#1920s lifestyle

[artdecoandmodernist]

1929 Jacques Henri Lartigue, Bibi, Arlette and Irene. Storm in Cannes, France. 

[theinvinciblearmy]

The 1920s lifestyle

[vintage-every-day]

Roller skates in the 1920s.

[mensministry]

Borgo San Pietro’s Satori yacht

Stuart Pearce Photography

[mote-historie]

Wilton Williams, Hunstanton, LNER Poster, Norfolk, United Kingdom, 1930.

Vintage 1930s LNER Hunstanton Railway Poster.

[x-heesy]

𝚅𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚊𝚐𝚎 𝙲𝚘𝚌𝚊 𝙲𝚘𝚕𝚊 𝙰𝚍𝚜

#history #historyofart #historycal #historyfacts #historylovers #historyinpictures #historymade #historygeek #historyera #historyphoto #historyclass #historychannel #historylesson #historygram #historynerd #historytour #historyofphotography #historyplace #historylover #historyphotographed #historymatters #historyoffashion #historyiscool #arthistory #historical #historicalplaces #historicalpix #historicalclothing #historicalphotos #historicalromance #historicalmonument #historicalfacts #historicalart #historicalsnapshots #historicalphotography #historicalphoto #historicalpictures #historicalhome #historicalcenter #historicaldesign #historicalfantasy #historicalusociety #advertising #advertisingphotography #advertisingphotographer #advertisinglife #advertising_insta #advertisingphoto #advertisingart #advertising_photography #advertisingillustration #advertisingworld #advertisingawards #advertisingdesigner #advertisingcampaigns #advertisingshoot #advertisingguru

[vintagelivingbydaisyb]

Daily Vintage: Devoe Varnish Ad, 1920

[martysmusic]

The first nightclubs appeared in New York City in the 1840s and were almost destroyed by Prohibition after World War II. After the law’s repeal in 1933, the idea of a nightclub exploded. I have here some 20s Ragtime and 30s Club Jazz to give a broad expression of both the preWW1 and postwar eras. Check it out if you’re an Apple Music or Spotify subscriber.

APPLE MUSIC:

https://music.apple.com/us/playlist/the-historic-palace-saloon-music-on-both-sides/pl.u-GgA5b3ghZ1WdEGN

SPOTIFY:

[stricklandvintagewatches]

Early Art Deco Omega watch ad reinforcing the masculinity and utility of a wrist watch, circa Switzerland, 1920s.

[birchkillchronicles]

Getting to Marigold

Chapter One

Mushroom, Raw Umber, Tobacco

            A mole’s nest. 

A dark, stuffy mole’s nest. 

That’s what Bernie’s bedroom is, sniffed Jeanie Dinmont. 

A dark, stuffy mole’s nest where—for the last fourteen years!—my daughter has chosen to burrow her silly head.

Gazing around the offending room, Jeanie was stumped. 

Why, she wondered for the trillionth time, had Bernie—back when she was a cantankerous sixteen-year-old—cruelly demanded that they chuck the lovely ivory-and-cream French Provincial décor—with pops of cherry-blossom-pink!—which her mom had so lovingly designed? 

And for what? 

For the Gothic-Victorian-techno mishmash of her current dismal lair?

What a waste of effort! Jeanie had mourned at the time.  And, frankly, she hadn’t seen the need to let Bernie have her own selfish adolescent way.  In her opinion, the sweetly feminine bedroom had been perfect for a young lady of tender years and, at the time, she’d wished that her daughter would just leave it alone. 

Yes, well…

As Jeanie’s mother would say, ‘If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.’

The hollow-eyed teen had moped and sighed and sulked and pined, until—bowing to her best friend Sylvie’s parenting advice—Jeanie had yielded to Bernie’s unfathomable desire to transition her room into a ‘more grown-up space.’

Still—loathe to give up all aesthetic control—Jeanie had energetically counselled her daughter on how to curate her attic retreat. 

“Now, kidlet—with these small windows and sloping ceilings,” she’d cautioned, “you’ll want to keep everything light.  A neutral palette is the ticket here.  So, if I were you, I’d switch out those ivory pieces with a blond Danish-modern suite.  And then freshen up that matte cream wall paint with a semi-gloss buttermilk hue...”

But had her daughter listened? 

Nope. 

Not a chance.

Stubbornly insisting on her own dour notions for the space, Bernie had pushed her perplexed mother to repaint and then cram far too much dark-walnut furniture against stodgy mushroom-gray walls.  

Next—during an increasingly rare mother-and-daughter shopping jaunt to Sears—the cranky teen had opted for equally bleak soft furnishings. 

Then, she’d staged a weekend hunger strike—which her scrawny body could barely abide—in order to gain a plush area rug in a regrettable shade of raw umber. 

And, to complete the desecration, she’d insisted that her pleasant sitting area be transformed into a video gaming lounge!

