#simonetta vespucci

[die-rosastrasse]

Piero di Cosimo

Italian, 1462-1522

Portrait of Simonetta Vespucci, 1490 (detail)

[bradleyjsource]

MEDICI: MASTERS OF FLORENCE (2016–2019) 2.02 Standing Alone

[archeryicons]

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[aschenblumen]

Sandro Botticelli, Ritratto di giovane donna (Simonetta Vespucci). Temple sobre tabla, 82 cm × 54 cm, c. 1480.

[grumble-all-you-like]

Favorite non-royal woman: Simonetta Vespucci

I've always thought she was an interesting figure within history simply because we know next to nothing about her other than she was beautiful, yet her name is attached to dozens of famous paintings despite the fact that it's unlikely she was used as a model for any of them.

[perioddramapolls]

Period dramas dresses tournament: Orange dresses Round 2- Group C: Giulia Farnese, The Borgias (gifset) vs Simonetta Vespucci, Medici: the magnificent (gifset)

[yt-glrs]

[zarya-zaryanitsa]

The lesser known Venus of Sandro Botticelli

[arizuume]

A study of one of Botticelli’s paintings 🤔🤔🤔

[roselynvictoria]

Simonetta Vespucci by Piero di Cosimo

[love-for-tv]

[classic-art-favourites]

Simonetta Vespucci by Sandro Botticelli, 1475-1480.

[higherentity]

[perioddramapolls]

Period dramas dresses tournament: Orange dresses Round 1- Group C: Isabel de Castilla, El ministerio del tiempo (gifset) vs Simonetta Vespucci, Medici: the magnificent (gifset)

Propaganda for Isabel's dress:

Another pic 🧡🧡🧡

[reginarubie]

I know we are all here for HotD/GoT but I encourage ppl to go read G's newest I Medici fic. My friends, even if you give it a try knowing nothing about the fandom, it's gonna be a gem. And if you actually end up watching the series, it's gonna be THE experience.

Now, when I'm done promoting, let me tell you, it must be the first Giuliano/Simonetta fic I LOVED, the first one ever in my reading history where the author gets them — although I haven't read much in English for this ship. Because writers, unfortunately, often make the same mistake their surrounding made on the show — they cannot see behind the beauty. The were absolute loners despite getting attention from everyone (like, everyone was swooning at the sight of them both but knew nothing about them — neither Marco, nor I suppose any woman Giuliano has ever been with) and when they met, they just SAW each other. And that you captured perfectly. I'm absolutely sure this fic will give me what I want, for it's already deep enough. Once again I'm in awe of Simonetta's inner strength. It's time to let yourself go, queen! Marco's a jerk who, instead of trying to steal his wife's heart from Giuliano, breaks it even harder. Another proof he's not worthy. And he basically? Spoiled the conspiracy to her? I hope I got it right and there's still a lot of time before Easter. Priora suddenly seems to be nice. Ladies, unite for the greater good ✊

Ciao Anne!, first of all happy holidays!

Funny you would comment on that (and thank you for the advertising) as I’ve just updated the fic with a new short chapter!

I’m as always humbled by how much you hype me up!, especially since I always feel so little confident about it as well, especially this story! So thank you so much!

It is true that Giuliano and Simonetta actually saw each other, they always felt seen by the other, and I’ve rarely seen Simonetta being so herself as when she was shown with Giuliano, also I wanted to bring to life that woman who refused to reject her own love to make a man feel confident, the same woman who stood her ground despite being ill and accused, and faced the consequences and death (in the show) without remorse remaining true to herself. And I am happy you enjoyed it, and again I wanna thank you because this story would not have seen the light of the day without your encouragement and prompting as I was (and still am) pretty self-conscious about it!

Priora and Simonetta united to make sure the de’ Medici survive this plight. Also yeah, she is an OC but I figured that since they gave the Cavalcanti brothers such an important role in the show I could add another Cavalcanti to aid the plot 😉

As always thank you for your support, Anne! I cannot explain how much it means to me!

