#silk hair scarves for women
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virginiablossoms · 1 year ago
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The Ultimate Destination to Buy Silk Hair Scarves for Girls
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Silk scarves have long been a staple in fashion and beauty. Virginia Blossoms appreciate the enduring charm of these refined accessories particularly in accentuating women's style and beauty. Our curated range of silk hair scarves transcends mere fashion trends, embodying a tribute to feminine poise and refinement. Virginia Blossoms is your premier destination whether you are searching for Silk hair scarves for girls or the ideal Winter scarf for women.
Why Choose Silk Hair Scarves?
Silk is an ideal material for hair accessories known for its natural sheen and soft texture. Silk hair scarves protect your hair from damage, reduce frizz and help maintain hairstyles longer. They are particularly beneficial for those with sensitive scalps or hair prone to breakage. These scarves are also incredibly stylish and can elevate any outfit but the benefits of silk don't stop at just hair care.
Versatility in Style
Silk hair scarves from Virginia Blossoms offer remarkable versatility. Style them as a chic headband, an elegant necktie or even as an accent for your ponytail or bun. These scarves infuse your ensemble with a sophisticated flair perfect for any occasion from formal events to casual outings.
A Palette of Colors and Patterns
Virginia Blossoms offer a wide range of colors and patterns in our silk hair scarf collection. There's something for every taste and occasion from classic neutrals to vibrant hues and from floral prints to abstract designs.
The Winter Collection: Stay Warm in Style
As the seasons change so do fashion needs. Our winter collection of silk scarves is not just about style but also about keeping you warm and comfortable. These scarves are thicker and larger, perfect for wrapping around your neck to fend off the chill while adding a fashionable flair to your winter wardrobe.
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Perfect for Every Occasion
Our silk hair scarves and winter scarves are suitable for every setting whether you are attending a business meeting, going out with friends or just enjoying a casual walk in the park. They make fantastic gifts too, especially for the fashion-conscious women in your life.
Quality You Can Trust
Virginia Blossoms prioritize exceptional quality. Each of our silk scarves is crafted from premium materials, guaranteeing both elegance and longevity. You are securing a timeless accessory that will remain a cherished part of your collection for many years.
How to Care for Your Silk Scarf
Taking care of silk is easier than you might think. Gentle hand washing in cold water with a mild detergent is all it takes to keep your scarf looking as good as new. Avoid wringing or twisting the scarf and let it air dry away from direct sunlight.
Join the Virginia Blossoms Family
You are not just buying a scarf when you choose Virginia Blossoms; you are becoming part of a community that values style, quality and customer satisfaction. We are committed to providing our customers with the best shopping experience and are always here to help with any questions or concerns.
Easy Shopping Experience
Our user-friendly website makes it easy to browse and buy silk hair scarves for girls and winter scarves for women. Shopping with us is a breeze with detailed product descriptions, high-quality images and an easy checkout process.
Conclusion
Virginia Blossoms is more than just a brand; it's a promise of elegance, quality and style. Our collection is designed to cater to your fashion needs while ensuring comfort and quality whether you are looking for Silk Hair Scarves for girl or winter scarves. Embrace your style and join the Virginia Blossoms family today!
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g1rlw1th0n33ye3 · 4 months ago
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When the sun goes down.
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Summary ~ Aegon Targaryen II x reader ( no use of y/n cause noo) Aegon finds out something unexpected during his most recent visit to the street of silk.
Warnings- Dubious consent, Drunk sex, its Smut so like yuh know 🧍🏽‍♀️
Also, this is my first fic ever so be nice, please!! I had a day off and a bottle of pink Whitney so here we are! I hope you enjoy also Aegon isn't complete scum of the earth in this story because no that face to pretty for that bad writing and he's not married either Helena and Jace are married and the twins are Jace's kids instead of Aegon's for plot reasons ok enjoy my baby dolls and lemme know if you want a part two!! 🫡
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The hour was late as Aegon made his way through the tunnels of Megors holdfast intent on getting to the street of silk as fast as he could he needed something to destress after another unbearably dreadful family dinner they'd been happening more frequently since Helena had given birth to another baby boy this one with bright white hair unlike the two twin babes heads full of brown curls like there father she had given birth to two years earlier it seems his mother has finally accepted that the delusional idea of annulling the marriage was no longer possible now the two sides would favor being intertwined whether she liked or not though her new urge for family dinners to try and bring the family together prove her delusion is not fully gone. Aegon thinks to himself as he slides himself past the guards. Dressed in his usual common clothes disguised for sneaking about so as not to raise any suspicion to the roaming gold cloaks he kept his hood placed high on his head to hide his white tresses as he bobbed and weaved through the huddles of small folk through the streets of flea bottom till he reached his favorite brothel on the street of silk though he hadn't frequented it in awhile a new brothel full of women from Essos had been keeping him otherwise occupied but tonight he wished to be in the place he called closest to home as he entered hood down looking a disheveled mess the madam had immediately come up to him ready to shoo him off till he took off his hood white hair flowing freely that she stopped in her place and instead ushered over the cupbearer and grabbed a glass of wine from the girls tray and holding it out for Aegon
" my prince we haven't been graced with your presence in some time what a pleasure what can i do for you this fine night my prince" the madam spoke with almost an unnerving smile Aegon looked about the room taking it all in before speaking to the madam "I don't know about a fine night but just keep sending pretty girls to fill my cup for me and I'm sure soon it will be " he said before grabbing the wine and making his way to the pile of pillows and blankets strown around a little make shift stage with a dancer atop as he settled down and began chugging his wine beginning to feel the effects of his drink the whole room starting to feel like a warm mix of colors when he finally gazes upon the dancer he's settled Infront of taking in her beautiful face and body adorned in jewels she looked strangely familiar like a face he new but hadn’t seen in a long time the longer he watched you move the more he feel like he was falling into a dream the way you danced around swirling silk scarves in every direction pulling him in that mixed with his cup of wine the bar maids made sure to never let empty he was sure he was in a dream now, he was suddenly snapped out of his trance when he saw you dismount your makeshift stage and make your way for the stairs that led to the back rooms where the girls slept men weren’t allowed back there cause that’s where many of the other girls left the children to sleep while they worked if he didn’t get to you now you he would be out of luck for the rest of the night, he quickly got up and moved as fast as his drunk limbs would carry himself to get to you before you slipped through his grasp “ you there stop “ he said somehow out of breath from simply getting up to cross the room .
Stopping in your place as you adjust your robe you had finished your final dance of the night and were ready to rest your tired legs on your bed when you hear some drunk fool calling out behind you surly following you to ask for a night of your company though your surprised when you turn and are instead met with a drunken prince falling over himself to get to you. “ My prince i was just about to retire to my chambers but i’d be happy to find you another to serve you for the night” you say forcing a smile on your face “ you look familiar have we met before though i don’t think i would have forgot a night with someone as enticing as you” he whispers the honey laced words to you as he comes closer you try to back up to keep a respectable distance but he’s right on your tale “ y…yes my prince we did spend a night together some three years ago i was much different looking then so it’s understandable your memory fails you and well you were also quiet drunk m’prince “ you reveal hoping it will get him off your back men rarely want the same thing twice in a place like this a shame “ a shame i can’t recall though it just gives us more reason to make new ones “ he’s says leaning in to whisper in your ear his warm breath the smelled of honeyed wined fanning your face words catching in your throat at the way he pressed his nose to the side or your face to breathe in your smell “ I’m sorry to disappoint M’ prince but i’m just a dancer now my company is unfortunately not for sale and the madam would be upset with me for taking client from her actual girls but id be happy to help you find one of them “ you feel him pull away at your words a grunge pained on his face “ I didn’t ask for some other girl i asked to spend my time with you and i don’t see the madam here making sure her costumers are tended to so why don’t we just keep it between us and i give you all this gold i have here one this sack and this here “ he says handing you a fully stuffed bag of gold dragons and the golden ring that adorned his middle finger your jaw particularly drops at the sight of all the gold “ for you just for you not the madam what she knows won’t hurt her and will certainly help you “ he says with a mischievous glint to his eyes you look back down at the small fortune he’s handed you it nearly enough to get you out of this dreadful city
“we can do whatever you want “ he speaks one more time trying to convince you a hopefull drunk sloppy smile painted on his face even you can’t deny is charming “ I… alright”
You led him down the stairs by the hand to your small chambers at the very end of the long hall that held all of you and all the other girls' rooms you quickly pulled him in and turned to lock the door to avoid any prying eyes though it was unlikely anybody would be around at this hour non of the other girls usually made it back to there chambers before the sunrise when you turned from the door you found him sat at the edge of your bed taking off his heavy boots and placing them to the side before getting up and beginning his exploration of your room " did you spend all that coin just to gaze upon my perfumes and lotions " you finally speak trying to break the tension, he chuckles to himself before speaking " Mayhaps I did i mean I did say we could do whatever you wanted so you tell me what I paid for " he says looking at you with that tempting smirk of his " Whatever you'd like to m' prince" you say as you remove your robe to be only left in your dancing clothes if they could even be called that it was two simple strips of silk one covering your breasts and one covering your bottom all connected with a strip of jewels to make a sheer dress. You watch as he watches you as you remove your robe before stalking over to you trapping you between the door and himself. The moment Aegon pinned you between the door and himself, the air crackled with an electric tension. His violet eyes gleamed with mischief as they took in the sight of you, draped in the delicate silk of your attire, expertly designed to entice. “Call me Aegon,” he said softly, his voice low and enticing. “There's no need for formality here, pretty girl.” You tilted your head slightly, a playful smile gracing your lips. “Aegon,” you replied, letting his name roll off your tongue with a hint of teasing. It felt daring, refreshing, in a world filled with whispers and expectations. “What do you want?” he asked, leaning in just a fraction closer, his breath warm against your skin. You could feel the weight of his presence, drawing you in like a moth to a flame. A smirk danced across your face as you countered, “What do you want, Aegon?” It was a bold question, not typically asked of a prince, but you had learned to navigate these encounters with a blend of charm and confidence. He paused, a glimmer of surprise flashing in his eyes. “I want to know you—beyond what I see in this place. For tonight, I want to escape the constraints of my title and be just a man in your presence.” Your heart raced at his words, intrigued by this unexpected vulnerability. “Then let’s embrace that freedom together,” you suggested, eager for an evening untethered from convention. With a swift, graceful movement, you stepped closer, the silk of your dress brushing against him. “I must admit, I don’t often get to entertain a prince,” you said, your voice rich with playful mischief. Aegon chuckled, clearly delighted by your banter. “I’m not like the others, I assure you.”