So, now, an olive-drab duvet smothered the heavy Victorian double bed.  A battleship-grey slipcover obscured what had once been a delicate ladderback desk chair.  And over Bernie’s flat television screen lurked ugly posters featuring the sombre wizards, pointy-eared boys and snarling white wolves from her ghastly video games. 

The window treatments were no better. 

Inky-black roller shades masked every pane.  And tobacco-brown curtains shrouded each implacable shade so that Bernie could never be startled awake by even the slightest stray hint of rosy dawn. 

No sunlight.  No birdsong.  No air…

            Gee whiz, grimaced Jeanie.  I’d go mad if—even for a single night!—I  had to endure this frumpy old nest.  Let alone for the past fourteen years…

            Still—once she’d let Sylvie persuade her to allow the gawky girl dress her third-storey refuge to her own leaden taste—Jeanie had to concede that her best friend had been right.

Concede that Sylvie had understood far better how to assuage the pain of Bernie’s murky adolescence and her ensuing prickly twenties than Jeanie had ever wanted to.

Concede that Sylvie—a seasoned campaigner in the teenage wars with her flamboyant son, Nick—had been entirely correct when she’d warned Jeanie to forfeit the small battles to Bernie and save her energy for the big conflicts to come. 

            Yes, but—

Where was Sylvie now?

            Gone. 

Gone forever…

And that, decided Jeanie—vigorously refusing to be slurped into an insidious bog of regret—that abandonment, no matter how involuntary, certainly meant that now—right now!—Jeanie was allowed to decide for herself that enough was enough!

            With her usual deliberate stride, she wooshed across the deep-piled rug to the window, threw back the heavy curtains, snapped up the roller shade and wrenched open the double hung window. 

A waft of mid-July heat met the chill of the air-conditioning and died on the sill.

            “Jessica Bernadette Todd!” she carolled in her cheeriest voice. “Rise and shine!”

            Beneath the heavy duvet, a slight figure stirred.  Then, an unaccountably tidy head of dark-brown hair turned to reveal hazel-grey eyes peering dully out of a small pale-white face.

            “Mom.”

            With that single word, Bernie neatly expressed everything she wanted to say.

Don’t fool around with my window.  Leave me alone.  Go away.   

            Jeanie decided to ignore it all.

            “The day’s a-wasting!” she chirped.  “It’s time to greet the sun!”

            Her beloved kidlet—never ‘Jessica’ since that September afternoon when she’d announced that, with three other Jessicas in her fifth grade class, she would henceforth be known as ‘Bernie’—dropped a limp hand over to her bedside table to consult her phone.

            “Mom.”

It’s only nine-thirty on a Sunday morning.  Close my drapes.  Leave me alone.

Bernie’s pallid face swivelled inexorably back towards the wall.

            Jeanie decided to ignore that too. 

            Leaving the window wide open, she nipped over to her daughter.  Tugging off the unspeakable duvet to reveal Bernie’s frail powder-blue flannel-wrapped back, she plopped herself down on the bedside for a bracing chat.

            “Look, Bernie—” Jeanie began. “If our loopy-neighbour-from-three-doors-down, Lindy Styre, can get over herself long enough to write a summer play, you can get over yourself long enough to get up and go see it.” 

Bernie’s hibernation remained undisturbed. 

“Oh, for pity’s sake, kidlet!” Jeanie continued, relentlessly.  “According to the radio, Loopy Lindy’s done such a cracker-jack job, her theatre group’s gone and scheduled a whole extra matinee in the Glebe today!  Now, the show starts at one.  And I know that—if you stop for breakfast—it’ll take you at least an hour to get up and out.  So, I thought that, after you’ve had your shower and got dressed, we’d hike over to Starbucks for our coffee and then trot across the Bank Street Bridge.  Once we’re in the Glebe, we’ll pick up a snack—and then window-shop our way up to the park—”

            Heaving a deep-dark sigh, Bernie flopped back over to confront her intolerably perky parent.  “Mom.  There was a headline in the Old Ottawa South paper that said Excursion Theatre’s coming to Windsor Park in early August.  Why can’t we go then?  It’s not as if this matinee’s a case of now-or-never.”

            Delighted with this multi-sentence response, Jeanie seized upon her daughter’s argument with gusto.  “See?  You’re planning to go see Loopy Lindy’s play. Why not take advantage of this lovely golden day?  That August date could be rained out and then we’d miss everything!”

            “Mom—”

            “So why not sling our folding chairs over our shoulders and march on down through the Glebe?  We’ll buy fresh bagels, and it’ll be so much fun—!”

            “Mom—” groaned Bernie, attempting to retreat beneath her bedclothes once more.  

But Jeanie had scented victory in her daughter’s former lengthy reply. 

