. Lying in bed together after a bout of what passes for sex in men of his age, the Duke brought up the intriguing possibility of uniting his vast estates and investments in France and elsewhere with the humungous financial assets I am in the process of inheriting from my late husband Le Duc.
What do you all think? How long should I leave it, before getting hitched once again? Let me add, the Duke of Burgundy is mega-wealthy, and almost 80 years old…(!!!)
Toodle Pip!
Love and Kisses to All!
xxxxx
Lady Rebecca Georgina Arabella Lyndon
Avenir Duchesse de Bourgogne…?
No they're not actually prostitutes though the girl with her back to the camera was displaying an impressive amount of cleavage.
Regular readers will know I've been getting the itch to shoot people again (although the model I had lined up for this appears to have thrown a tantrum and gone nuts) and simply walking past these two, trussed up like an idiot with tripods and bags, stopping and turning back and firing off one frame made the hairs on my neck tingle. I love, absolutely adore, photographing people. :-D
Please lord above, if you're listening, may I find willing volunteers for my camera, may I not run into more immature models with attitude problems, may I meet half of my Flickr peeps and shoot them. Oh and may I win the lottery please! *Not listening lord? Damn!* :-(
Its easy, but I could not resist this sign
In Explore somewhere 29 November 2007. Eek! No. 2 on 29 November 07. This is now my most popular photo, thanks to all your views, links, comments and faves, it would not be possible without you, dear visitors.
Hana Mursi,south Ethiopia, in the only "hotel" available. In fact a brothel. As thousands of workers are sent in the Omo area by governments for giant plantations, prostitutes are also coming, and start to transmit AIDS and hepatitis to the local tribes. I met a local doctor who has started to test the tribes, and the first results are catastrophic... As the tribes still make scarifications as body decorations, sharing used razor blades, you can imagine what happens.
Miss Saganash , on the picture asks 20 us dollars for a night, or 5 us dollars for 15 minutes.
© Eric Lafforgue
il Sodoma (Giovanni Antonio Bazzi) 1477-1549 - Florenzo sends prostitutes to monastery
il Sodoma (Giovanni Antonio Bazzi) 1477-1549 - Florent envoie des prostituées au monastère
Le Storie di san Benedetto di Monte Oliveto Maggiore sono un ciclo di affreschi nel Chiostro Grande dell'Abbazia di Monte Oliveto Maggiore (comune di Asciano, Siena), realizzati da Luca Signorelli (otto lunette), che vi lavorò dal 1497 al 1498, e dal Sodoma, che completò il ciclo dopo il 1505 con le ventisei lunette mancanti. Una (Benedetto manda Mauro in Francia e Placido in Sicilia) venne ridipinta dal Riccio.
Si tratta di una delle più complete descrizioni della vita di san Benedetto, ben trentacinque scene, che si basano sul racconto di san Gregorio Magno.
Stories of St. Benedict of Monte Oliveto Maggiore are a series of frescoes in the Great Cloister of the Abbey of Monte Oliveto Maggiore (town of Asciano, Siena), made by Luca Signorelli (eight lunettes), who worked there from 1497 to 1498, and Sodoma, who completed the cycle after 1505 with the twenty-six lunettes missing. A (Benedict sends Mauro in France and Placido in Sicily) was repainted by Riccio.
It is one of the most complete descriptions of the life of St. Benedict, thirty-five scenes, which are based on the story of St. Gregory the Great.
Les épisodes de la Vie de saint Benoît de Monte Oliveto Maggiore composent un cycle de fresques du cloître principal de l'abbaye bénédictine de Monte Oliveto Maggiore (commune d'Asciano, dans la province de Sienne), réalisé par Luca Signorelli (huit fresques), qui y travailla de 1497 à 1498, et par Le Sodoma, qui compléta le cycle à partir de 1505 avec les vingt-six fresques manquantes. Une scène (Benoît envoie Maur en France et Placide en Sicile) a été repeinte par Riccio.
Il s'agit de la description picturale la plus complète de la vie de saint Benoît de Nursie (né vers 480-490, mort en 547), composée au total de trente-cinq scènes basées sur le récit du pape Grégoire le Grand1.
La vie de Benoît se déroule entre les derniers soubresauts de l'Empire romain d'Occident et les invasions barbares, fournissant à l'imagination des peintres qui l'ont mise en scène un fond historique stimulant et bariolé.