As the tense atmosphere thickened between you, you could feel your pulse quickening. Every heartbeat echoed the electric pull between you—a magnetic attraction that begged to be explored. “Can I…?” he began, hesitation lacing his voice as he searched your eyes for permission.You nodded, breath catching in your throat. “Please,” you whispered, excitement pooling in your stomach. Aegon leaned in, capturing your lips with his in a soft but eager kiss. The taste of him sent shivers racing through your body, igniting a flame of desire that radiated from your core. You melted against him, feeling his warmth envelop you as he deepened the kiss.His hands found your waist, fingers sliding under the silk of your dress, caressing your skin with a slow, tantalizing touch. You gasped into his mouth, a mixture of surprise and longing coursing through you.
“Beautiful ,” he murmured against your lips, his breath hot as he pulled back just enough to search your eyes. With a surge of confidence, you leaned in, kissing him again, more fervently this time, deepening the connection that was rapidly spiraling into something primal. You could feel his heartbeat racing alongside yours, the tension thickening in the space around you. As he kissed you, his hands traveled further up your sides, gripping your waist with a firm but gentle hold. You arched into him, yearning for more, your body responding instinctively. Aegon used the momentum to press you back against the wall, the solid surface grounding you as he pressed his body closer, molding you against him. “Do you want this?” he whispered, his lips brushing against your ear, igniting a rush of desire. “Yes,” you breathed, feeling the heat flush your cheeks. “I want you.” His gaze ignited with hunger at your words, and he captured your lips again, kissing you deeply, as if he were trying to consume you whole. “Let’s move to the bed,” he suggested, voice gravelly as he pulled back, clearing the space to carry you. Without waiting for an answer, he swept you off your feet, lifting you into his arms effortlessly. You gasped, your heart racing as he carried you to your simple bed draped in soft, inviting silks to seem more lavish . He gently laid you down on the mattress, hovering above you, his violet eyes burning with fervor. The anticipation making your body ache for his touch as Aegon slipped lower, trailing kisses along your body. He kissed down your neck, over your collarbone, and down to the swell of your breasts, but he didn’t stop there. His eyes darkened with desire as he made his way down your torso, his lips leaving a trail of fire in their wake. “Let me taste you,” he murmured, glancing up at you for permission. The intense anticipation made your breath hitch, and all you could do was nod, overwhelmed by the way he looked at you, like a man starved.
He nestled between your legs, and as he kissed the soft skin of your inner thigh, your body tingled with excitement. The heat of his breath against your most sensitive areas made you squirm, the anticipation driving you wild. With teasing slowness, Aegon’s mouth found your core. The moment his tongue made contact lapping t your senstive bud, a gasp escaped your throat. His tongue moved with a masterful grace, licking and swirling, expertly coaxing pleasure from you. “Oh, Aegon,” you moaned, your fingers tangling in his short curls as he pressed closer, the sensations building rapidly within you. He drank you in, sounds of your pleasure encouraging him, urging him to explore further. “Just like that,” you gasped, hips instinctively rocking against him. The pleasure he gave you was overwhelming, a wave of ecstasy that swept through you, threatening to consume you. He moved with determination, using his tongue to tease and tantalize, exploring every sensitive spot with the precision of a skilled lover. Each flick sent jolts of pleasure sparking through your body, pushing you closer to the edge. You could feel your breathing becoming erratic, each gentle stroke igniting an inferno deep inside you. “I’m so close,” you gasped, unable to restrain the sounds bubbling from deep within. Aegon heightened his pace, his mouth working you to the brink, the pressure building so exquisitely that you could hardly believe it. The world faded away, leaving only the two of you, lost in an intimate dance of pleasure. With a final surge of intensity, you cried out, your body arching as waves of bliss crashed over you, holding you captive in a sweet surrender. The sensation consumed you, leaving you breathless and blissfully spent. He emerged from between your thighs, a smug smile gracing his lips as he wiped them with the back of his hand. “You taste even better than I imagined,” he teased, his eyes sparkling with satisfaction. Now, with your body humming from pleasure, you pulled him in for a hungry kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. The heat between you flared back to life as your bodies tangled, the urgency of your connection surging once more. With renewed desire, you whispered, “Now I need you inside me.” His eyes darkened with longing at your words. “I can make that happen,” he replied, his fingers hastily shedding his trousers, to release his aching cock. He hastily positioned himself at your entrance, rubbing his leaking cock head over your weeping slit before slowly, achingly, pushing his cock inside you, breaking through the last barriers that kept you apart. You gasped, a mixture of pleasure and fullness consuming you as he filled you so completely. With a deep, primal urgency, he began to thrust, the rhythm of your bodies a perfect match. Each movement sent shockwaves of pleasure radiating through you, driving you both toward the brink. “Just like that,” you urged, feeling the tension within you build with every thrust. “Tell me how good it feels,” he demanded, his voice low and gravelly as he continued to drive into you, at a frantic pace
“It feels … uh soo good, Aegon i’m so close ,” you moaned, feeling your body tighten around him, welcoming him deeper. “ Me to sweet girl, me too “ he panted into your neck as he continued to pound into you cunt your sweet little sounds spurring him on the heat between you both intensified, and with one final thrust, you both reached your peak, aegon not bothering to pull out as his cock spent itself inside you continuing his thrusts till he could no longer handle it falling flat on top of your sweaty form cock still sheathed inside your cunt you can hear his panting breathes beginning to even out and him began to drift away to slumber your about to protest and tell him he’s crushing you and he can’t sleep here when he scoops you up flipping you both over so your rested on top of him instead head placed right over his heart the soft beating lulling you away to. Just one moment like this wouldn’t be so bad you think to yourself just a minute and you’ll wake him up and tell him he has to go but for now you will enjoy the warmth of his body and the soothing rhythm of his heart beat lulling you to bed.
The soft hues of morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the lavish room. You slowly stirred awake, wrapped in the comfort of the sheets, a sense of bliss enveloping you as memories of the previous night flooded your mind. Aegon lay beside you, his face relaxed in peaceful slumber, the warmth of his body a comforting presence.
You couldn’t help but smile, feeling a mix of affection and excitement. Last night had been a whirlwind of passion and connection—something you hadn’t anticipated when you first saw him. Stretching slightly, you turned to him, admiring the way the morning light danced on his features. But as the reality sank in, urgency washed over you; you had to get Aegon out of here before anyone else in the brothel woke up. “Aegon!” you whispered urgently, gently shaking his shoulder. Before he could fully process your words, the door flung open with a loud bang, and an adorable little girl burst into the room. She had bright, tousled white hair and wide, lilac eyes that darted around, filled with a mix of anxiety and determination. “Mama!” she called, her voice filled with sweet yet panicked urgency. The sight of her jolted both you and Aegon wide awake. He shot upright, confusion etched on his face as he took in the scene before him. “Who is that?” Aegon asked, his voice laced with shock, turning from you to the little girl. You felt your heart race. “Anya, honey, what are you doing here?” you asked, trying to maintain a calm demeanor. “I woke up and couldn’t find you!” she said, her tone shifting as she caught sight of Aegon. “Who’s he, Mama?” Aegon’s brow furrowed as he took in Anya's features, realizing that she had the same bright white hair and lilac eyes as him . “Anya?” he murmured, a sense of recognition dawning on him as he thought out every possibility of who the girls father could be but Daemon hadn’t been to kings landing in Five years since jace’s wedding and this girl couldn’t be older then three, aemond was to preoccupied with his old bat to be fathering bastards and there was no way his father was visiting the street of silk in his declining health there was only one answer . “Is… is she mine?” You felt the weight of the unsaid truth crush you. “….Yes,” you confirmed, your voice barely above a whisper. “But this isn't the right time to discuss it. Aegon, you need to leave!” His expression shifted from shock to something deeper—fear mixed with a desperate need for understanding. “Leave? I can’t just leave without knowing the truth! Three years ago… that night—” he stumbled over his words, his hands clenching into fists, eyes wide with anxiety. “Is she really…? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Mama, why is he scared?” Anya asked innocently, her small hand gripping the edge of your dress, sensing the rising tension.