“Oh no, you don’t!” she laughed, wrestling the awful duvet from Bernie’s feeble grasp and tossing it to the floor.  “We’re overdue for a Girls Day Out!  So, get cracking, kidlet!  And I’ll go rustle up those chairs…”

            Filled with happy purpose, Jeanie scampered down two flights of stairs to her blond maple kitchen.  There, her husband, Donald Todd—an unpretentious man in his late sixties who’d recently retired from the Federal civil service—sat on a caramel-leather-upholstered stool at the pink-granite-topped kitchen island.  He was just as fair-skinned as Bernie and three inches shorter than his long-limbed wife of almost forty-two years.  And, as he sipped his second cup of coffee, he was puzzling through the cryptic crossword from yesterday morning’s paper. 

Always the intellectual, thought Jeanie, indulgently.  Can’t simply do the regular crossword like the rest of us mortals…

            Don had popped his golf shirt collar up on one side, so Jeanie straightened it out for him.  Then, planting an airy kiss on his greying temple, she offered, coyly, “You’ll be glad to hear that your devoted wife and darling daughter won’t be underfoot for most of the day.”

            “But I’ll miss you both so sadly,” returned Don, evenly.  Without even a glance his wife’s way, he filled a long word into his puzzle grid.

             “We’re having a Girls Day Out.  No men allowed!” Jeanie brightly informed him as she disappeared into their recently refreshed mudroom.  There, she pulled a couple of bagged folding chairs out of the closet and leant them against the wall.  Now, she thought with satisfaction, those will be close at hand...

Returning to the kitchen, she double-checked that the box for today’s date on the Inuit art wall calendar was empty.  She wanted to fill it in with the lively acronym ‘GDO!’  But where was the pen that ought to be laying on the shelf nearby?

“Don,” she asked, “have you seen the calendar pen?”

            “Mmm…what?”

            “The calendar pen.  The one that we always leave here on the shelf.” 

The pen wasn’t on the counter.  It hadn’t been knocked to the floor.  So where was the calendar pen? 

Had somebody moved it on purpose? 

Jeanie felt a buzz of frustration arise in her mind. 

“Not this one, is it?”  Still concentrating on his crossword, Don waved the pen he was using at her.  “I found it over there somewhere.”

Jeanie’s mouth pursed in to a strained smile. 

“You know, Don,” she admonished her husband, as if spelling out an indisputable fact to a little child, “you should leave the calendar pen where it belongs.  Then—whenever we need it—we  won’t have to search all over the house.”

“Sorry, dear.”  Don kept reading his puzzle clues and, again, didn’t bother to look up at his wife.

“And I know that you don’t mean to be careless.  But it doesn’t take much to throw everything into disarray.”  Jeanie didn’t like to be a nag.  And since it was only about a month ago that Don had reluctantly retired from the long days of his government career, he could be forgiven for not being on board with her household routines.  But there was a limit to her patience.  “If you start picking up stuff at random and just using it for whatever, pretty soon the whole system will be in a shambles.”

Don nodded thoughtfully and wrote another answer.  “As soon as I’m finished, I’ll put it back,” he said.  And—although her fingers itched to grab the pen out of his selfish hand—from long experience with her husband’s talent for sly evasion, Jeanie knew that she had to be content with that.

Restlessly, she surveyed the kitchen.  What other mischief had Don been up to?  There weren’t any of his used breakfast dishes cluttering up the counter or the sink, so she unobtrusively checked in the dishwasher to see if he’d put them away correctly.

Aha!  Don’s cereal bowl was in the appropriate slot on the bottom rack.  But he’d stuck his juice glass in the widest row of the upper… 

Juice glasses go in the narrow outer row, frowned Jeanie.  Any fool should know that. 

With an air of great tolerance, she lifted the offending glass and placed it in its proper spot.  Then she snapped the dishwasher closed and, with a pen selected out of her cache in her kitchen junk drawer, wrote ‘GDO!’ in today’s calendar box.        

With her good mood restored, Jeanie placed the substitute pen on the designated shelf and turned to Don with an unfeigned smile.  “Don’t you wonder where your girls are going?”

Don glanced up briefly from his puzzle and took a swig of coffee.  “Oh, I’m sure you’ll eventually tell me,” he said.

            “We’re off to see that play that Lindy Styre wrote.”

            “Uh-huh.” 

            “It’s got great reviews, and they’re doing a matinee today in the Glebe.  So, Bernie and I thought we’d give it a peek.”

            “Great.”  Don’s slate-blue eyes drifted back to his crossword. 

            “It’s supposed to be really funny.”

            “No doubt.”  He picked up the ex-calendar pen again and wrote.

            “But you can’t come with us—”

            “Mm-hm…”

            “—because we’re having an exclusive Girls Day Out!”

            His brow wrinkled in deep thought, Don looked up and past his wife to stare vaguely at a spot over the kitchen stove.  So, giving him up as a bad job, Jeanie retrieved her phone from its charging bay to check for messages she might have missed while she was upstairs rousing Bernie. 

There was nothing too important.  Just a reminder from the clinic about Jeanie’s follow-up mammogram.  And a text from her former boss, Roberta Tsang. 

Nearly twenty years ago, Roberta had hired Jeanie as a part-time receptionist at her Bank Street interior design company.  And, now, she was asking whether Jeanie would like to come bargain hunting at the Westboro garage sale next Sunday? 

