What I’d give for this woman to be equipped with a Tinder account, swiping right on this staring loser vampire.
What I’d give for this woman to be equipped with a Tinder account, swiping right on this staring loser vampire.
Go ahead and just charge every part of this look to my credit card. The red windbreaker material isn’t quite up to my speed, but with that fur trim and well-coiffed top knot?! What the hell.
How much do you love being able to spy the guy in the background checkin’ out our leading lady in Mary Cassatt’s “In the Loge”? I mean, happens to me all the time, so props to girlfriend. She’s doing a phenomenal job looking just too busy and beautiful for all that Peeping-Tom-foolery.
I don’t even know how many times I need to ask, Mallory, but seriously, can you go ahead and hire me? I’ve always wanted to be a woeful writer in New York. There’s something so romantic about it. I barely care about the rat:person ratio in the subway. I do care significantly about wearing black, Paintbox manicures, and saying quippy remarks to alluring strangers at the myriad of openings I imagine attending.
Until then, dear one, I’ll continue singing your praises on this grand soapbox. Read the remaining images from “Women Praying Furiously in Art History” here.
ok before we start this prayer
everyone remember
you hate god
you hate food
you hate everyone in this room
I SAID
I DON’T WANT TO TALK ABOUT IT RIGHT NOW
Lincoln was assassinated 150 years ago today in DC’s Ford’s Theater.
The rocker Lincoln was sitting in that night was kept by the feds during investigation of the assassination, and then given back to the theater owner’s widow. She put it up for auction, and it was purchased by Henry Ford in 1929 for a cool twenty-four hundred dollars (a measly $32,000 today). The photo above is a part of the series of its arrival to Dearborn, Michigan.
To celebrate their priceless artifact, and the sesquicentennial of all things Lincoln, the Henry Ford Museum is offering free admission tomorrow, April 15th.
Another Lincoln fun fact? The Surratt Boarding House, the infamous conspirators’ meeting place, is now a Wok ‘n Roll on H Street in Chinatown, like four blocks away. What I love most is Wikipedia touts the location’s available karaoke rooms just as it appearing on the National Register of Historic Places.
I was just talking about that portrait gallery Olan Mills last week! How inconveniencing do you think it’d be to bring like, fifty yards of shiny fabric and staple it to an oversized columnar backdrop? And a crown? I have the small dog thing taken care off, but I will need to borrow someone’s Belle dress and two ridiculously-dressed children. I’ll get to the mustached man when I can, but three outta four ain’t bad.
There’s a lot out there about dressing in one’s Sunday finest, but can we bring back Monday finest? Something that includes voluminous updos. And ruffles. Lots and lots of ruffles.
Queen Charlotte was married to King George III (like, Boston Tea Party antagonist King George). Turns out, she was also pen pals with Marie Antoinette. She even planned for the French royal family to hide out in Britain during the Revolution…you know, before the whole “off with her head” thing.
Gustave Caillebotte painted “Paris Street: Rainy Day” at the ripe age of twenty-nine. I’m so inspired at being zero years late to the game that I might just promenade downtown wearing a bustle and an umbrella I will consistently refer to as a parapluie. Yes, I believe I will do just that.