“Aegon,” you urged, feeling panic swell within you. “Please, I promise I’ll explain everything, but not here. She shouldn’t hear this right now.”
But Aegon wasn’t backing down. “I can’t just disappear, not when I might actually have a daughter. What if I never get to know her?”
Your mind raced, torn between the instinct to protect Anya and Aegon's desperate plea for answers. Anya looked up at Aegon, her bright eyes shining with curiosity. “You look like me!” she said, a huge grin spreading across her face. “You have my hair and eyes!”
Aegon knelt down, his expression softening as he glanced at her. “You’re right,” he said, the fear in his voice giving way to wonder. “You’re beautiful, just like your mama.”
A wave of emotions washed over you as you watched them together. The reality of this moment settled heavily in your chest. “Aegon, if you’re going to be in her life you have to do what best for her and right now isn’t the time to put this all on her give me a day or two to talk to her then you guys can meet properly” you say trying to give him something “ Alright he says two days I'll be back “ he says not looking away from your daughters face before trapping her in a hug you can see the tears in his eye as he grabs his cloak and shoes layed about the room so he can go not forgetting to leave you the sack of coin and all the rings on his hands before he leaves before you can protest he speaks “ For anything you and her need I'll be back i promise “ he goes to close the door and leave you before turning back around to speak once more “ Goodbye Anya it was a pleasure to meet “ you can here him holding back tears as he speaks only going when Anya waved him off with a toothy grin and a bye bye “ He was nice mama” Anya says when he’s finally gone you smile at her words coming down to her level to meet her bright lilac orbs “ Yes.. yes he was sweet girl now should we get something to break our fast “ you say reaching out for her little hand.
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that-butch-archivist · 7 months ago
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"Today, I am wearing my hair long and permed into full curls around my face, tying it up in sheer, silken scarves. I often choose to be late for a date rather than go out feeling "unfinished," which some days means a little powder and Chap Stick and other days means a total makeover. I wear long silk shirts and fluffy sweaters when I want, and regard the word pretty as a compliment again. Still, I know I am regarded as a failure and even a traitor by many in this [lesbian] club because I suffer occasional self-recrimination for being a size sixteen instead of a size six, because I enjoy wearing miniskirts and stockings, because I apparently care about and conform to the opinions of the "wrong" people (people in that other world who label us unacceptable or unfit). They say I am selling out, catering to patriarchy, being codependent on my mother and her opinions. Choose your descriptors, choose your chains. Too often, the saleswomen of the so-called freedom are more like the neo-conservatives and fundamentalists of the world, who say, "Do it our way or don't expect any privileges." They are not selling us the right to be who we want to be, they are selling us the right to be what they believe we should want to be. Sometimes, those rights are the same thing. More often, they are not. And when they are not, worlds may collide in a firestorm of indignation, embarrassment, and rage. I want that freedom they sold me. I want the freedom to love women, passionately and overwhelmingly. I want the freedom to love them the way I want, whether I wear a lace dress or jeans, whether I wear press-on nails or no lipstick. I want the freedom to feel sexy at 170 pounds. I want to do aerobics without resorting to stealth maneuvers. And I want the freedom to be who I am, without embarrassment or fear. I want no exceptions, no contingencies, no caveats. And if our community cannot--or will not--grant that freedom, I, and those like me, the rebel-conformists if you will, will take it. We will even steal it if we must. They'll be surprised at how fast we can run in those tight skirts and pumps."
- An excerpt from "Supercolliding over a Twinkie: Angry Musings from a Femme in the Deep South," an essay written by Constance Lynne and found in The Femme Mystique. (Emphasis in bold my own.)
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assortedseaglass · 1 year ago
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Talk Refined - Chapter One
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Michael Gavey x Reader
[Masterlist]
Summary: When Michael Gavey unwittingly insults a fellow Oxford student, they enter into a game of intellectual cat and mouse.
Content Warnings (this chapter in bold): Language, Smut, Saltburn Spoilers
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Pool was never your forte. Truth be told, you were more of a darts girl. There was something though, in the soft click of the balls knocking together and the damp thunk of them landing in the pocket that scratched an itch on your over-worked mind.
Hilary term was coming to an end, and with it brought the dread that your extended essay title had been submitted. ‘“For the sake of some colour;” women as decoration, in response to Turner’s High Street, Oxford (1810)””. No going back now.
You’d escaped the January madness that had descended on your best friend, Esme. Like most other courses, she had exams at the start of the new year and spent her days in the library and nights in the pub. Much like now, come to think of it.
“You’re up,” you called to your friend as you missed potting a red. “Esme!”
“Sorry! Sorry,” she shimmied between the pool table and a few pub patrons, taking her cue in hand and leaning over the felt green. Click, thunk. A yellow sank into the corner pocket.
“Who were you talking to?” You indicated a man in his early twenties, eyeing up Esme’s backside as she leant over the table to reach another yellow.
“Bartender,” she missed the ball and passed the cue back over the table. You took it and swiftly potted a red. “Nice one. Just borrowing this,” she lit her cigarette with a metal lighter. When she was done, she tossed it back to the bartender and he winked.
The two of you’d met at a humanities and arts, inter-college social less than two weeks into your first term. Dress as your subject and be ready for a night of frivolity even Elagabalus couldn’t imagine. You’d found some of silk scarves in a charity shop, bought cheap pearls from Primark and gone as the Girl with a Pearl Earring. Outside the Blenheim was where you first spotted her. Dressed in a bedsheet draped as a peplos, she had climbed a lamppost and was swigging wine straight from the bottle. That is a girl I want to be friends with, you’d thought, and promptly beelined for her and begged for the bottle.
“You doing philosophy?” You asked after chugging the cheap merlot.
“Classics. And you, I’m guessing history-”
“History of art, yeah.”
The next morning, you’d woken in her dorm room at Brasenose, the autumn sunlight blinding and your breath smelling as if something had crawled inside you and died there. Esme didn’t mind. Her mouth was stained red from the wine and a hickey the size of Brazil adorned her neck. You’d been inseparable ever since.
“Bollocks,” you missed potting a red and, as Esme swept to grab to pool cue, the pub erupted in song.
“RUBY RUBY RUBY RUBY!”
“Ahah ahah ahaaaaaaaah!” Esme sang the refrain in your ear as she twirled you round, the cue discarded on the table.
“DO YA DO YA DO YA DO YA!?”
“Fuck’s sake,” It was hard not to smile despite your best efforts. You felt like a twat but no-one was looking at you. All were too busy singing to notice the two tipsy girls dancing by the pool table. In any case, the only person whose opinion mattered to you was the one spinning you in her arms. One wayward spin and bumped you into the pool table. Giggling, you opened your arms to be embraced once more-
“Oh shit,” Esme whispered hastily, suddenly standing straight and flattening her hair. “Got any lip gloss?”
“Erm,” you patted your pockets. “No sorry.”
“Damn,”
“Who’ve you seen?” you smirked, standing by your best friend’s shoulder and following her line of sight. Well, it could have been any number of students in the packed pub. There were some rugby lads, double polos with both collars popped. Pretty boy Felix Catton and his posse of poshos. It could have even been that girl Eleanor, now greeting a friend at the bar. Esme and Eleanor hooked up at the Brasenose Christmas party. Esme said it was “unexpected” and “not her usual flavour”, but you’d met her once after tutorial, and the way she looked at her tutor’s bottom as it wiggled down the corridor in her Peacock’s pencil skirt was not one of envy. “Well?” You asked impatiently. “Who is it?”
“There, blue check shirt, dark hair.” Esme pointed at the bar where such a man was standing. Two pints of lager in hand, he turned and seemed to look around the pub. “Cute, isn’t he? He’s at Brasenose too, doing English I think.”
“Oh right.” As a Wadham girl, you had never seen this boy before. You supposed he was quite good-looking, in a boy-next-door sort of way. You thought perhaps he would be bonny, were it not for the solemn expression on his face. He meandered through the crowd to a small table at which sat another boy.
The two were starkly different. Where Esme’s boy was dark haired, the other was fair. Esme’s boy was stocky, but even sat down the other was gangly, and while Esme’s boy clearly wasn’t an avid reader of Esquire, the blond boy looked like he’d rolled around Oxfam’s bargain bin in total darkness and worn whatever stuck; a pair of baggy cargo shorts pulled up far too high and cinched tightly with a black belt, a pair of Merrell trainers and a novelty tshirt. THIS IS HOW I ROLL. Below the wording was an anagram and equation.
If it weren’t for the middle-aged glasses and frankly atrocious haircut, he’d be quite good looking too. Two Oxford virgins; Trinny and Susannah’s wet dream.
“What’s his name then?”
“Oliver, I think.” Esme was licking her lips and fussing with her bangles.
“You look great,” you swatted at her hand. “And the other one?”
“No idea. They’re always hanging around together. Oliver,” she said his name with some uncertainty. “Oliver never says anything, the other one’s always talking a mile a minute but I haven’t really seen him about. Doesn’t go to any parties.”
“Him and the girl with-”
“Agoraphobia.” You said in unison. The characters of Esme’s college were more vivid to you now than those in a Dickens novel.
“I bet he does maths,”
“I told you, he does English.”
“No,” you tut. “The other one.”
“I reckon it’s physics.”
“Put a pint on it?”
“You’re on,” Esme smacked your hip. “Come on, there’s a table by the bar.”