Jeanie deftly texted Roberta that she’d ‘love to go pickin’!’ and ‘how ’bout lunch too?’ And then stuck the details of the medical appointment into her phone calendar. 

‘Done like dinner,’ as Sylvie would have said. 

‘All good and proper!’ as Jeanie’s mother would amend. 

Pocketing her phone, Jeanie ran up the back stairs to refresh her lipstick in her marbled en-suite bathroom.  Once there, however, she paused to admire her newly-dyed hairdo in the vanity mirror. 

Keenly aware that her aging Clear Spring complexion now benefitted greatly when she lightened her colour palette to a Pastel Spring’s lower intensity hues, she’d instructed her stylist to tone her hair down to a soft-honey tint.  She wasn’t ready to go grey, she’d explained.  But she certainly didn’t want to look like one of those desperate ladies in their early sixties who try to offset their wrinkles with a brash shade of copper or platinum blonde…

Then again, Jeanie was a realist, and she wasn’t going to hide from the fact that she was getting old.  Yet, even with their fortieth anniversary in the rear-view mirror—and a year’s hiatus during her health scare—she and Don were still having it off a couple of times a month.

I might be vintage, Jeanie reminded the smiling woman in the mirror as she lightly touched up her coral lip gloss, but I sure ain’t antique!

As usual, Jeanie had dressed very carefully this morning and, assessing her appearance in the mirror on the back of her bedroom door, she was quite pleased.  She hadn’t painted too much tawny colour on her cheeks, and she liked the nice summery effect of the plain gold hoops in her ears.  Her flowery aqua cotton top bloused enough to disguise any imbalance in the size of her breasts and, with a nod to her mature status, she’d opted for a pair of faded denim-blue shorts which left only a tasteful stretch of her long legs bare.  And—playing peek-a-boo with her neatly coral-polished toes—sprightly new espadrille sandals completed her flawless attire. 

“You look like a million dollars!” she told her beaming reflection and giggled when it responded with a duck-lipped super-model pose. 

Next, knowing that—even at the best of times—Bernie never moved fast in the morning, Jeanie detoured for a few minutes to her craft room, which was located across the hall from the guest bedroom on the second-floor.  She wanted to finish cutting and filing a couple of articles from her favourite women’s magazine. 

Of course, Jeanie knew very well that this was the age of the computer.  But, in some fundamental way, she preferred winnowing real pages to simply downloading images from a screen.  And she wasn’t about to give up her favourite hobby just because it wasn’t modern…

In fact—through years of careful scrutiny of homemaker’s magazines—Jeanie had assembled a tangible ‘vision’ of what her family’s life should ideally be.  And via scrapbooks, files and inspiration boards, she continued to pursue that vision with passion and zest.

Now, donning her reading glasses, Jeanie flipped merrily through the latest issue’s glossy pages.  She clipped illustrated instructions on how to host a gingham-themed summer picnic.  And then a page of chowder recipes with both seafood and vegetarian options.  She usually filed the ‘Simple Sewing Crafts’ feature, as well as the fantasy vacation pages, so she plied her scissors there too.  Then, making sure that the paper remained uncreased, she stashed the articles into appropriately multi-colour-labeled folders, ready to be pasted into one of the many tidy scrapbooks that lined her craft room shelves.

Gratified with this bit of orderly housekeeping, Jeanie skipped up to the third floor to monitor her daughter’s progress.  But—

There wasn’t any. 

Or, at least to Jeanie’s mind, there hadn’t been.

Perhaps, in Bernie’s opinion, there had.

            The window was once more firmly shut.  The inky-black roller shade was pulled down and the tobacco-brown curtains had been yanked across.  The olive-drab duvet had been restored.  And it was painfully obvious from the bedclothes’ unruffled façade that the small silent bulge beneath hadn’t moved since Bernie had rearranged her mole’s nest back to her own heavy dark taste. 

            Wordlessly Jeanie stood and stared dumbfounded at her daughter’s dead heap.  She felt like she’d been slapped in the face with a wet fish… 

And then blistering incredulity replaced her initial shock.

How could any kid of mine, gasped Jeanie’s mind, so brutally reject my efforts to engage her in the wonderful al fresco pleasures of life?  Haven’t I tried beyond hope to understand her ridiculous reserve?  Haven’t I given her the benefit of my sunny philosophy every single day?

So, why this obstinate refusal to participate in a cheery Girls Day Out?

As my mother would say—'What’s the worst that can happen?  What doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger, girl.’

So, get out there in the fresh air and have a ball!

It all seemed so easy to Jeanie.  But then again—as she was the first to admit—tolerating the personal quirks of her deeply loved but totally mystifying kidlet had always been the major challenge in her life. 

Jeanie had miscarried multiple times before Bernie had finally been born, and the doctors had decreed that she’d have no more kids.  So, there went her plan to have a troupe of children skipping through the halls of the three-storey, two staircase, six-bedroom, white elephant of an Edwardian red-brick house that she and Don had optimistically purchased in Old Ottawa South.