(wikipedia)
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 at Cavendish Mews. We have travelled east across London, through Bloomsbury, past the Smithfield Meat Markets, beyond the Petticoat Lane Markets* frequented by Lettice’s maid, Edith, through the East End boroughs of Bethnal Green and Bow, and through the 1880s housing development of Upton Park, to East Ham. It is here that we have followed Edith and her beau, grocery delivery boy Frank, to the Premier Super Cinema**, where, just before Christmas, Edith is being treated to her festive season gift from Frank.
The pair of lovers stand in the warmth of the cinema’s foyer, which as well as being a welcome place of warmth after the December chill of the journey up the High Street from the East Ham railway station, it is also brightly lit and cheerful. The cinema, renovated the previous year, isn’t called a picture palace for nothing, and no expense has been spared with thick red wall-to-wall carpets covering the floors and brightly coloured up-to-date Art Deco wallpaper covering the walls.
“And did Mrs. Boothby’s son like the book you gave him?” Frank asks his sweetheart.
Several months ago, Edith met Lettice’s Cockney charwoman*** Mrs. Boothby’s son, a forty-two year old man who is a sweet and gentle giant with the aptitude of a six year old, when Mrs. Boothby sold her a good quality second-hand hand treadle sewing machine. The old Cockney woman found it easier not to mention that she has a son, not because she is ashamed of him, but because not everyone outside of her Poplar neighbourhood would understand her wanting to keep and raise a child with such difficulties. Mrs. Boothby took Edith into her confidence by introducing her to her son, Ken, so aside from Frank, Edith hasn’t told anyone about Ken’s existence, not even her best friend Hilda. Several weeks ago, she bough Ken a copy of Beatrix Potter’s ‘The Tale of Benjamin Bunny’ from Selfridge’s as a Christmas gift because she discovered after meeting him how much he likes rabbits.
“Oh yes Frank! He loved it! He had me read it to him twice over when I visited Mrs. Boothby’s house for tea last Sunday. I think Mrs. Boothby was very touched that I should think of Ken at Christmas time. But why shouldn’t I? After all, if it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t have a beautiful new sewing machine to whip up frocks on. He’s ever such a sweet soul. No wonder he is known as the gentle giant of Poplar.”
“That’s my girl,” Franks says proudly. “Generous to, and thoughtful of others.”
“Oh Frank!” Edith blushes at the compliment.
“I have to say that you’re looking every inch a lady, like your Miss Chetwynd, Edith,” Frank says as he admires the companion on his arm, dressed smartly in her three-quarter length black winter coat and purple rose and black feather decorated straw hat. “Far too grand for the likes of me.”
“Oh nonsense, Frank!” Edith scoffs in reply. “I’m not wearing anything new. My coat came from a Petticoat Lane second-hand clothes stall.” She gathers the hem in her black glove clad hand. “I picked it up dead cheap and remodelled it myself. The hat I decorated with bits and bobs I picked up from Mrs. Minkin’s down in Whitechapel.”
“Well, with that fancy new bag of yours,” He points to her snakeskin handbag with the gold chain slung over her wrist. “You look like you could afford to buy every seat in the cinema.”
“Oh, get away with you Frank!” Edith playfully slaps his arm with her left hand, before winding her right arm more tightly through his left arm and snuggling closer against his shoulder. “It’s second hand from Petticoat Lane too.” She pauses for a moment before continuing. “Mind you, I did buy it because I really wanted one like Miss Lettice’s.”
“That’s my girl, bettering herself all the time.” Frank says proudly.
“But not enough to better myself from you, Frank Leadbetter.” she coos softly in return.
“I just wish I could have afforded to buy you a better Christmas gift, Edith.”
“What?” Edith cries. “A slap up tea at Lyons Corner House**** on Tottenham Court Road, some delicious Gainsborough Dubarry Milk Chocolates*****,” She pats the side of her handbag in which the chocolates sit. “And a trip to the pictures! What more could a girl ask for, for Christmas?”
“I’d have liked to have got you something proper though Edith.”
“Like what?”
“Like a nice brooch or something.” Frank admits with a disappointed tone in his voice. “A girl like you deserves a nice piece of jewellery from her chap.”
“I don’t need any jewellery from you, Frank.” Edith assures him. “You give me all I need.” She gives his arm a gentle squeeze, eliciting a blush from the young man. “I’d much rather you save your pennies than spend them on unnecessary frippery for me.”
“It’s not frippery when we’re talking about you, Edith.” Frank mutters.
“Yes, it is, when you’re talking about wanting to move away from your current lodging house, Frank. Aren’t you always complaining to me about how it smells of boiled cabbage, and that your landlady who won’t allow any of you to have lady callers even visit and sit in the parlour with her as chaperone?”