Following the plume of her cigarette smoke, Esme led you to the sticky wooden table and ordered you a pint of Thatchers. She, a pint of Stella. At the table beside you both, Maybe Oliver and The Other One were talking quickly. Well, the maths-slash-physics boy was. Maybe Oliver was staring distractedly towards the other end of the pub. You looked over your shoulder. Felix Catton was settling down with another round of beers, his stupid eyebrow piercing gleaming in the low pub lights.
“Swap with me,” Esme whispered.
“What?”
“Swap with me so I can look at Oliver.”
You sighed and stood up, shuffling round the table to sit parallel to Oliver. Esme smiled at him as she sat down and he smiled back. When she giggled, you kicked her under the table. Now across from maths-slash-physics, you could see him clearly.
This close, you stood by your assessment that he could have been handsome. His light eyes were framed by not just those hideous glasses but thick, dark lashes. He had a jawline and cheekbones that would make Agyness Deyn jealous. His lips, though strangely curved were plump, and he had a distracting habit of frequently wetting them. But there was something so distinctly and undefinably creepy about him. He talked like a snake, quickly with hissed “s”s and “t”s. You noticed with unease that he barely blinked as he watched for any minutia in his friend’s reaction, and he moved with an almost jerky stiffness. All elbows and angles. This strange combination of beautiful and revolting made him impossible to ignore. Like catching yourself in the mirror after dying your hair. A strange feeling of the uncanny.  
He caught your eye, sensing you staring at him, and you quickly glanced at Esme. Shit. She’d been talking to you about something.
“-of course, it’s easy to compare the Iliad and the Aeneid, but really they’re very different.”
Aha. She was trying to impress, hoping Maybe Oliver would hear. “Oh yes?” You leant forward on your arm and wiggled your eyebrows at her. “Tell me more.”
Esme was clearly delighted that you’d cottoned on to her plan. Brushing her hair from her shoulders and leaning forward too, she continued. “Well, you have to start with the language. One is Greek and one is Latin. Now, we go through this in linguistics. Everyone has to get up to speed with their Greek and Latin so we’re all on the same level-”
You giggled and she kicked you under the table. Esme knew you already knew this and didn’t care. You knew that Esme was just showboating. When you kicked her back she got the giggles and glanced at Maybe Oliver. His eyes were still trained on the back of the pub, and she sighed, taking a gulp of beer. In perfect symmetry, you drank your cider and in the lull you admired the lengths your friend went to flirt with a seemingly average boy.
“-Jameson spends the whole time staring at her tits, completely ignoring the fact she can barely do her times tables.”
Esme choked a little on her drink and your eyebrows shot upwards with barely contained glee. This was far more interesting. You and Esme watched each other, communing telepathically about the intriguing conversation between the boys next to you.
“-times tables, Oliver!”
“Told you it was maths!” You whispered at Esme. Without a word, she got up with a smile to buy you another pint.
“-just fuck off and do history of art, love, save us all the trouble!”
You stilled in your seat, cider halfway to your lips. Did he just-? You ran the sentence over in your mind. “Fuck off and do history of art, love, save us all the trouble.” It wasn’t the first time you’d encountered snobbery about your selected study. Friends from school deemed it “hoity-toity,” and even your parents had worried about your career prospects.
“But what can you actually do with a history of art degree?”
You’d thought Oxford would be different. Surrounded by other young minds, eager for knowledge and an appreciation of the world around them, freshly opened up like your first bottle of champagne; long-awaited, exciting and with a little bit of bite. Just for the adults.
“Excuse me?” Your heart was pounding in your chest as you leant over a little and smiled at the pair of boys. You were proud of your subject but that eagerness to prove its, and your, worth was impossible to ignore. Oliver and Maths Boy looked at you.  “Do you,” you cleared your throat. “What’s wrong with history of art?”
The gangly boy scoffed and turned rigidly in his chair to face you. Like most other nerds, you’d expected him to shy away from anyone outside of his carefully selected circle. This boy, however, seemed to take up an enormous space in your mind. He was confident. Already taken aback by his vicious comment, that threw you even more.
“What’s wrong with it? It’s an easy option that’s become an elitist haven for the middle class.” He pushed his glasses up his long nose with a bony finger. “You ever met any of those ‘students’?” He put air quotes around that last word and you flinched, neck bristling with anger. You doubt he’d have noticed if you put your top over your head and did the Cupid Shuffle; he continued as if nothing happened.
“Load of public-school wankers spouting their useless opinions on aristocrats lounging about in gilded frames, just so they can justify getting a job in daddy’s gallery. It’s an irrelevant, niche subject for people who think their view of the world is superior to us mere plebs’.”
“Michael,” Oliver murmured. He turned to you, not quite looking you in the eye. “Sorry-”
“Here’s your pint,” Esme placed another Thatchers before you. Both you and “Michael” ignored your friends.
“You think it’s irrelevant?” You took a swig of cider without taking your eyes off him. Angry little prick, this fella. You knew the like; maths, physics, economics, law. The students were all the same. Thinking they were better than everyone else because they could swan off into the sunset with £40k job straight out of uni and reap the benefits that the arts provided them without any need to know better. The designer clothes and fast cars, the beautiful buildings they worked in, the nails on the woman ripping open the condom wrapper…
“What’s irrelevant?” Esme said brightly. She held out her hand for Oliver. “Esme, hi.”
“Oliver-”
“History of art, apparently.” You said haughtily.
“Ouch. Who said that?” Esme sat down beside you, still smiling at Oliver.
“Michael.”
“Who’s Michael?”
“Michael Gavey.” The man in question announced himself by extending a long arm in Esme’s direction. She shook his with slight shock and raised her eyebrows at Oliver. He lowered his head in shame.
“Our girl here’s a history of art student.” Esme patted your hand. If you, Esme and Oliver expected this to soften Michael, it didn’t work.
“Ah,” he smiled, mirth lighting his eyes. “That’s why you’re so tetchy. Which school was it then? Cheltenham? Roedean?”
“She went to state comp actually,” Ever your champion, Esme came to your defence.
“Scholarship student?” Michael sneered.
“No,” you rebuffed quickly.
“What’s wrong with that? Me and Oliver here are.”
“Nothing You were the one trying to get me to say it was.”
Michael smiled with satisfaction and an awkward silence fell between the four of you. The clink of glasses and drunken chatter continued around you. This wasn’t the first charged student encounter that had happened in this pub, nor would it be the last.
“I suppose you think maths is superior?” You folded your arms and raised an eyebrow. A challenge. Prove it then.
“Of course it is,”
It was your turn to scoff. “Why can’t there be room for both?”
“There is room for both. Mathematics is just more important.”
“Jesus,” Oliver rubbed his hands over his face.
“Mathematics is the foundation for everything. The modern world as we know it wouldn’t exist without it. Technology, healthcare, finance, governance, everything. It prevents chaos. Without mathematics, society would collapse.” He fidgeted in his chair to turn more vividly towards you, his hands excitedly grasping for something in front of him that didn’t exist. Maths, probably. “We create predictions and complex design systems so that life as we know it can exist, and continue to exist.”
He looked at you as though you should have been impressed. You supposed his excitement was quite sweet. In truth, you knew maths was important. History of art student though you were, you weren’t an idiot. You were at one of the world’s top universities for God’s sake.
“But what’s the point of existing if there’s nothing to enjoy? To live for?”
“Pardon?” What had he expected? For you to roll over and kiss his feet? Take him round the back of the pub for a quick knee tremble? “Oh yes, Michael, tell me more about Fermat’s conjecture! More! More!”
“Art is what makes life worth living for. Its history helps us understand politics, religions, societies and peoples of the past.”
“All that from staring at a Bruegels?” Michael looked at Oliver with a laugh, hoping for back up. Oliver was tearing up a beer mat.
“Yes!”
“Well, it’s never done anything for me.”
His arrogance and ignorance was astounding. This final comment was the drop that sent you overflowing with exasperation. “Yes it has,” you snapped. Michael glared at you. “Aside from what I literally just said, art has done everything for you. Take today for example.”
At this, Michael sat forward. He couldn’t resist a reasoned argument with concrete evidence.
“You woke up this morning at Brasenose, is it?” He nodded. “At Brasenose, in a dorm with Carol Vorderman posters on the walls, posters designed by graphic designers who studied art. Those posters line the walls of a building almost five hundred years old. From barely known architects to Powell and Moya, each added to its history with their extensive understanding of art and beauty. For some reason you then got up and decided to put on that God awful tshirt which, although many would believe otherwise, was designed to be aesthetically pleasing or visually arresting. The latter it certainly is. There you go. Art.” You were on a role.
“I’m assuming you had lectures or tutorial today? The book you read? The covers were made by, you guessed it, artists. You came here with Oliver and decided to get a craft beer because you’re a pretentious prick, and got the darker of the two because, and I agree with you here, the label is prettier. You’re gonna go home in an hour or two when you’ve had one too many pints and ogled that pretty girl at the bar,” you pointed at Eleanor. “Whose thong caught your eye above her low rises. Fashion? That’s art by the way and extremely influential on society ‘as we know it’.” You quoted him back and loved the way his lips quirked into a tight line.
“And thinking of her and her pretty thong, you’ll whack out ZOO mag and whack out a swift one over some big-titted page three girl in a pair of lace knickers that were designed by someone with a fashion degree. Art.”
