#petticoated

[chloetv7-blog]

[extremeheels]

[forced-womanhood]

[eyra]

I’m looking through some old book pages for work and losing my mind at this one.

“she who makes her husband and her children happy, who reclaims the one from vice and trains up the other to virtue, is a much greater character than ladies described in romances, whose whole occupation is to murder mankind with shafts from their quiver, or their eyes.”

Isabella Beeton, I couldn’t disagree more ♥️

[hamletthedane]

I was meeting a client at a famous museum’s lounge for lunch (fancy, I know) and had an hour to kill afterwards so I joined the first random docent tour I could find. The woman who took us around was a great-grandmother from the Bronx “back when that was nothing to brag about” and she was doing a talk on alternative mediums within art.

What I thought that meant: telling us about unique sculpture materials and paint mixtures.

What that actually meant: an 84yo woman gingerly holding a beautifully beaded and embroidered dress (apparently from Ukraine and at least 200 years old) and, with tears in her eyes, showing how each individual thread was spun by hand and weaved into place on a cottage floor loom, with bright blue silk embroidery thread and hand-blown beads intricately piercing the work of other labor for days upon days, as the labor of a dozen talented people came together to make something so beautiful for a village girl’s wedding day.

What it also meant: in 1948, a young girl lived in a cramped tenement-like third floor apartment in Manhattan, with a father who had just joined them after not having been allowed to escape through Poland with his pregnant wife nine years earlier. She sits in her father’s lap and watches with wide, quiet eyes as her mother’s deft hands fly across fabric with bright blue silk thread (echoing hands from over a century years earlier). Thread that her mother had salvaged from white embroidery scraps at the tailor’s shop where she worked and spent the last few days carefully dying in the kitchen sink and drying on the roof.

The dress is in the traditional Hungarian fashion and is folded across her mother’s lap: her mother doesn’t had a pattern, but she doesn’t need one to make her daughter’s dress for the fifth grade dance. The dress would end up differing significantly from the pure white, petticoated first communion dresses worn by her daughter’s majority-Catholic classmates, but the young girl would love it all the more for its uniqueness and bright blue thread.

And now, that same young girl (and maybe also the villager from 19th century Ukraine) stands in front of us, trying not to clutch the old fabric too hard as her voice shakes with the emotion of all the love and humanity that is poured into the labor of art. The village girl and the girl in the Bronx were very different people: different centuries, different religions, different ages, and different continents. But the love in the stitches and beads on their dresses was the same. And she tells us that when we look at the labor of art, we don’t just see the work to create that piece - we see the labor of our own creations and the creations of others for us, and the value in something so seemingly frivolous.

But, maybe more importantly, she says that we only admire this piece in a museum because it happened to survive the love of the wearer and those who owned it afterwards, but there have been quite literally billions of small, quiet works of art in billions of small, quiet homes all over the world, for millennia. That your grandmother’s quilt is used as a picnic blanket just as Van Gogh’s works hung in his poor friends’ hallways. That your father’s hand-painted model plane sets are displayed in your parents’ livingroom as Grecian vases are displayed in museums. That your older sister’s engineering drawings in a steady, fine-lined hand are akin to Da Vinci’s scribbles of flying machines.

I don’t think there’s any dramatic conclusions to be drawn from these thoughts - they’ve been echoed by thousands of other people across the centuries. However, if you ever feel bad for spending all of your time sewing, knitting, drawing, building lego sets, or whatever else - especially if you feel like you have to somehow monetize or show off your work online to justify your labor - please know that there’s an 84yo museum docent in the Bronx who would cry simply at the thought of you spending so much effort to quietly create something that’s beautiful to you.

[chloetv7-blog]

[sol-flo]

disgustingly good outfit. wish i'd done a more german expressionistic makeup but i don't have the light and shimmery things to pull it off, especially since my eyes are small to begin with

movie was pretty good with great performances across the board but some surprisingly underwhelming visuals. in particular i found the cgi to be a little dubious at times. nothing that gets in the way, and orlok is awesome bc he's mostly practical, but the outdoor shots really suffered imo, they just look fake in a bad way. still very much worth it though

idk what to wear to nosfy tomorrow... ega or romantic goth obviously but that's half my wardrobe. i think i wanna wear a good long skirt, petticoat and all, but do i want it dragging on the gross sticky theatre floor.

[herprincessface-blog]

“Petticoated boys could be denied their inheritances and kept on as domestic workers long into adulthood. Most became maids. Often the justifications for the petticoating became blurred, as what initially started as an attempt to correct behaviour became something done purely for convenience or for financial reasons. After all, a woman could retain the value of an inheritance, retain ownership of a property, all the while keeping the services of an unpaid domestic servant, so long as she insisted on the continuation of her son’s petticoated status. Indeed the law at the time protected this decision, most believing the well-being and continued financial security of Mothers took priority over petticoated maids considered unable to make much of themselves as young men. This kind of arrangement most commonly occurred in the houses of widowed women, whose sons, without the pressure or help of their fathers, had little push or opportunity to enter into a masculine profession or seek higher education. It hardly needs to be said that their mothers’ insistence on women’s clothing, petticoats, and uniforms made any re-entry into male society all but impossible for these young men. She could thus retain her son’s services as a ladies maid for however long she pleased, confident that there were few opportunities elsewhere for a petticoated maid, and able always to dangle the promise of eventual inheritance, something continually deferred, if not outright denied, even after a lifetime of service in a women’s role.”