“You wouldn’t want to sit in Mrs. Chapman’s front parlour, believe me!” Frank assures her with raised eyebrows. “Between the stink of cabbage, the sticky oil cloth on the tea table and the miserly amount of coal she ever puts on the fire, it’s not a welcoming place.”
“Well then, Frank Leadbetter! All the better you save your pennies and move to a different house with a nicer landlady who doesn’t cook cabbage, does put coals on the fire, and welcomes visitors.”
“I might need a better paying job for that.” Frank admits. “But I’m hoping that Mr. Willison might give me an increase to my wages in the new year. I’ve been doing more for him, ever since Mrs. Willison became poorly after catching pneumonia last month and she’s had to rest at home, and he’s been spending more time at home taking care of her.”
“That’d be good, Frank.”
“I know! I’ve taken on a lot more duties and been a real help. Mr. Willison even said so not last week.”
“Well, I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you, Frank.”
“Just think, if I did get an increase in my wages, I could afford to buy you a nice piece of jewellery, Edith.”
“Now don’t go spending it before you get it, Frank.” Edith scolds her beau, not unkindly. “Come on. Let’s decide what we’re going to see.”
The pair of lovers scan the brightly coloured posters plastered across the walls. Rudolph Valentino looks smoulderingly into the eyes of Nita Naldi as he holds her dramatically in his arms in an advertisement for ‘Blood and Sand’******. Marion Davies looks sombre yet beautifully aristocratic draped in jewels as Mary Tudor in ‘When Knighthood was in Flower’*******. John Bowers looks grimly down upon them as he holds Madge Bellamy to his side in an advertisement for ‘Lorna Doone’********.
“Look at this, Frank!” Edith gasps, pointing to a stand upon which is advertised another film.
“The Gipsy Cavalier*********,” Frank reads aloud the title printed in red script on the promotional lobby poster. “It looks like a lavish production.” he adds as he scans the images in the poster.
“It’s made here in England,” Edith says excitedly as she scans the credit information in fine print at the bottom of the poster. “So it might star Wanetta Ward!”
“Didn’t you tell me that she works for Islington Studios**********, Edith, not Vitagraph***********.”
“Well, she’s a big star here now, so she may work for several studios. Can we see this, please Frank?”
“Well,” Frank replies. “This is your Christmas gift, so of course we can see it.”
A short while later, the pair mill about the brightly illuminated foyer along with a handful of other patrons outside the cinema door, waiting for the film currently showing to end. Eventually, the double doors open and with the voluble burble of cheerful chatter, people begin to file out the door in pairs or small groups. Edith and Frank stand aside, next to the board advertising The Gipsy Cavalier to let them pass. Amongst them are two girls around the same age as Edith, one slender with a hard face and angular features in a moss green coat and black cloche hat, and her companion, a dark haired, rather pale, and doughy girl in a dark brown coat and matching cloche. At the sight of Frank and Edith the larger girl comes to a sudden halt, pulling up her thinner friend with whom she has linked her arm, their animated conversation ceasing as the thinner one turns to see what her friend has stopped for.
“Frank Leadbetter!” the doughy girl says, her face hardening as she puts her hands featuring pale fingers that look like uncooked sausages on her heavy hips defiantly. “You’ve got some cheek showing your face around here.”
“Oh, give over Vi!” Frank says, placing his arms akimbo across his chest in defence of her sharp words.
Noticing Edith standing next to Frank, her arm entwined with his, Vi’s dark eyes grow cold as she looks her up and down. “So, this is who you threw me over for, is it? A cook’s assistant not good enough for you? You want some skinny tart who looks better in a skirt and hat than I do, eh?”
Edith is taken aback by this strange girl’s rough language and vehemence towards her. Having never been called something so horrible before, she blanches at the insult and tightens her grip around Frank’s arm, too afraid to say anything in her defence.
Around them, patrons murmur and mutter disgruntledly, suddenly alerted to the altercation by the girl’s vulgar word cutting through the conviviality and joviality of the theatre foyer like a knife.
“You better watch your mouth, Vi.” Frank growls back warningly in a deep voice. “This here is a lady,” He untwines his arm from Edith, but them wraps his arm protectively around her shoulder, pulling her closer to him in a chivalrous gesture. “Which judging by the way you are addressing her, you most definitely are not. Sounds like you’ve been hanging around pub corners a bit too much on your afternoons off, Vi.”