Esme and Oliver stared at you. A manic, self-satisfied smile was plastered on your face, and when you downed your pint to cool down from the warmth that outpouring had exerted, Oliver actually smiled. Michael said nothing. Did nothing. He was entirely, utterly unreadable. You wanted to smack him.
He glanced from you to Esme, to Oliver and at last to his pint. Like you had done, he picked it up, finish it in three gulps and placed it back on the table. “Oh, sweet baby Jesus.” What the fuck was he talking about? He spoke to his friend as if you and Esme had ceased to exist. “Going for a slash. Get me another pint please, Oliver? Thanks.” He stood from his chair, unfurling like a stick insect, and made purposefully for the gents’.
Your mouth fell open. Esme chuckled nervously. “He’s a charmer,” she said to Oliver.
“Yeah, ‘scuse,” he muttered, shuffling awkwardly to the bar.
You both sat in your chairs, baffled silence befalling of you. “Well, no double dates for us then.” Esme said.
You laughed. “No date for you fullstop.”
“Yeah,” Esme glanced at the bar where Oliver was now waving at someone. You watched as he made his way over to Felix Catton and his friends. “Bit dull, wasn’t he?”
“Yeah,” Oliver sat down as the rest of the posho’s table cheered. “Though if he’s friends with Felix Catton…?”
“Didn’t realise you were so shallow?” Esme teased.
“I’m not! But the parties, Esme, the parties!”
“I know, I know, I’ll remember that Christmas one forever. Oh God, here he comes,” Esme shrank in her seat. Michael was weaving through the crowd back towards the table.
“Why isn’t he going to sit with Felix and Oliver?” You whispered. “He better not be coming back here.”
You and Esme watched as his approached slowed, faltering when he noticed Oliver and his pint were missing. He glanced around, looking at his feet as if to find Oliver on the floor. It was painful. Watching the realisation dawn on his face. You and Esme knew it before he did.
A hand raised in the air; he had spotted Oliver at Felix’s table. You watched, with pity and embarrassment, as Michael waved and Oliver turned away.
“Shit,” Esme said.
Hand moving to push up his glasses, Michael, with head hung low, left.
“Shit,” Esme said again. “Bet you feel like a bitch for shouting at him now.”
And despite his pomp and arrogance, his cynicism and creepiness, you really did feel awful.
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Notes: The amount of research I did for this was wholly unnecessary. Added some links because 2006/2007 was quite a place. The script hit me like a fucking train. It says, “Back with Michael: CRUSHED.”
Many thanks to @thecruel for their help with the transcript of the Saltburn pub scene, and to @ewanmitchellcrumbs for the Michael Gavey inspo, your headcanons are always spot on.
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Tags: @lexwolfhale* @theoneeyedprince @lovebittenbyevans @fan-goddess @ellrond @very-straight-blog @arcielee @tsujifreya @liv-cole @myfandomprompts @annoyingkittydetective* @elizarbell @solisarium @thekinslayersswordhand @nightdiamond8663* @slowlysparklyninja* @kate-to-the-ki @bellaisasleep @xxxkat3xxx @lacebvnny @moonriseoverkyoto @ewanmitchellcrumbs @moonlightfoxx @pendragora @aemonds-holy-milk @st-eve-barnes @sapphire-writes @babyblue711 @targaryenrealnessdarling @slytherincursebreaker @bottlesandbarricades @valeskafics @anjelicawrites @exitpursuedbyavulcan @barbieaemond @chattylurker @itbmojojoejo @humanpurposes @cyeco13 @heimtathurs @in-a-mountain-pool
*could not tag
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koras-human-warriors · 5 months ago
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how do u design outfits? also, what are the nearby villages opinions on the clans?
Thank you for asking!!! Asks fuel my passion! Long post warning!
Outsiders
Instead of kittypets and rouges, we got the outsider settlements, which are just basically generic, 1800's European settlers and farmers.
The outsiders rarely interact with the clans outside of trading, seeing them as either savages or bandits- not helped by Bloodclan. When the clans were young, there were a lot of issues with fights breaking out between Thunderclan, Shadowclan, Skyclan, and these villages. The clans had a bad habit or raiding the villiages for and the villagers thought the clans were godless heathens. This reached its peak when once of the nearby villages had enough and burned down Skyclan's entire settlement and driving them out.
This being said, many outsiders do see the clans as being cool- afterall that's how we got our white boy Firestar!
Clan Fashion!
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Thunderclan
their outfits are pretty medieval northern European and viking inspired. They raise sheep, so they get a lot of wool, which is both worn and traded. Warriors will often wear the pelts of the animals and monsters they kill for bragging rights. This makes them great for cold weather, but summers are rough. Jewelry is usually worn by women, but earrings are popular among men. Thunderclan clothes are not all that colorful because they have a higher need for camouflage. Thunderclan is, unfortunately, not the best with hygiene (stinky), but they are pretty good about taking care of their hair. Clan color is red and gold, which they wear red during clan gatherings and battles to distinguish the clan apart.
Windclan
Inspired vaguely by Eastern Asian Cultures - mostly Japan (I was a weeboo when I made this au, sorry). Since they have a lot more open land than the other clans, they invested in more farms over hunting, which has resulted in being able to get better clothing either through crafting or trade. They have a silk farm that produces good fabric for the clan, with the extra being traded to outsiders or in clan gatherings. This alos allowes their garments to be lightweight and easy to move in. They have very colorful clothes since they rely on stealth a lot less than others. Green is their clan color, so it the most popular. Hygiene is really important to them and hold spiritual significance (though this may be the medicine folks trying to get people to take better care of their bodies). Long hair is popular among older warriors, but younger, less experienced warriors are encouraged to keep it short because hair pulling is a classic shadowclan move.
Riverclan
Clothing is mostly Greek and Roman with a hint of Pacific islander for their tattoos and jewelry. Riverclaners spean 90% of their day in or around water, so they wear very little clothes in their daily life. Man rarely even wear shirts- showing off as much of their ceremonial warrior tattoos as possible. They don't have much room for growing cotton or raising animals, so they get most of that through trade (or stealing from Thunderclan). Jewelry is huge for both sexes.-both seen with some sort of colorful shell or shiny stone somewhere on their bodies. Their hygiene is okay... they wash often, but they always smell a little like seaweed or fish. Clan color is blue!
Shadowclan
Unlike the other clans, Shadowclan is not strongly linked to any specific culture. Instead, seeing as how they have a long history of letting in outsiders and they are seen as suspicious by the other clans, I made the pirate like! They wear pretty similar clothing to the outsiders that I've next door. Practical clothing is preferred to stylish stuff - if you wear jewelry flashy colors, they are gonna make fun of you. Most Shadowclaners keep their hair short because it is easier to keep the mud and bugs out. Women and medicine wear scarves or wraps over their hair for both religious reasons and to keep their hair from getting damaged. Hygiene wise, they are trying their best. Clan color is purple.
All clans wear custom cat masks for ceremony and battle
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pynkhues · 4 days ago
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examples:
“he's extremely fashion forward and wears brighter colors and more adventurous color combinations than his straight black peers, he wears little silk scarves and keeps his nails well groomed which his mother literally calls effeminate, he had a conk and finger waves in the 1910 when most black men at the time wore their natural hair but short, similar to styles we see today like the low taper, his mannerisms like placing his hand on his chest, his hand gestures when he talks, the way he walks and his posture, the tone and cadence he speaks with, the way he sits with his legs crossed at the knee or the ankle, are all traits and behaviors that are seen as feminine in black culture and yet people will dismiss those behaviors as evidence of him being masculine because they will not take the time to think about how the lens of blackness changes gender presentation” source: https://www.tumblr.com/nashvillethotchicken/770145454745911296/people-are-misunderstanding-this-post-so-let-me
tweets such as this thread and the tweets it’s qrting and their replies: https://x.com/gaptoothsupreme/status/1873769507980034438?s=46
jacob basing louis’ mannerisms off of two black women (eartha kitt & grace jones plus david bowie, a gnc man) see - https://x.com/maymayamai/status/1867911021438095557?s=46
plus you have armand clearly mocking louis’ fem mannerism in 2x05, etc…
Thanks! I'm replying to this in good faith, anon, so I hope that you take it that way, but to start with, the costume designer, Carol's talked pretty specifically about the influences for Louis' style, and that person's right, he's very fashion forward and stylish, but the reason he stands out more against the other men on the show is because Carol deliberately dresses the humans down to make them look like livestock and the vampires stand out. She talked about both Louis being stylish and the background actors in this Q&A on the AMC website here. I've included the specific quote about her influences and choices below:
Q: Since there are large time jumps that happen within Season 1, did you earmark certain decade specific fashion statements that you just had to include? A: Yeah, for sure. One of the ways that I approached the vampires was looking at what was going on across the board during that period. New Orleans was a very different slice of life than the rest of the United States. Fashion was coming out of Paris, then even New York was just a step behind Paris, but down in New Orleans they were a few steps behind New York as far as being fashion-forward. One of my concepts for the background actors was to create this feeling that they're all on the menu, they're all basically mammals. So, I cultivated this look for them that, no matter what time period they were in, they always kind of felt like livestock. They always had a very pedestrian look of the day that showed that it was hard living in New Orleans. Their clothes were well-worn. They were kind of sweaty and their life was gritty. There was a very warm and textured reality to them. That allowed our vampires to kind of dance across the top of them as the stars, as the movie stars, as the most elegant. For Louis starting out, he had several iconic looks. His fashion showed how he was struggling between two sides of himself when Lestat found him. He had a Booker T. Washington look, a look that showcases the entrepreneurial spirit and celebration of education and Black business owners, and it was a more austere look. Then for his nightlife look, I was inspired by Black vaudeville. Not what the men were wearing on stage, but what the men were wearing in their lives, which Louis would have been aware of. They were extremely dapper men, and they had a celebrity air to them. In order to survive, Louis has to be impeccable. He has to have a showmanship about him that serves as a layer within his defense mechanisms. There were so many pieces to the puzzle that got us to where we were visually with both of Louis and Lestat. 