Excerpt from ‘Petticoating: Feminisation, Domestic Service, and Power in Late Victorian England’ by Alice Cousins

[sissypoof]

Fresh baked cookies!!! Served with love from your favorite prissy sissy! Mistress supervised me carefully and I was properly petticoated and diapered! So many diaper crinkles and my pettis are swishing around. So humiliating being a domesticated sissybaby but I love it!

[a-girl-forever]

Sissies on a play date..!

They could hardly believe how much they looked like each other, all petticoated, permed and wearing matching satin dresses.

Kimmi and Amy had been friends as boys for years, and now this! Each is now a sweet little Miss. Their moms were quite satisfied with the outcome, especially since they both had always wanted daughters.

Kimmi could hardly wait to show Amy his new girl bedroom. Their moms just giggled and then told the boys that it was time to adopt their new feminine gender. They were thrilled, especially when informed that their names required feminizing too - no more boy. Kimmi and Amy squealed with girlish delight!

They clapped their hands with glee when Kimmi's mom announced that next week they would be off to Macy's to select their holiday dress wardrobe and new lingerie.

When the girls arrived, the sales lady greeted both Kimmi and Amy as “Miss”.

Both girls had such a good time selecting their training bras, panties and petticoats and trying on party dresses!

[kimmipettie]

3/14/23 - 2196 - Chris will grin, alright. She is beginning to enjoy girl life, pretty lingerie and gorgeous gowns, although she is loath to let on to Aunt Julia. Who knows what she would then do next? After all, young ladies adore getting a new 'do and all dolled up. Julia will be thrilled when she realizes her nephew now loves her new feminized life. Debuted 3/10/23 on Andy Latex. Thanks Christeen and Andy!

_____________________________________

1/24/25 - Don’t be surprised, Chris. Aunt Julia has always known how much you secretly adore becoming a lovely young petticoated Miss.

(0)

[marzipanandminutiae]

Where can I find this Victorian forcefem?

Oh man, I haven't kept track of it over the years, I'm afraid. A lot of it follows the pattern of "when I was a young boy, my mother/nursemaid/Female Authority Figure made me dress up as a girl [as a punishment/because they liked girls better/Insert Flimsy Reasoning Here]. and now I secretly like wearing women's clothing while women dominate me tee hee!"

They called it petticoating, pinaforing, or petticoat punishment (some of which terms I think are still in use? but I'm not sure since that's not my scene for a multitude of reasons), and there's a Wikipedia page on it. They exclusively discuss full-length novels that mention it, but I'm sure I've seen write-in sections on the subject from the same magazines that published likely-fictional content on tightlacing, nipple piercing, spanking pretty housemaids, etc.

[this-is-a-stickup]

Preston, which dare was more embarrassing? Hitchhiking in your tighty-whities or being petticoated?

[wakewithgiggli]

Have worn a hat pin. Would gladly stab an asshole with my tiny, beautiful sword

While I empathise with the sentiment, @themoonmothwrites, Victorian hatpins where much bigger than you were probably imagining, and some self-defence classes gave fencing lessons with them. Here's a quote:

Leoti had enough. In a move that would thrill victim of modern-day subway harassment, she reached for her hatpin—nearly a foot long—and plunged it into the meat of the man’s arm. He let out a terrible scream and left the coach at the next stop.

That's from:

[sissytrapjamie]

Jamie you're such an icon! I'm a sissy gayboi faggot just like you and i check your blog line every day! it's so refreshing to see another fakegirl who understands we're at our best when we're embarrassing parodies of femininity! this petticoated femboi is proud to follow your example as a boy-crazy twink and a laughingstock for real women!

I'm glad to hear that! If I'm honest with myself, I could try to detrans back into a real man, but I'd inevitably fail miserably at that too. Petticoated is such a fun way to think about it! The best is being all sissied up but with clear, visible signs of failed maleness underneath. a tiny skirt my manhood will tent in, a top exposing my sorry excuse for a "cleavage" even after all these years, a stringy little thong for my balls to hang out of, not forgetting make up that looks like a child did it.

Real men are so intoxicating when they know how superior they are and take advantage. And I can't help myself simping for real women. They just innately have something I'll never be able to imitate.

[vamp5]

On topic of weird fetish headcanons I believe Juste would be the kinda guy that's like. An eccentric and refined kind of pervert. It's the dichotomy I like of a graceful and elegant looking noble character being a bit of a freak and having demeanor that's a little off putting sometimes. I think he'd be into petticoating ^