“Where I hang round on my afternoons off is none of your business, Frank Leadbetter!” Vi spits back bitterly, her whole body edging forward menacingly.
“You’re right there, Vi,” Frank agrees with a snort. “I don’t care what rocks you crawl under. I never promised you anything.”
“You’re just saying that, ‘cos she’s here!” Vi acknowledges Edith with a curt nod in her direction and a sneer of revulsion.
Edith shrinks further back into Frank, but doesn’t say anything as she wraps her hands around her snakeskin handbag.
More murmuring goes on around them as interest in the argument picks up amongst the other people waiting to enter the cinema, an electric undercurrent of excitement filling some, whilst others peer over at the quartet with unveiled interest.
“Say what you like, Vi, but you’re the one who wanted to walk out with me.” Frank replies bravely. “I never wanted to step out with you, and I didn’t. Whereas,” He turns his head and looks down with a proud smile at Edith. “This is my girl, and I am stepping out with her.”
“You’re a liar Frank Leadbetter!” Vi spits viciously. “I know I meant something to you.”
“Only in your mind, Vi.” he recounters.
“Come, Vi,” her thin friend mutters, tugging on her arm. Looking both Frank and Edith up and down quickly with a look of disgust, she adds, “He’s not worth it.”
Reluctantly, the larger girl reneges and recants, walking away with her friend, their two heads together muttering as they go.
“Alright ladies and gents,” Frank announces to those who have been standing around watching his argument with Vi. “The real show is about start.” He looks down at Edith. “Shall we?”
Frank escorts Edith through the crowd of chattering cinema goers and they go to their seats.
Inside the dimly lit theatre a fug of cigarette smoke fills the auditorium. The place is filled with the faint traces of various perfumes, which mix with the stronger traces of cigarettes, fried food, and body odour. Around them quiet chatter and the occasional burst of a cough resound. It feels cosy and safe. At the front of the theatre, in a pit below the screen, a middle aged woman in an old fashioned Edwardian gown with an equally outmoded upswept hairdo that wet out of fashion before the war plays an upright piano with enthusiasm, dramatically banging out palm court music for the audience before the beginning of the feature.
Settling in their plush red velvet seats in the middle of the auditorium, Frank tentatively puts his arm around Edith’s shoulder. “You do know that I was telling the truth back there, don’t you, Edith?” Frank asks nervously. He looks to see Edith’s face, but it is obscured by the feather and flower decorated brim of her black straw hat.
“Oh I know you wouldn’t lie to me,” comes her soft reply. “But who was she, Frank?”
“Vi,” he sighs. “Vi used to work as a cook’s assistant, well a glorified kitchen maid really, for the house of an earl in Pimlico. I used to do deliveries there for Mr. Willison, and she’d be loitering around the kitchen door, smoking a Woodbine************ waiting for me. She was nice at first. I had fun chatting with her – nothing intimate mind you – just a how do you do and a passing of the day. I sensed she was lonely and perhaps didn’t have many friends amongst the staff of the house. Then Vi took a fancy to me and wanted me to step out with her, but I wouldn’t.”
Turning her head towards him, Frank can see tears glistening in Edith’s blue eyes as they gather there. “She said the most horrible thing to me.”
“Oh, please don’t let her spoil my Christmas present to you, Edith.” Frank pleads. “She isn’t worth a second thought, much less one of your tears. Honestly!” He pauses for a moment before continuing his story. “Vi grew more and more insistent with her propositions. She made some rather lewd and vulgar suggestions, all unwarranted and as you saw, she can be a bit intimidating. Eventually, it got so uncomfortable for me that I complained to Mr. Willison, and then one day when I went to deliver groceries she wasn’t there anymore. I heard from the house’s hall boy************* that she’d upped and done a flit in the night after some kerfuffle with the cook – not an uncommon thing apparently owing to Vi’s rather fiery temper. I never saw her again until just before.”
“Well,” Edith says shakily, dabbing her eyes with a white lace trimmed handkerchief she pulls from the confines of her snakeskin purse. “Thank you for calling me a lady, and for being so chivalrous, Frank. That meant a great deal to me back there.”
“Of course I’ll defend you, Edith, and call you a lady, because you are a lady. You’re my lady.” Frank pauses and removes his arm from about Edith before looking down earnestly at her. “That is, if you still want to be my lady.”
Edith’s heart melts at the mixture of fear and hope that sculpt the young man’s features in the dim golden light of the picture theatre.