Silk scarves were also extremely common for men in the 1910s. There's an article here about men's fashion in this era, if you're interested, which includes an entire section on it, and some examples of men's scarves and tie ads. I've included the pic of the two of them below:
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And the point about Louis' hair having fingerwaves or a conk is a really interesting one, but I Googled out of curiosity, and it was apparently popular by the 1920s, which accounts for a lot of the Rue Royale era, even if Louis was an early adopter.
As for the nails, that scene happens after he's turned and he literally has claws? I've always taken that to be less about his grooming and more the fact that he suddenly has long, pointed nails which - - yeah. Further others him from his mother who's clearly already unable to accept the fact that her son is gay and living with another man.
As for the traits and movements, that's pretty hard for me to comment on, because you're asking me to take that post at face value because they're not providing any evidence to back-up what they're saying, and conducting my own research in the last twenty minutes has already shown me that what they've said isn't entirely accurate. But, y'know, if you interpret those traits and movements as femme or indicative of femininity, great, that's a cool read others seem to agree with! I just don't think it's fair to say that things like putting your hand on your chest or crossing your legs can only be indicative of femininity, and it certainly isn't fair to say that by not seeing them as feminine, people are seeing him as a 'brute'.
Louis basing his mannerisms off Eartha Kitt, Grace Jones and David Bowie though (who's absolutely not gender non-conforming, anon, by the way, he adopted a persona as a marketing tool and it worked. You can read about that here) is amazing, and a fact that I love, but my interpretation of that is that all three performers have ways of moving and otherworldly qualities to them that make sense for an actor playing an immortal creature. I've also said this before, but men can and do derive inspiration from women creatively all the time, and I think there's a bit of a dangerous line to walk there to posit the argument that a man inspired by a female artist is, as a result, feminine.
Again though, none of this is a criticism of your reading, this is just me reflecting why I have a different one. I think Louis is an intelligent, sensitive queer man with a lot of different facets to him, and I love that we get to see all the ways Jacob, the show's writers and the artistic teams bring him to life.
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nadinediary · 1 year ago
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Corporate Fashion with 𝒩adine.
As of the beginning of 2023, I got promoted to coordinator at my job, making me a full-time corporate girlie. I wanted to share some fashion tips and advice for my other entry-level girls who are new to the corporate workplace. To begin, Looking at your workplace guidelines on work attire is important. My agency is lenient, not having restrictions on footwear or colours, so keep that in mind throughout the post. I’ll provide reference photos (the images aren’t mine).
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Beauty
Most corporate occupations have this silent rule that women have to wear makeup. Fortunately, that isn't the case at my place of work. I wear makeup to work because I want to. I like to keep my makeup simple and light.
I don't wear foundation, but I do use concealer for my hyperpigmentation. I apply it under my eyes, on the corners of my mouth and any acne scars. For my brows, I like to keep my natural brow shape, just lightly filling in and brushing them. For blush, I use cream on my cheeks and nose bridge.
I have dark skin, so most brown lip liners aren’t dark enough for me, so I use a combination of black and brown liners paired with a sheer pink gloss. I finish off my makeup, highlighting my nose and cheekbones. I've made it a part of my beauty routine to get my lashes done, and I usually go with a cat hybrid set.
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I used to have long, stiletto French nails, but lately, I've been learning the guitar, so I've kept my nails short with red gel polish.
As for hair I almost always have my hair in protective styles most notably cornrows, but when my hair is out of braids I have it in a low bun. I’ve recently bought a kinky straight wig that I’ve cut and customised similarly to the reference photo, and I’m so in love with it.
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Basics
From satin blouses to pencil skirts, the basics include all the trusty fashion essentials for the office. Sticking to neutral when working in a corporate workspace is always safe. If you love colours like me, I’d advise you to include coloured pieces such as turtlenecks, blouses or scarves to brighten your outfit.
As for inspiration, I think you can’t go wrong with a matching set. My favourite set is a white waistcoat paired with a long pencil skirt; I also have a similar waistcoat and pants set in grey. I wear slip-on loafers during warmer weather, and during cooler temperatures, I will wear boots and a turtleneck underneath the waistcoat or a trench coat.
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Dressing for the Weather
Regarding weather, for winter, you can switch out your summer blouses and linen shirts for high-neck tops, turtlenecks and knit sweater vests to layer. I'm Australian, so our winters can feel much colder. Therefore I usually wear tweed blazers and coats. I own three trench coats for work; one in black, one in beige and the other in white; I rotate between the three.
I suggest having neutral-coloured outerwear so you can reuse and style them with more pieces. I have a stereotypical girly style so I love tweed sets paired with stockings and a nice pair of boots or heels when the weather gets cold.
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As for Summer, I like to focus on the fabric of the pieces I own, prioritising breathable and lightweight textures such as; cotton, linen, silk or satin. Pairing my tops with loose-fitted, lightweight pants and silk skirts. You can throw on a blazer when it's feeling a bit cooler. It’s important to learn how to style your body type, I'm a pear shape, so I have wider hips with a smaller upper body and waist. I like showing my figure, so I usually wear fitted high-waisted trousers, shorts and skirts.
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Accessories & Essentials
I love my loafers; as previously mentioned, I wear slip-on loafers during warmer weather, but for those who have to wear heels for work, you can never go wrong with a sturdy pair of sling-back heels. I like shopping for my work shoes at Charles and Keith; they are affordable and good quality.
I've recently switched from a shoulder bag to a backpack for my back health; I previously used a Burberry shoulder bag, but I've since switched to an Ecosusi women's vintage backpack in black.
I’m a maximalist to the core although I like to keep my jewellery minimal for work, My staples are some thick gold hoops, my Casio gold watch and my gold cross necklace, which I pair with a few rings and bracelets, that’s all.
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Good luck to all my corporate baddies and nine-to-five girlies.
Sincerely,
𝒩adine.
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pure-ablution · 14 days ago
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I am having the worst hair breakage I think I've ever had this winter. I remember in a previous post, you mentioned that Ukrainian women often wrap their hair while outside to prevent damage during winter. I'd love something more stylish than just wearing beanies when I walk my dog on the beach. Can you recommend any knitting patterns, scarf tying tutorials, or any where I can find more stylish inspiration for wrapping my hair?
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You’re in luck, because headscarfs and balaclavas are in this season! TikTok is where I get my most fashionable inspiration, but I also love Pinterest for ideas for matching my scarf with my outfit, and old-fashioned scarf manuals are the best for learning new knots and styles (the old Hermès scarf cards can be found quite cheaply on eBay, and are very chic to have on your dressing table or mantlepiece!).
You can go high fashion with a knitted triangle scarf, vintage glam with a silk headscarf, or very Old Country with a floral woven scarf—but my favourite recommendation that works with all sorts of tastes and fashion senses is a handmade ‘wedding ring’ scarf, from Shetland or Orenburg. These finely-knitted scarves are so pretty and so warm, and I couldn’t be without mine. You can buy them online, or make your own according to patterns in numerous different books.
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pisboy · 1 year ago
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as a fellow alopecia haver would you mind if i asked a few questions about how you cope with it? like, do you wear hats or wigs or do clever hairstyles to hide it or do you just let it show? ive tried pills and scalp shots and nothing is reversing mine. im only 26 and i feel like this is the worst thing to ever happen to me and i dont know what to do about it. nobody even thinks balding women exist. nobody considers how it is to actually be one. im so scared no one will ever like me or find me cute again. i used to think i was so cute. this sucks so bad.
For me the back of my head around the nape and up to nearly the top of my scalp has never grown hair, not even when I was born. My father also has alopecia areata and he has a few golfball-to-coin sized patches he loses and regrows at a random basis. So I've had my entire life to contend with hair loss and family that was familiar with it, so I sympathize so incredibly hard to women who develop it later in life. It is probably mortifying.
So yeah, shots and pills and balms and oils and etc have never worked for me. I also lose hair at random basis around the rest of my scalp, mainly around the margins of my crown (losing my bangs) and the sides of the back where I already do not grow hair. I also lose half my left eyebrow on a regular basis. If you go far back enough in my #me tag I've posted what it looks like. I also preface some of my advice might not be helpful if you have afro-textured hair, but I will recommend someone who will be extremely helpful in that respect.
Also I hope you don't mind me doing a shotgun blast of advice but maybe my experience will help someone
Things that worked for me:
I've always been flipping my part as my hair cycles in a growth/loss state for my bangs. Low pony tails tend to hold better than high ones in what is essentially a clever combover. Uhhh and always keep a hair tie around in case there is wind lol I always get self conscious when there's a breeze.