Sending all my love ~G.

Ps. for anyone interested this is the fic and you can find it here!

She didn’t care if she looked out of place, if she didn’t fit into the perfect, reasonable and elegant courtier she was raised to be, a noble and elegant Madonna of the nobility. […] She stepped into the courtyard uncaring the cold winds flapping in her face and the mud gathering at her feet. — from the first chapter.

The title is actually inspired by the verses written by Poliziano about the tourney Giuliano won to crown Simonetta as his (platonic) love in Florence! (He impersonated Iulio, a young warrior who had to prove his worth through several quests to gain the love of the nymph — Simonetta — with whom he had fallen in love).

So anyway, thank you again Anne! Sending all my love ~G.

[amplifyme]

From Simonetta by Nan Dibble:

On a hunch, she wandered out to see if the spook had started his goddam picture yet. And banged into the church rail, that hadn't been there yesterday. And then, once she was past that, stubbed her toe on what she made out, after a second, as a large, thick book, lying open on the living room rug. Three or four other books were spaced out in front of the couch. One had a sheet of paper on top. Not quite bright enough to read; but enough to recognize the handwriting as Vincent's.

She took the note back into the kitchen and left it on the island she didn't quite bump into, while putting together the makings of a pot of coffee. Then, wincing in anticipation, she flicked on the overhead fluorescent and waited with shut eyes for the light to become tolerable. Like a hangover, she thought, with no fun, even, to look back on. It didn't seem fair.

Leaning on the island, she read the note.

Once I read several books whose subject was unwelcome to me because you felt it important enough to insist. And despite my distaste, I learned much and gained insight. Now I ask the same of you. Consider, with all your formidable objectivity, the pages I have flagged. Can you say, in simple honesty, that you see no resemblance? And then ask yourself whether all these great artists can have been so mistaken, so blind, and all the generations since them, to choose such models to exercise their genius upon. If my insistence is unwelcome and an intrusion upon private matters, my excuse is that it hurts me to know you have been persuaded of such a cruel delusion about yourself. Not merely because I love you, although I do, but in honor of the truth, I wish you to find yourself as beautiful as you deserve and as you are. We shall talk of this.

—V.

“Dammit,” Diana muttered, wearily slumping, dropping her fragile forehead onto her arms. Then she mouthed soundlessly, We shall talk of this, and made a snarling, defiant face.

But fair was fair: he had read the damn Abnormal Psych books (and blown up at her afterward), so she guessed she had to do the assignment, with the option of throwing them at him when she was done. She lugged the thick books by twos out to the island and studied them standing, drinking coffee, trying to be objective, as he'd asked.

All the books had PROPERTY OF THE NEW YORK PUBLIC LIBRARY stamped in them, and little manila sleeves and cards that showed they hadn't been checked out anything like legally. Turning pages, dutifully going from flag to flag, she wondered if she should turn him in for that, or warn the big, lion guarded book mausoleum on 5th Avenue that they had something a lot larger than mice coming and going in their basement...

The paintings in the first book were centuries old: Michelangelo, a seated and rather muscular sibyl from the Sistine Chapel ceiling, shoulders on her like a fullback; a painting called “The Madonna of the Rocks”; Botticelli, “The Birth of Venus,” in which a woman coyly clutching the crucial areas was being served up, standing, on the half shell; another with two people, a man and a woman, sprawled rather dissolutely across a broad rectangle, attended by fat flying babies.

The flag on that one had a note on it:

Her name was Simonetta Vespucci, and she was one of Botticelli's favorite models; Kristopher contends Botticelli also was in love with her, although she loved another. Historical sources are too scanty to prove or disprove this. Kristopher, however, is in no doubt. He is not inclined to doubt at any time. It is your resemblance to Simonetta which chiefly has made him determined to attempt your likeness. As you have already found, he is not easily discouraged. Nor is he in the habit of becoming fascinated by giraffes, metal mouths, clowns, or anything more bizarre than myself, concerning which I leave you free to draw your own conclusions.