“Put your arm back, Frank.” she says softly, with a gentle smile. “Of course I want to be your lady. I know how much courage it took for you to ask me to step out with you. So, if that awfully overbearing woman was so racy as to proposition you, I know you would never have said yes to walking out with her. That’s why I like you, Frank. You aren’t like so many other men. You’re a gentleman, and a gentle man. You’re kind and considerate and unlike so many other men who only want one thing from a girl.” She flushes at the mention of it.
“Goodness!” gasps Frank as he returns his arm to drape around Edith’s shoulders. “Thanks awfully, Edith.”
“Best of all, Frank, you showed me that I could find love again. After Bert died in the war, and with so many young men our age killed, I never thought I’d be lucky enough to meet someone again.”
“Do you mean that, Edith?” Frank breathes. “Truly?”
“Yes, of course I do, Frank. I wouldn’t lie to you any more than you would to me. Why do you ask?”
“Well, because you’re really the only girl I’ve ever felt this way about, so it’s rather jolly that you should feel the same way about me.” He smiles broadly across at her.
“Well, that’s the best Christmas present you could ever give me, Frank. That means more to me than any tea at Lyon’s, or trips to the pictures, or any jewellery that you could give me.”
“Thank you Edith.”
Edith reaches into her bag and withdraws the box of chocolates Frank gave her at the beginning of the evening when they met outside the Lyon’s Corner House on Tottenham Court Road. Opening it, she holds the box of brightly foil wrapped sweets out to Frank. “Here, have a Dubarry milk chocolate, Frank.”
As the lights in the picture theatre start to dim, Frank turns to Edith.
“I do love you, you know, Edith.” he whispers.
“I know Frank,” she whispers in reply. “I love you too.”
Behind them the projector whirrs and suddenly the screen is illuminated in blinding, brilliant white as the pianist in the pit below the screen starts to play the dramatic opening bars to the music to accompany The Gipsy Cavalier.
*Petticoat Lane Market is a fashion and clothing market in Spitalfields, London. It consists of two adjacent street markets. Wentworth Street Market and Middlesex Street Market. Originally populated by Huguenots fleeing persecution in France, Spitalfields became a center for weaving, embroidery and dying. From 1882, a wave of Jewish immigrants fleeing persecution in eastern Europe settled in the area and Spitalfields then became the true heart of the clothing manufacturing district of London. 'The Lane' was always renowned for the 'patter' and showmanship of the market traders. It was also known for being a haven for the unsavoury characters of London’s underworld and was rife with prostitutes during the late Victorian era. Unpopular with the authorities, as it was largely unregulated and in some sense illegal, as recently as the 1930s, police cars and fire engines were driven down ‘The Lane’, with alarm bells ringing, to disrupt the market.
**The Premier Super Cinema in East Ham was opened on the 12th of March, 1921, replacing the 800 seat capacity 1912 Premier Electric Theatre. The new cinema could seat 2,408 patrons. The Premier Super Cinema was taken over by Provincial Cinematograph Theatres who were taken over by Gaumont British in February 1929. It was renamed the Gaumont from 21st April 1952. The Gaumont was closed by the Rank Organisation on 6th April 1963. After that it became a bingo hall and remained so until 2005. Despite attempts to have it listed as a historic building due to its relatively intact 1921 interior, the Gaumont was demolished in 2009.
***A charwoman, chargirl, or char, jokingly charlady, is an old-fashioned occupational term, referring to a paid part-time worker who comes into a house or other building to clean it for a few hours of a day or week, as opposed to a maid, who usually lives as part of the household within the structure of domestic service. In the 1920s, chars usually did all the hard graft work that paid live-in domestics would no longer do as they looked for excuses to leave domestic service for better paying work in offices and factories.
****J. Lyons and Co. was a British restaurant chain, food manufacturing, and hotel conglomerate founded in 1884 by Joseph Lyons and his brothers in law, Isidore and Montague Gluckstein. Lyons’ first teashop opened in Piccadilly in 1894, and from 1909 they developed into a chain of teashops, with the firm becoming a staple of the High Street in the United Kingdom. At its peak the chain numbered around two hundred cafes. The teashops provided for tea and coffee, with food choices consisting of hot dishes and sweets, cold dishes and sweets, and buns, cakes and rolls. Lyons' Corner Houses, which first appeared in 1909 and remained until 1977, were noted for their Art Deco style. Situated on or near the corners of Coventry Street, Strand and Tottenham Court Road, they and the Maison Lyonses at Marble Arch and in Shaftesbury Avenue were large buildings on four or five floors, the ground floor of which was a food hall with counters for delicatessen, sweets and chocolates, cakes, fruit, flowers and other products. In addition, they possessed hairdressing salons, telephone booths, theatre booking agencies and at one period a twice-a-day food delivery service. On the other floors were several restaurants, each with a different theme and all with their own musicians. For a time, the Corner Houses were open twenty-four hours a day, and at their peak each branch employed around four hundred staff including their famous waitresses, commonly known as Nippies for the way they nipped in and out between the tables taking orders and serving meals. The tea houses featured window displays, and, in the post-war period, the Corner Houses were smarter and grander than the local tea shops. Between 1896 and 1965 Lyons owned the Trocadero, which was similar in size and style to the Corner Houses.