This is kind of vague and probably shitty advice but I've noticed over the years I lose hair when I am stressed, so I've had to make the call (in addition to other factors) to quit jobs that really strain me and I've noticed improvement in hair growth. So depending on your circumstances I say make some effort to reduce your other stress factors while you go through figuring it out. This shit is literally traumatizing.
This thing here is basically a pepper shaker for keratin bits that can color-fill in patches of missing (or really tiny short baby) hair. I can only speak as a brunette but it works pretty damn good as some camouflage for your skin poking out where you can't cover it. Do note it kind of has an ashy texture so it's something to wash out at night like makeup. Scalp makeup lol.
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Hats are good. I wore trucker hats for most of my teen years, but I don't wear them much anymore, especially being out of the stress of school. However - a piece of advice from a mentor of mine, Jamie Elmore, is to call hats, bands, scarves, wigs, anything under an umbrella term "accessory." It's kind of corny but sometimes conceptualizing these things that way helps coping with the impulse of a world that demands you hide your hair loss and another where you can freely express yourself without fear of judgement. Anyway, I recommend looking her up, she has a magazine and works hard for the alopecia community, particularly for black alopecians.
Oh yeah if you can find those hippy chick silk hair bands that have the elastic around the back, I love those. Regular bandanas are also good.
Uhhh shorter hair also tends to weigh and pull less, which I think everyone has varying sensitivity to, but to anyone considering a bob, why not might help lol. I also lose my hair in the largest amounts in the shower, so like, if you develop a weird complex about showering I know allllllll about it.
I have tried partial wigs, which are custom cut out and adhered to your head, and it's nice if you want to do hairstyles you otherwise could not, but it's high maintenance, very itchy, and gets gummy after about a week.
But yeah it's been a very slow and steady process to get used to going out in public without putting effort in camouflaging my alopecia, and that mostly has to do with tuning people out. The existential stuff gets personal so I save those conversations for a 1-to-1. *Holds you by the shoulder* we are all coping out here.
I look at that sword of Damocles hanging over my head and if my scalp gets wiped out beyond all sidepart repair, I'll go full wig-wearing. I once had a hair stylist who was giddy at the idea of shaving my head when I explained it to her, which was comforting in a silly way.
Anyway, it's been years since I've dipped my toes into the greater Alopecia Community, the ones with all the acronyms, but there are NAAF chapter groups that you can meet and hopefully find people to connect with. I think you need to join an email group though. Anyway. For the longest time the only people I knew with it was just my dad and a cousin who had it for 1 year and never again and seeing a group of people with patchy/full baldness in person for the first time made me cry.
To end on a good note, there have been trials for JAK inhibitors (a treatment for many autoimmune disorders) having really breakthrough success rates at hair regrowth, but I haven't looked into it lately. Seems very promising. A lot better than cortisone shots in the scalp I figure, maybe worth the pain lmao
EDIT: i misremembered it being lupus medication, but it was actually Janus kinase inhibitor trials with success.
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noisycowboyglitter · 5 months ago
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"The Symbolism of the Bisexual Pride Flag Butterfly: A Celebration of Identity"
The Bisexual Pride Flag Butterfly is a powerful symbol that merges the representation of bisexual identity with the transformative imagery of a butterfly. This emblem combines the colors and
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Buy now:19.95$
meaning of the bisexual pride flag with the grace and symbolism of a butterfly, creating a visually striking and deeply significant icon.
The bisexual pride flag, designed by Michael Page in 1998, features three horizontal stripes: pink at the top, purple in the middle, and blue at the bottom. In the butterfly design, these colors are artfully incorporated into the wings, either as distinct bands or in a more blended, artistic interpretation. The pink represents attraction to the same gender, the blue signifies attraction to different genders, and the purple symbolizes attraction to multiple genders or across the gender spectrum.
Butterflies themselves are rich in symbolism, often representing transformation, freedom, and beauty. This resonates deeply with many in the LGBTQ+ community, particularly those who have experienced personal growth and self-acceptance in their journey of identity.
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The Bisexual Pride Flag Butterfly serves multiple purposes:
Visibility: It's a clear, proud declaration of bisexual identity.
Education: The design can spark conversations about bisexuality and its place within the LGBTQ+ spectrum.
Unity: It creates a sense of community among bisexual individuals.
Celebration: The butterfly's beauty and freedom reflect the joy of self-acceptance and pride.
This symbol can be found on various items such as pins, patches, stickers, clothing, and flags, allowing individuals to express their identity or show support as allies. It's a beautiful representation of bisexual pride, emphasizing the fluidity, diversity, and natural beauty of attraction and love.
Butterfly gifts for her offer a delightful blend of elegance, whimsy, and natural beauty, perfect for women who appreciate these enchanting creatures. These thoughtful presents come in various forms to suit different tastes and occasions:
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Jewelry: Delicate necklaces, earrings, or bracelets featuring butterfly motifs.
Accessories: Silk scarves, handbags, or hair clips adorned with butterfly patterns.
Home decor: Butterfly-themed wall art, throw pillows, or decorative figurines.
Garden items: Butterfly houses, feeders, or plants that attract butterflies.
Stationery: Notebooks, pens, or planners with beautiful butterfly designs.
Fashion: Clothing items like t-shirts or dresses with butterfly prints.
Beauty products: Butterfly-shaped soaps or cosmetic cases.
Books: Illustrated guides on butterflies or butterfly-inspired poetry collections.
Craft kits: Butterfly-themed painting or origami sets for creative expression.
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These gifts celebrate the grace and beauty of butterflies while offering practical or decorative value, making them ideal for birthdays, anniversaries, or as thoughtful gestures of appreciation.
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the-softest-love-is-ours · 1 year ago
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F/O Headcanons: Gwen Edition
(These might be added to at any time)
Her favorite color is Sage
She prefer rust colored wools for weaving
When alive, her hair was kinda wavy, she also had a habit of fiddling with a strand of it when antsy
She also had greyish-green eyes
Her alcohol of choice is a somewhat expensive whiskey
Despite a more aloof and unflappable attitude, she’s highly protective
She’s demiromantic bisexual, with a slight but not major preference for women
She has a slightly ridiculous love of silk scarves
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virginiablossoms · 1 year ago
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Minimalistic Color 53cm Silk Scarf Bandana | Square Scarf
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100% Natural Mulberry Silk One Sided High Quality Print Machine Hemmed
SIZE: 53x53cm / 20.8x20.8 inches 12 Momme
Luxurious Pattern. Detailed. Delicate. Fashionable. This mulberry silk square scarf is a perfect accent to any outfit.
It is neither too thin nor too thick, making it easy to style while still
keeping it soft and comfortable to wear. Can be worn as a chic neck scarf/tie, hair accessory, head tie band, handbag accessory, hat decoration, wrist band, waist band.
Care Instructions:
Wash gently by hand. Rinse with cold water. Hang to air-dry.
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ratsoh-writes · 6 months ago
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I have a feeling I need to make a proper profile for venom and hansel now lol
Venom Wingdings: (Grimmtale muffet).
Venom is a small Grimm spider monster with purple skin, black hair and eight large eyes all around her head in a ring. She’s got pale grey magic and is aged 92. She is part of the Wingdings coven and is the cousin twice removed of thistle and yarrow. She was their babysitter growing up and is still close friends with both skeletons
Venom is a flirtatious monster who uses pet names for every one and every thing. She’s almost in her 100s now and desperately wants to be soulbonded before she turns 100. She’s a big romantic and likes those who have the confidence to be true to themselves. The best way to get venom excited is to be all sappy in public. She LOVES matchmaking and has a bad habit of recommending couples potions to anyone she thinks are together lol
She runs the potion shop in newtsmead. It’s supplied by the Wingdings coven of course. She does brew some of the potions herself, but most of the time she is playing cashier or stocking the shelves
Things she loves: romance, her family, baking cakes, silk scarves, her little “brothers”, surface monsters, anime lol
Hansel Merlin:
Hansel is a dark grey bunny monster from Grimmtale with split ears sharp teeth and Ruby red magic. She’s aged 49 and is the childhood best friend of yarrow. She is from a neighboring coven, the Merlin coven.
Morticia had friends in other covens naturally, and when her best friend, the bunny mage, white, gave birth to Hansel on the same day Morticia had yarrow, the two decided their children were fated to be together. They worked hard to make sure the kids had plenty of play dates and interactions growing up. And to their dismay, yarrow and Hansel became 100% platonic best friends. The two still hang out often but haze zero romantic interest in each other.
Hansel is a little ball of anxiety. She has trouble talking to new people and can stress herself out so much she faints lol. Despite that she’s determined and always willing to push herself, if yarrow is there of course lol. She’s a very curious bunny and refuses to let her anxiety hold her back from chasing her dreams!
Things she loves: yarrow (like a brother), seafood, rock climbing, jump rope tricks, dancing and human women lol
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arizamzam · 7 months ago
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Simple and Elegant Hijab Styles for Young Women: A Comprehensive Gui
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Hijab, a symbol of modesty and faith, has become an integral part of many young women's wardrobes. However, styling a hijab in a way that is both simple and elegant can be a challenge. This comprehensive guide will provide you with all the tips and tricks you need to achieve a simple and elegant hijab style that will make you feel confident and beautiful.
**Choosing the Right Hijab**
The first step to achieving a simple and elegant hijab style is to choose the right hijab. Here are a few things to keep in mind:
* **Material:** Opt for hijabs made from comfortable and non-transparent materials, such as cotton, silk, or chiffon.