Then, Bernie had been a difficult, hyper-sensitive baby, hard to put to sleep and often screaming with colic.  And—long past the ‘making shy’ stage—her finicky daughter had strenuously objected to strangers.  So, Jeanie’d had to shelve her new scheme of housing international university students too. 

No matter, she’d rationalized, and industriously repurposed the four superfluous bedrooms instead.  On the second floor, she’d allocated a study for Don and a craft room for herself.  And, in the two bedrooms on the third, she’d set up a box room for storage and—in the larger one—a quaint gabled playroom for her only child.

But then it had turned out that Bernie’s immune system had been massively unforgiving of even hypoallergenic pets.  Reluctantly, Jeanie’d had to re-home their Labradoodle dog and Balinese cat.  And, for the last twenty-eight years, the only animals in their home had been the mindless goldfish swimming endlessly around their bowl in Don’s study.  

So, no brothers or sisters or boarders.  And not even a furry pet…

With puberty, of course, Bernie had insisted on moving her bedroom up to the third floor.  And—remembering her own dramatic middle school years—Jeanie had indulged her twelve-year-old kidlet’s sudden need for privacy.  Efficiently, she’d hired a builder to tear down the wall of small attic box room and install another full bathroom for Bernie’s exclusive use.  And then she’d happily decorated her daughter’s new en-suite bedroom and sitting area in that delightfully feminine ivory-cream-and-pink colour scheme.  

Next, the generous walk-in closet in Bernie’s former second floor bedroom had been renovated to become Jeanie’s and Don’s en-suite bath.  And—after purchasing an antique birdseye-maple bedroom set which included a spacious wardrobe—Jeanie had refurnished the remaining space for the use of overnight guests. 

But then, as an ungrateful older teen, Bernie had stubbornly chosen that woeful attic décor.  And—all the way through her Carleton University days and right into her nerdy government computer system analyst career—she’d persistently ignored her mom’s every encouragement to brighten it up. 

Unfortunately, to Jeanie’s mind, thirty-year-old Bernie seemed to be stuck in a teenage funk.  And—equally unfortunately—the end of their tense mother-daughter journey seemed to be nowhere in sight. 

Which was because—as far as Jeanie knew—her persnickety kidlet had never led a normal social life.  No gang of gal pals, no best friend and not even a whiff of romance had given a dash of spice to her daughter’s achromatic existence.  Day in and day out, she’d simply slunk off to class or to work.  Or sat at a computer.  Or stared at a phone…

And when, a couple of years ago—at Jeanie’s urging—Don had offered to help with a substantial down payment, Bernie had balked at moving into her own place. 

So, it had become increasingly obvious to Jeanie and Don that their daughter wasn’t planning to decamp anywhere else anytime soon.

Holy doodle, grimaced Jeanie.  Imagine a thirty-year-old woman deliberately living at home with her aging parents.  Still single and perfectly content to be buried alive in her dark, stuffy mole’s nest—

That was Bernie in a teacup! 

And now, Jeanie realized, bitterly, the world’s most exasperating daughter wasn’t even going to disturb her self-centred agenda to venture forth on a rare Girls Day Out with her long-suffering mom!

Swiftly, Jeanie’s incredulity morphed into fury.  And—aware that she was on the edge of saying or doing something unforgiveable—she abruptly spun on her heel and swept down the back stairs to the kitchen where Don still struggled with his puzzle. 

“Bernie’s not coming!” she snapped.  “Your daughter won’t even get up out of bed!”

“She won’t?” returned Don without looking up from his crossword.  “What a surprise.”  With a grunt of pleasure, he filled in one of the last two answers and, surveying the final clue, nonchalantly offered a helpful suggestion.  “Maybe you could call somebody else to go with you.  Probably Sylvie—oh, dear god, Jeanie, I’m so sorry—!”  Too late Don realized his indefensible mistake and, red-faced, sprang up from his stool to give his wife his full attention.  “Jeanie, I didn’t mean to—!” 

But there was really no excuse.

“She can’t be bothered—and you don’t mean to—!  That’s the story of my life!” snarled Jeanie, snatching her light summer tote bag from its peg.  “But don’t let it bug you, Don!  Sylvie may be gone.  But I’m not beaten yet!  I’m going to Lindy’s play—all by myself!”

Helpless with guilt, Don shrank back on his stool. 

And, ditching her miserable husband, Jeanie stomped into the mudroom, seized her folding chair and slammed through the side door to face the pitiless hot and sunny world.

Alone.

[billsmithsposts]

Stepping into the Past with Panache: A Review of RetroStage's Vintage Fashion Extravaganza

For the darling flapper, the wartime worker, or the swinging mod chick, RetroStage is a sartorial dream come true. This haven of vintage-inspired clothing offers a time capsule experience, transporting you from the flapper era’s joie de vivre to the mod scene’s bold geometry. A Flapper’s Paradise: Reliving the Roaring Twenties RetroStage’s 1920s collection is a shimmering ode to the iconic…

[blissfullyecho]

Become Your Dream Girl in 2025

Defining your dream girl persona

The first step into becoming your dream girl is to have a clear picture of her in your mind. Imagine her life in detail; her aesthetic, her habits, and even her energy. This is the time to get specific.