*****Although packaged in a purple of the box the same colour as Cadbury’s trademark purple, Gainsborough’s Dubarry range of milk chocolates were not marketed as Cadbury’s, but rather Gainsborough’s, paying tribute to the market town of Gainsborough in Lincolnshire, where Rose Bothers manufactured and supplied machines that wrapped chocolates. The Rose Brothers are the people for whom Cadbury’s Roses chocolates are named.
******Blood and Sand is a 1922 American silent drama film produced by Paramount Pictures, directed by Fred Niblo and starring Rudolph Valentino, Lila Lee, and Nita Naldi. It was based on the 1909 Spanish novel Sangre y arena (Blood and Sand) by Vicente Blasco Ibáñez and the play version of the book by Thomas Cushing.
*******When Knighthood Was in Flower is a 1922 American silent historical film about the romantic travails of Mary Tudor directed by Robert G. Vignola, based on the novel by Charles Major and play by Paul Kester. The film was produced by William Randolph Hearst (through his Cosmopolitan Productions) for Marion Davies and distributed by Paramount Pictures. This was William Powell's second film.
********Lorna Doone is a 1922 American silent drama film based upon Richard Doddridge Blackmore's 1869 novel of the same name. Directed by French director Maurice Tourneur in the United States, the film starred Madge Bellamy and John Bowers.
*********A Gipsy Cavalier is a 1922 British historical drama film directed by J. Stuart Blackton and starring Georges Carpentier, Flora le Breton and Rex McDougall. It was one of three films made in Britain during the early 1920s by the British-born American founder of Vitagraph Studios. All involved elaborate sets, costumes and extras and set an example of showmanship to emerging British filmmakers. It was adapted from the novel My Lady April by John Overton.
**********Islington Studios, often known as Gainsborough Studios, were a British film studio located on the south bank of the Regent's Canal, in Poole Street, Hoxton in Shoreditch, London which began operation in 1919. By 1920 they had a two stage studio. It is here that Alfred Hitchcock made his entrée into films.
***********Vitagraph Studios, also known as the Vitagraph Company of America, was a United States motion picture studio. It was founded by J. Stuart Blackton and Albert E. Smith in 1897 in Brooklyn, New York, as the American Vitagraph Company. By 1907, it was the most prolific American film production company, producing many famous silent films.[1] It was bought by Warner Bros. in 1925.
************Woodbine was a brand of cigarettes launched in 1888 by W.D. and H.O. Wills. Noted for its strong unfiltered cigarettes, the brand was cheap and popular in the early Twentieth Century with the working-class, as well as with army men during the Great War and the Second World War. In the Great War, the British Army chaplain Geoffrey Studdert Kennedy MC was affectionately nicknamed "Woodbine Willie" by troops on the Western Front to whom he handed out cigarettes along with Bibles and spiritual comfort. The intricate nineteenth century packet design remained current until the mid 1960s. Although Wills changed the packaging, Woodbine sales continued to drop. In common parlance, the unfiltered high-tar Woodbine was one of the brands collectively known as "gaspers" until about 1950, because new smokers found their harsh smoke difficult to inhale. A filtered version was launched in the United Kingdom in 1948, but was discontinued in 1988. Woodbines came in four different packs: five cigarettes, ten cigarettes, twenty cigarettes and fifty cigarettes.
*************The hall boy or hallboy was a the lowest ranked male domestic position held by a young male worker on the staff of a great house, usually a young teenager. The name derives from the fact that the hall boy usually slept in the servants' hall.
This beautiful Art Deco cinema interior is not all it appears to be, for it is made up entirely with pieces from my miniatures collection.
Fun things to look for in this tableau include:
The posters around the cinema walls were all sourced by me and reproduced in high quality colour and print. “The Gipsy Cavalier” board is the only one I have created myself rather than printing an existing poster because there are no posters that I can find in the public domain for it. However all the images used in it, including the film reel images to either side of the main photo are all stills from the film, and the central image is a publicity shot for the film.
