This Weekend Why Don’t You… Bust Your Bodice?
Written by Pip Lincolne
September 16, 2011
Be Happy, Style & Home
12 Comments
If you know me, you’ll know I love a period drama. For me, nothing makes more sense than to climb under the doona, resplendent in leggings and worn out t-shirt-with-a-parrot-on-it to watch the buttoned-up, stitched-up, bejewelled, poignantly pausey awesomeness that is a period drama. It’s a real ritual for me, immersing myself in Ye Olde Times. It involves QUITE a bit of preparation. Sometimes I brush my hair. I may plump my pillows with extra vigour. Sometimes I may get a bit fancy and forgo a tea-bag for a pot and leaves. I may even take the biscuits out of the packet and put them on a plate. All in the name of petticoats and plunderers. So influenced am I by Ye Olde Elegance of shows like Downton Abbey, Lark Rise To Candleford, Brideshead Revisited, Upstairs Downstairs and the like that I insist on a handkerchief at all times. No Kleenex for me. Don’t spoon sugar into my teacup either, because we all know sugar CUBES are steeped with understated Ye Olde Style. Give me one cube, if you please. I KNOW. I’m REALLY into this stuff! Where is my toast rack? Where is my shoe horn? Who took my snuff box? One bustle, please.
Picture this :: dewy gazes, tinkling chandeliers, clattery silverware, constant needlework, silent sips from flowery tea-cups, people getting other people dressed, lots of pies, very big paintings of plump nude ladies, really weird do-si-do dancing, men who think their wives are dim, women who will marry any old gumboot of a fella, ponds with people sitting beside them or getting in them, feisty girls who don’t want to kiss broody boys, feisty girls who do want to kiss broody boys, horses carrying damp ladies in the rain, fancy treats on silver plates, people stealing things from other people while even more people catch a sneaky glimpse, cocktails in crystal tumblers at all hours of the day, people pretending to be virtuous when they are totally skanky, ladies managing to say in 437 words what they could have said in 23, cake, hospital corners, boobs nearly falling out of dresses, jelly nearly falling off platters, extravagant window treatments, super fancy hairdos, dresses which make even the skinniest girl look pregnant, dresses which make even the most pregnant girl look skinny. Fainting! Operations without anaesthetic! Curls that look really stupid! Orphans! Oh my.. Who could resist?!
Upstairs Downstairs
A big part of my Ye Olde Enthusiasm is the costuming. In a world of jeggings and pyjama jeans who wouldn’t want to retreat into a feast of cardigans, drop waists, empire lines and kilts? There are no muffin tops, adhesive bras or camel toes here. The closest thing to a wardrobe malfunction is when the stable boy has inadvertently put the Mistress’s frock cupboard key where the larder key should be. (This was because he was distracted by the scullery maid who was showing him her jam tarts at the time.) And do not even mention Snuggies. They did not need Snuggies. Usually they were very toasty warm from dancing a jig or being bathed by a lady’s maid.
Hair was smoothed, braided, curled, pinned, adorned or hatted to within an inch of its life. Cheeks were blushing. Lips were beguilingly pink or brazenly red. Necks were giraffey. Sleeves were puffy. Skirts were swishy. Shoes were pinchy. Waists were cinchy. Ah. Ow.
South Riding