* **Size:** Choose a hijab that is the right size for your head and neck. It should not be too loose or too tight.
* **Color:** Select a hijab color that complements your skin tone and outfit. Neutral colors, such as black, white, and gray, are always a good choice.
* **Shape:** There are many different hijab shapes to choose from, such as square, rectangular, and triangular. Experiment with different shapes to find the one that best suits your face shape.
**Styling Your Hijab**
Once you have chosen the right hijab, it's time to style it. Here are a few simple and elegant hijab styles to try:
* **Classic Drape:** This is the most basic hijab style. Simply drape the hijab over your head and secure it under your chin with a pin.
* **Twisted Turban:** This style is slightly more elaborate than the classic drape. Twist the hijab in the middle and wrap it around your head, securing it with a pin at the back.
* **Side Drape:** This style is perfect for showing off a beautiful neckline. Drape the hijab over your head and bring one end to the side, securing it with a pin.
* **Bun Wrap:** This style is perfect for creating a chic and sophisticated look. Pull your hair into a bun and wrap the hijab around your head, securing it with pins at the back.
**Accessorizing Your Hijab**
Accessories can add a touch of personality to your hijab style. Here are a few tips for accessorizing your hijab:
* **Brooches:** Brooches are a great way to add a touch of sparkle or color to your hijab. Pin a brooch to the side of your hijab or under your chin.
* **Headbands:** Headbands can help to keep your hijab in place and add a touch of style. Choose a headband that complements the color and style of your hijab.
* **Scarves:** Scarves can be used to add a pop of color or pattern to your hijab. Wrap a scarf around your head over your hijab or use it to create a turban style.
**Tips for Maintaining a Simple and Elegant Hijab Style**
* **Keep your hijab clean and pressed.** A clean and pressed hijab will always look more elegant than a wrinkled one.
* **Avoid using too many accessories.** Too many accessories can make your hijab style look cluttered and messy.
* **Experiment with different hijab styles.** Don't be afraid to try different hijab styles until you find one that you love.
* **Be confident.** The most important thing is to be confident in your hijab style. When you feel good about yourself, it will show in your appearance.
**Conclusion**
By following the tips and tricks in this guide, you can achieve a simple and elegant hijab style that will make you feel confident and beautiful. Remember, the key is to find a style that suits your personality and lifestyle. With a little practice, you'll be able to create a hijab style that is both simple and elegant.
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maceshop01 · 7 months ago
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Embracing Modesty and Style Guide to Muslim Hijab Caps
For many Muslim women, wearing the hijab is a symbol of faith, modesty, and identity. Within the wide array of hijab styles and accessories, the Muslim hijab cap has gained significant popularity for its practicality and fashion appeal. Hijab caps, also known as under-scarves or bonnet caps, serve as essential accessories that enhance comfort, maintain hijab stability, and add a touch of personal style. In this comprehensive guide, we will explore the various types of hijab caps, their benefits, styling tips, and how to choose the perfect one for your needs.
Understanding the Role of Muslim Hijab Caps
Muslim hijab caps are worn underneath the hijab to secure the scarf in place, preventing it from slipping and ensuring that it stays neat throughout the day. These caps come in a variety of styles, materials, and designs, catering to different preferences and occasions. Here are some primary reasons why hijab caps are essential:
Grip and Stability: Hijab caps provide a firm grip on the hair, keeping the hijab securely in place. This is especially useful for women with silky or fine hair that tends to slip easily.
Comfort: Caps create a barrier between the hair and the hijab, reducing friction and preventing headaches caused by tight wrapping.
Hygiene: Wearing a cap helps absorb sweat and oil, keeping the hijab clean and fresh for longer periods.
Modesty: Caps provide additional coverage, ensuring that no hair is visible under sheer or lightweight hijabs.
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Types of Muslim Hijab Caps
There are several types of hijab caps, each designed to suit different needs and styles. Here are some popular options:
1. Tube Caps
Tube caps are long, tubular pieces of fabric that can be slipped over the head. They provide full coverage around the head and neck, making them ideal for securing the hijab in place.
Materials: Cotton, viscose, and jersey.
Benefits: Easy to wear, versatile, and comfortable for long hours.
2. Bonnet Caps
Bonnet caps resemble traditional bonnets with ties or elastic bands at the back. They are fitted and often cover the head completely, offering a secure base for the hijab.
Materials: Cotton, satin, and silk.
Benefits: Adjustable fit, excellent for silky hair, and prevent slippage.
3. Ninja Underscarves
Ninja underscarves are designed to cover the head, neck, and often the upper chest area. They are particularly popular for their seamless look and comprehensive coverage.
Materials: Spandex, lycra, and cotton blends.
Benefits: Full coverage, ideal for active wear, and provide a sleek, smooth look.
4. Headbands and Scrunchies
While not full caps, headbands and scrunchies are used to keep hair in place and add volume under the hijab. They are often paired with other types of hijab caps.
Materials: Elastic, cotton, and velvet.
Benefits: Add volume, prevent slippage, and are great for styling.
How to Choose the Perfect Hijab Cap
Selecting the right hijab cap involves considering various factors, including your hair type, the occasion, and personal preferences. Here are some tips to help you choose the perfect hijab cap:
1. Consider Your Hair Type
Different materials and styles work better for different hair types. For example:
Fine or Silky Hair: Opt for cotton or jersey caps with a snug fit to prevent slippage.
Thick or Curly Hair: Choose stretchy, breathable fabrics like spandex or lycra that accommodate more hair volume.
2. Think About the Occasion
The occasion can dictate the type of hijab cap you choose:
Everyday Wear: Comfortable, breathable materials like cotton or jersey are ideal.
Formal Events: Satin or silk bonnet caps provide a smooth, elegant base for more elaborate hijab styles.
Active Wear: Ninja underscarves made from moisture-wicking fabrics are perfect for sports and outdoor activities.
3. Match Your Style
Hijab caps come in various colors and designs, allowing you to match them with your hijabs and outfits. Consider neutral tones for versatility and bolder colors or patterns for a statement look.
4. Comfort and Fit
Ensure that the cap fits well without being too tight or too loose. Adjustable options like bonnet caps with ties or elastic bands can provide a customized fit.
Styling Tips for Muslim Hijab Caps
Incorporating hijab caps into your hijab style can be both functional and fashionable. Here are some styling tips to enhance your look:
1. Layering
Layering a tube cap with a ninja underscarf can provide extra grip and coverage, ensuring your hijab stays in place all day.
2. Volumizing Scrunchies
For a voluminous hijab style, use a volumizing scrunchie or headband underneath your cap. This adds dimension and enhances the overall look.
3. Accessorize
Add pins, brooches, or decorative clips to your hijab cap for a personalized touch. This is especially great for special occasions.
4. Mix and Match
Experiment with different combinations of hijab caps and scarves. Mixing textures and colors can create unique and stylish looks.
Caring for Your Hijab Caps
Proper care can extend the life of your hijab caps and keep them looking fresh. Here are some care tips:
1. Hand Wash
Hand washing is the gentlest method for most hijab caps, especially those made from delicate materials like silk or satin. Use a mild detergent and cold water.
2. Machine Wash
For more durable fabrics like cotton or jersey, you can use a machine wash on a gentle cycle. Place the caps in a mesh laundry bag to prevent damage.
3. Air Dry
Avoid using a dryer, as high heat can damage the fabric and elasticity. Instead, lay the caps flat to air dry or hang them in a shaded area.
4. Store Properly
Store your hijab caps in a cool, dry place. Use drawer organizers or hang them to prevent wrinkles and maintain their shape.
Embracing Modesty and Fashion with Hijab Caps
Muslim hijab caps are more than just functional accessories; they are an essential part of a modest wardrobe that combines practicality with style. Whether you’re looking for everyday comfort, sports functionality, or elegant touches for special occasions, hijab caps offer versatile solutions to meet your needs. By understanding the different types of hijab caps, knowing how to choose the right one, and incorporating styling tips, you can enhance your hijab-wearing experience and express your unique style with confidence. Embrace the beauty and convenience of hijab caps and elevate your hijab game to new heights.
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xovalaxo · 2 years ago
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Queen, hippies, the smell of hot cigarettes, big hair. When walking down the streets on LA you might see men wearing smaller shirts, women wearing big bell bottom pants, as if they dressed for music and living life of youth. Today I will teach you how to dress in the 70s. Patterns, layers, platform shoes, vests, long collared shirts, tight tees, turtleneck sweaters colors were everything, reds, yellow, earth colors, rust, avocado green. But most of all, THE PANTS in photo A you see different versions of bell bottom jeans like the one you’ll imagine wearing to a disco party almost, any flared, bootcut, bell bottoms will work for your outfit bonus point for any color or pattern, but you cannot wear any type of 70’s clothing without a big belt on you, people wore beaded belts, leather belts, velvet belts. etc anything that you could wrap around you should be good. In the mid 70’s style was all about Rock not the type of rock we know now but Glam Rock, people idolized artists like David Bowie and Freddie Mercury. The look included several key styles, such as velvet sports coats, shawl-collar tuxedo jackets, frilly and satin shirts, black or tan leather jackets, silk scarves and ascots, oversized collars, and platform shoes. Well that’s all it for me, hopefully I helped you dress 70’s and if not hopefully I thought you some fashion history feel free to show me your 70’s fit.
-Talk to you soon Big Apple🍎🌃
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