The chrome Art Deco smoker’s stand is a Shackman miniature from the 1970s and is quite rare. I bought it from a dealer in America via E-Bay.
The easel, table , vase of flowers and two flounced red velvet chairs all come from Kathleen Knight’s Doll’s House in the United Kingdom.
The geometric Art Deco wallpaper is beautiful hand impressed paper given to me by a friend, who did so in the hope that I would find a use for it in the “Cavendish Mews – Lettice Chetwynd” series.
The thick and bright red carpet is in fact a placemat which I appropriated in the late 1970s to use as a carpet for my growing miniatures collection. Luckily I was never asked to return it, and the rest of the set is long gone!
Colorized from the vintage silver print by William I. Goldman, taken at Sallie Shearer's brothel, Reading, Pennsylvania, USA, sometime between 1892 and 1900. Like it or not, this is part of life, history, and Americana.
Sarah D. "Sallie" Shearer (née Fisher; 1848 – 1 October 1909) was an American brothel-keeper in Reading, Pennsylvania. She married the artist Christopher Shearer who abandoned her and their sons to study in Europe, and whom she subsequently divorced. In 1880 she was working as a dressmaker but by 1883 she was working in the sex business and eventually opened a high-class "parlor house" (brothel) of her own.
Despite frequent brushes with the law and serving at least one jail sentence, she was financially successful and able to buy property and keep a fancy carriage. In the 1890s, the women of her house were the subjects of a secret collection of photographs made by local photographer William Goldman that was published in book form in 2018. She died of diabetes and was buried in a lavish casket at the Lutheran cemetery in Reading.
She solicited me for sex.
In a rich country, state and city, it's fucked up that a person like her, who was easily in her 60s, has to prostitute herself so she can eat, put a roof over her head and get medical care....
Hold the command (or control) key and click the link.
Big Brother with semi-gratuitous shots of Cass: www.youtube.com/watch?v=X1zFnyEe3nE
Ann Garrett was convicted of stealing money and served 1 month with hard labour. In the previous three years she had been convicted 6 times and had served 42 days in prison.
Age (on discharge): 22
Height: 5’ 2½”
Hair: Lt. Brown
Eyes: Blue
Place of Birth: Newcastle
Status: Single
Occupation: Prostitute
These photographs are of convicted criminals in Newcastle between 1871 - 1873.
Reference:TWAS: PR.NC/6/1/1265
(Copyright) We're happy for you to share this digital image within the spirit of The Commons. Please cite 'Tyne & Wear Archives & Museums' when reusing. Certain restrictions on high quality reproductions and commercial use of the original physical version apply though; if you're unsure please email archives@twmuseums.org.uk.
To purchase a hi-res copy please email archives@twmuseums.org.uk quoting the title and reference number.
no rules, no limitations, no boundaries it's like an art™
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OIRAN
OIRAN (花魁) were high-class courtesan or prostitute in the Yoshiwara pleasure district of Edo (Tokyo). The word "Oiran" consists of two kanji 花 meaning "flower", and 魁 meaning "leader" or "first." Ａrose in the Edo period, 1600 - 1868 and offering all manner of entertainments. Among the oiran, the tayuu (太夫 or 大夫) was considered the highest rank of courtesan, and were considered suitable for the daimyo (most powerful feudal rulers). Only the wealthiest and highest ranking could hope to patronise them.
KOMA GETA
The Oiran wore tall lacquered three legs footwear could weigh up to 2 kgs (koma geta, mitsu-ashi or sanmaibageta) unlike Geishas, Oiran don't wear tabi socks even in winter!
An amazing skill of balance must have been required to walk with these 15" tall geta.
The Oiran have a particular way of walking called HACHI MOJI (figure 8 step) .
COSTUME
The costumes worn became more and more ornate and complex. The hair style, combs and pins weighing about 3kgs and the prescribed layers of highly ornamented garments weighing about 20-30 kgs. Oiran tied their obi's at the front while Geisha at the back.
HOW TO ENTERTAIN
To entertain their clients, Oiran practiced the arts of dance, music, poetry and calligraphy, and an educated wit was considered essential to sophisticated conversation. Their speech preserved the formal court standards rather than the common language. A casual visitor would not be accepted; their clients would summon them with a formal invitation, and the oiran would pass through the streets in a formal procession (OIRAN DOUCHU - おいらん道中) with a retinue of servants.
The rise of the GEISHA ended the era of the OIRAN . The last recorded oiran was in 1761.