Visualization Exercise: Sit in a quiet space, close your eyes, and visualize your dream girl persona. How does she dress? What places does she visit? What are her priorities and goals? Let yourself feel her confidence, luxury, and elegance.

Create a Vision Board: Gather photos, quotes, fabrics, and colors that represent this version of you. A physical board can go in your room or closet. It can even be a mini collage you can put on your driver's side mirror in your car. The goal is to see your dream girl's life as real and achievable.

Setting New Year Goals

Your dream girl's life needs structure, so let's break down goals into categories and map out the steps to make it happen.

Categorize Your Goals: List your goals under personal growth, style & beauty, health & wellness, and career & financial. For example, under "Health & Wellness", you might set a goal to try Pilates or to cook more at home.

Monthly Check-Ins: As you go through the year, check in with your goals to celebrate your wins, and adjust as needed. This keeps your transformation on track.

Mindset Makeover

Confidence & Self-Worth

Your dream girl is confident, magnetic, and knows her worth. Let's build those habits and thoughts that help you embody that energy daily.

Positive Affirmations: Every time you look in the mirror, say things like "I am worth everything good that can happen to me" or any affirmation that you feel suits you best.

Confidence Rituals: Small, daily actions add up to huge shifts in confidence. Make it a habit to dress up on casual days, speak kindly to yourself, and embrace good posture.

Let Go of Insecurities: Identify any insecurities and practice reframing them. Instead of "I wish I was more confident", say "I am becoming more confident every day". Over time, you'll notice how these subtle shifts impact your self-worth.

Mindset for Success

Your dream girl is resilient and always growing, so let's make success part of your mindset.

Growth Mindset: View challenges as chances to learn, whether it's a career move, a new hobby, or even a social situation.

Visualizing Success: Each morning, spend a few minutes visualizing yourself living your dream life. This will keep you focused and motivated.

Morning & Evening Routines: Start each day with intention by setting small goals and expressing gratitude. At night, reflect on the day and celebrate your wins; even the small ones.

Social Life & Relationships

Social confidence comes from feeling at ease in your own skin.

Elegant Etiquette: Show appreciation with thank you notes, and make an effort to remember names. The vibe for 2025 is to go for traditional, rather than modern. Think classic early 1920's-1950's Hollywood.

Curate Your Circle: Surround yourself with supportive, inspiring friends who uplift you. Leave the ones who don't elevate themselves or try to keep you behind.

Networking Lifestyle: Turn social gatherings into chances to meet like-minded people and to elevate your circle.

(Dating) Standards First: Don't settle; know what you deserve in a partner and communicate it confidently.

(Dating) Playful Energy: Be confident, flirty, and assertive (with yourself, not them). Stay in your feminine energy and let them earn your time and attention.

(Dating) Relationship Goals: Keep dates special and playful. Dress up, go out, and enjoy yourself.

Finances & Career Goals

Your dream girl values luxury, but also financial security. Your career is part of your dream girl identity, so elevate it.

Budgeting: Set aside money for luxuries and self-investment, but keep savings in mind.

Multiple Income Streams: Consider side hustles that align with your lifestyle.

Savings Goals: Whether it's for a designer bag, a trip, or just building wealth, make sure your goals are concrete.

Luxury Workspace: Make your workspace a vibe with candles, flowers, and chic decor.

Network for Success: Connect with mentors and people who inspire you.

Grow with Intention: Set milestones in your career or business, and keep pushing for the next level.

Health & Wellness

Your body is the vessel of your dream girl, so let's treat it with love and care. Mental clarity and peace are essential for dream girl energy; so let's focus on overall wellness this year.

Exercise: Try Pilates or Barre classes for a toned, elegant look. If that's not your thing, find workouts that create your dream body.

Healthy Eating: Focus on whole foods, lots of veggies, and drink tons of water.

Weekly Reset: Plan a mini detox day where you relax, hydrate, and reset for the week.

Mindfulness Practice: Try a short meditation or breathing exercise every morning.

Stress Relief: Whether it's a quick walk, journaling, or a creative outlet, find a stress relief that's all you.

Boundaries: Say no when needed, and make sure your energy is protected.

Beauty & Style Upgrade

First, a dream girl has that glow, and it all starts with a skincare routine that feels luxurious. You also need to find a style that captures your dream girl vibe, and commit to curating it. Then, you need to develop habits that will help you better your appearance.

Simple Skincare Routine (For Starters): Start with a cleanser for your skin type, followed by a hydrating toner, a serum (like Vitamin C for brightness), moisturizer, and SPF.

Luxury Treatments: Invest in facials or try gentle at-home treatments like dermaplaning once a month for an extra glow.

Nightly Routine: Keep your skin hydrated at night with a heavier moisturizer or an overnight mask.

Personal Style Icons: Think of someone like Serena van der Woodsen from Gossip Girl or a high-fashion model off-duty.

Curating Your Wardrobe: Focus on high-quality staples in neutral tones, like blazers, silky blouses, and tailored bottoms. Invest in timeless pieces that make you feel like a billion dollars.

Signature Look: A dream girl has her thing, whether it's an accessory, a makeup look, or a scent. Find what makes you feel like you and stick with it.

Self-Care Rituals: Prioritize manicures and pedicures, hair masks, and bubble baths. Set aside time every week to pamper yourself.

Polished Look: Even on your most casual days, aim to look put together.

Signature Hair & Makeup: Pick a go-to glam look that embodies your dream girl; maybe that's glossy lips and loose waves (for example).

Lifestyle & Daily Habits

Your routine should feel luxurious yet practical, setting the tone for each day. Small daily habits can transform how you feel and present yourself.

Weekly Pamper Sessions: Set aside Sunday evenings for facials, skincare, and champagne baths! (Be careful and make sure you're of legal drinking age)

Journaling and Reflection: Each morning, write down 3 things you're grateful for and 3 intentions for the day.

Goal Reviews: Every Sunday, celebrate your wins and see if any goals need a refresh.

The Basic Routine: Make your bed, wake up early, and put on an outfit that feels like you.

Energy-Boosting Habits: A quick stretch, a healthy breakfast, and a moment of quiet can make a huge difference.

Wind-Down Ritual: At night, unwind with tea, a bubble bath, or a short meditation to recharge for tomorrow.

Indulge a Little: Get a weekly coffee treat or a luxurious candle that makes your space feel cozy.

Luxury Experiences: Plan for a special outing every month, like a fancy dinner or spa day.

Signature Scents and Cocktails: Find your go-to perfume and a signature drink like a dirty martini or a bubbly glass of champagne.

Conclusion:

Becoming your dream girl is a journey; one that's glamorous, fulfilling, and full of growth. Each step brings you closer to living the life you deserve.

[vintage-every-day]

Exquisite styling of a bridal party by James Van Der Zee, 1920s.

[moonwoodhollow]

HOHENZOLLERN ALLEE 72-76

a German-inspired 1950s apartment build + a furnished flat

A build download that was in the works for almost a month and made me realise how much I love building local architecture even though it's not the easiest within the constraints of TS4.

It's meant to represent a realistic German apartment build, that is a bit run down and yet still feels homey and nostalgic to those of us growing up near or in these buildings. There's one furnished flat that is ideal for 2-3 sims and furnished in a retro 60s-90s look, that I hope you'll enjoy! This is also a BIG 1K followers gift, with which I want to show my deepest appreciation to all my followers, thank you so much!!

More info, screenshots + DL link behind the cut!

First a little history/backstory to this build:

This build is something you'd see very often in Middle to Northern Europe, less so in the UK, because brick builds there look similar but also different and I based my build off of Northern German brick builds.

The red brick used for these builds dominates the townscapes in quite a few cities where I live and has been used for a few centuries (see Brick Gothic). This build that I based on a real building, however, is more modern and was probably built after WW2, as the design choices, like using tiles on the facades of brick builds is something distinctively 1950s. I know there are older examples, but these buildings usually have more design and decor elements on the facades. These red brick builds were built en masse starting with the 1920s and were usually meant for low-income households. The same goes for the 1950s brick builds, which were built on top of ruins of older buildings destroyed in the war and oftentimes were cheaply constructed and usually don't receive the same appreciation that older pre-war brick builds get, so quite a few are already being demolished for more modern builds.

So what do you get with this build?

Hohenzollernallee 72-76 is a 40x30 lot that I placed in Evergreen Harbor on the Sprucewood Square lot. I created 2 versions of the building, one as a normal residential lot and another as a residential rental. Just choose whatever you want! There are 6 different flats, that have been renovated at different times, which is apparent from the condition of their kitchen and bathroom.. Each flat has its own basement room and the garden is shared between all tenants and there's a shared laundry room in the basement as well.

You'll also have a restaurant shell, the Burger Lab that is not functional currently, but you could make it so if you want.

The furnished flat is playtested and ideal for 2-4 sims max and is heavily 'lived in', meaning very cluttered. I personally see an older woman living there, whose husband already died and her daughter left as soon she turned 18, but the interior was never changed or renovated. I don't know, you could probably come up with a lot of story ideas!

CC is mostly included. You'll find an Excel file with the specific file names and the dl link for all CC that is not included. The build will probably still look okay-ish without the excluded CC but I strongly recommend downloading it, if you do not already have it.

Thank you, especially to these lovely creators: @budgie2budgie, @sforzinda, @surely-sims, @pluto-sims, @syboubou.