Déjà’s mother was a crack addict and prostitute. At five Déjà started raising the other five children in the house. All shared a mother and none shared a father.
At nine her mother was taken away and the children split up. Déjà ran away from her foster family at twelve and came out as a woman. “I picked up all sorts of habits. I started doing things I don’t do, including smoking crack like my momma did.”
She has been in Hunts Point only a week, “I relapsed so here I am.”
She lives with Michael in an empty lot, working the track at night. “The only way I can prostitute is to drink and to do cocaine. How can you pretend to love and have sex otherwise? Addiction makes you do things you don't want to do.”
She sat in the cold spray of the hydrant, cooling off.
“I want the white picket fence, the Tupperware parties, the husband and kids.”
“Dream? That’s a fairy tale not a dream. Out here you can’t have dreams.”
More on Addiction: Faces of Addiction
A scene common in Vancouver's Down Town East Side (DTES) - drug user, prostitute, homeless.
Drugs are an inescapable part of the city’s culture, with the horrors of abuse and addiction visible in every neighborhood.
Visiting Vancouver means constantly encountering men and women in severe states of mental and physical decay — writhing, shaking, if not lying unconscious or actively shooting up.
Needles and arm-size rubber bands (the blue ones approximately 12 inches long) are common sights in the street. Vancouver’s drug problem correlates tightly with its chronic homelessness problem.
Drug-related deaths in British Columbia are concentrated in urban centres with most in the city of Vancouver.
When the coronavirus hit the province in March 2019, one public health crisis collided with another, and overdose deaths began to climb.
First factor is the sheer toxicity of the drugs on the street as Canada's border closure to the USA has disrupted the country's typical illicit drug supply chain leaving drugs more vulnerable to contamination as local dealers cut them with toxic additives to increase supply and lower costs.
Second factor is the clash in guidance between the two health emergencies as safety amid Covid-19 means social distancing and prolonged periods of isolation. Harm reduction for drug users means never using alone - and social distancing requirements have compelled some supervised consumption sites in Canada - where no overdose deaths have ever been recorded - to reduce capacity or shutter altogether.
Advocates say response to the coronavirus outbreak and the overdose crisis has exposed a gulf between the respective public and political attitudes. Canada's "bold and urgent" response to Covid-19 has not been matched by that to the overdose crisis.
Amid mounting deaths, authorities have suggested two principal solutions: decriminalizing the possession of illicit substances and providing a safe supply of prescribed alternatives - pharmaceutical-grade medication as a substitutes to illegal drugs like heroin.
Both steps have been sought by advocates for decades. Unlike the virus outbreak, the spike in drug deaths in British Columbia was "entirely predictable”. There will be those who disagree with this statement as a pandemic has been predicted by researches for decades.
There is no end in sight to the daily misery of life in the DTES as the political will and pushback from ideologs has prevented any advancement in health professionals recommendations to take the illicit drug trade out of the equation.
I don’t understand why the only crackdown on drug sellers target the low level street vendors and that is a rarity. The big money rarely gets touched - my impression from my daily DTES exposure.
And about why the DTES is such a magnet for drug use and prostitution - over decades of successive city administrations, the cry to add social housing was/is answered by placing the large majority of it in the DTES due to minimal pushback.
This built a community of “customers with no cash” and equally “no political capital”. Its also convenient for the myriad of service groups to “have it all accessible in a compact location”.
And what did we get, a perfect venue for unfettered drug and prostitution. Few in their right mind would open a business here. As a result there are few "eyes on the street" to report on the illegal activity.
I have watched the situation deteriorate for the past 26 years and it’s way worse today than ever. Disappointing, disgusting, indefensible.
Cabaret Of Prostitutes.
Незаметные платья революционные уловки распутные монстры розыгрыши хаос часы трясет огромные старомодные уроки,
possessions extraterritoriales précieuses attitudes peintre danseur marchands d'art esprits doses directes champagnes se balançant pensées toilettes vidées,
чудові запрошення випивка контрактів драматург поети знайомство юристи вечірні прогулянки сучасна література гумористичні системи,
mianta saor ag cothromú difríochtaí codanna fiabhrasacha seachadta sleachta Ollúna feiceálacha oibreacha leapacha cur síos ar sheomraí,
プライベートディストリクトランドリーの濡れた無数の行為極寒の空真夜中のストローク広範囲にわたる革新輝く賢さの電報は勝利の気持ちを動かします入浴曲は泡をちらつかせた.
Steve.D.Hammond.