@myshunosun, @charlypancakes, @peacemaker-ic, @kkbsmm, @leaf-motif

@awingedllama, @kirsicca, @baufive, @lumenniveus, @kiwisim4 and many more!! it's because of you that this build looks the way it does <3

Uses items from the following packs: For Rent, Growing Together, High School Years, Cottage Living, Snowy Escape, Eco Lifestyle, Discover University, Island Living, Get Famous, Seasons, Cats and Dogs, City Living, Get Together, Get To Work, Werewolves, My Wedding Stories, Dreamhome Decorator, Strangerville, Vampires, Dine Out, Tiny Living, Laundry Day, Backyard Stuff, (Kits): Party Essentials, Basement Treasures, Greenhouse Haven, Bathroom Clutter, Everyday Clutter, Desert Luxe, Little Campers, Décor to the Max, Industriel Loft & Courtyard Oasis

Download: Google Drive | also up on the gallery: aeromantica (but you'll need the cc files from the Drive folder!)

-> Info: I tried to not include merged files, but there are about 3-5 that I missed, sorry :(

TOU: please don’t claim as your own or put behind paywalls etc. If you find any issues (wrong files, etc.) please let me know + tag me if you’ll use the house, I’d love to see it in your games.

[mote-historie]

George Barbier. Cover of Femina, 1926.

[hellotailor]

Apologies if you've already done a post on this and I've just missed it, but can I ask for your take on the pyjamas worn by the cast of interview with vampire? I mean technically they're not a 100% necessary item, but just from a quick look there seems to be a lot of variety and they do change over the series

ok, i’m delighted by the specificity of this question, and it turns out that i have a VERY extensive answer.

there’s a lot of sleepwear in IWTV due to the volume of bedroom/coffin scenes, and like any other outfit, these costumes are shaped by characterization and historical period. for instance claudia initially wears a long, modest, frilly nightgown - an old-fashioned style that plays into her girlish doll wardrobe purchased by louis and lestat. however her sleepwear matures over the years, including a trendy lace nightdress with bloomers in the 1920s (note the rectangular silhouette), and a pink padded jacket/pastel robe outfit in 1940s paris. she's following contemporary trends while charting a visible trajectory from child to adult.

when i wrote about the Théâtre des Vampires coven costumes, i noted that while their wardrobes share certain themes (ie. monochrome patterns and stripes), they each have specific personal tastes. that holds true for sleepwear. in the S2 finale we see the coven going to bed in their coffins, with Eglee in a gorgeous (maybe 1940s?) robe, Celeste in a striped pajama suit reflecting her 1920s-30s cabaret style, and Armand in a plain grey set of prison jammies because he's Suffering.

of course, the star pajama outfits all belong to Louis and Lestat, playing into their wealthy domestic aesthetic in S1. they receive multiple bedroom/coffin scenes, and Lestat's gold Leyendecker robe is obviously iconic.

touching on the historical side of things for a moment, pajamas (as in a matching buttondown top and loose pants) were popularized in the western world in the 19th century, as a repurposed south asian import - kind of like how banyans became trendy among the upper classes in 18th century england. this was when loungewear started to catch on as a concept, both in terms of dressing gowns and smoking jackets (which you could wear while socializing at home) and actual pajamas, which became unisex in the 1920s.

back in his human life in the 18th century, Lestat probably slept naked or wore a shapeless white nightgown (and possibly a nightcap, the sexiest of garments). but in New Orleans he adopts Louis' lifestyle, which involves a luxurious wardrobe of fashionable menswear. they're both into shopping and looking good, and i think they enjoy the ritual of getting dressed together each night.

(i also have a personal theory that Lestat may prefer to sleep fully clothed because his formative traumatic memory involves waking up naked in the dark. after all, he doesn't need pajamas to stay warm, and he doesn't have a recent habit of wearing them in his human life like Louis does. then again, maybe he just enjoys having a new outfit for every occasion!)

in Dubai, we only get one scene (iirc) with Louis and Armand in their pajamas, lying in bed wearing outfits that tie into the striped prison bar imagery of their bedroom. Armand is in warmer brown tones (like his Paris wardrobe) while Louis is in black and grey, like the rest of his Dubai outfits. i'd also note that this is the one place where they're genuine in private, meaning that they aren't putting on a show for Daniel. so this is potentially Armand's most relaxed costume in the present day.

the fact that they're wearing this kind of old-school sleepwear feels very appropriate for their whole deal, imo. in the 21st century, a lot of people just sleep in boxers and t-shirts or whatever. there's a slightly 20th century vibe to wearing a full set of buttondown pajamas, and Armand's outfit reads as more stylish (and possibly more wealthy) than your average millennial guy. which makes sense! they're old men.

i think we can assume that every single thing in their Dubai home is ferociously expensive, even when it doesn't need to be. considering the way Louis gives himself a modern makeover in the finale, i do wonder if he'll switch over to sleeping in t-shirts etc next season, or if he'll stick with variations of the same sleepwear he wore during his mortal life.

p.s. all of my iwtv design posts are available on this tag!