#sometimes I am an academic weapon but only when it doesn't count

[bowtiepastabitch]

Let's talk costuming: Avaunt!

So I think we can all agree that Aziraphale looks his most traditionally angelic in the Job minisode, no? In fact, all of the angels' costuming increases in drama for this particular episode. This is, obviously, a very deliberate choice on the part of wardrobe, so let's discuss.

On a technical level, the biggest thing that stands out to me about this fabulous robe is the draping. Oh, the draping. It feels like a classic angel 'fit because on a very fundamental level, it is. A lot of what we think of as angelic draws on Renaissance artists' depictions, with flowing robes, fluffy wings, and glimmering halos. In art from this era, there is a strong attention to detail on the natural flow of fabrics that makes Renaissance sculpture so breathtaking, such as here: (The Ecstasy of St. Teresa, Bernini, 17th century CE)

It's this ability to make solid marble look like fine silk rippling with movement that leaves such a strong impression in my mind when I look at these kinds of works.

In painting, too, there is a similar effect. Something about the material culture of the Renaissance really lent itself to this style, perhaps fueled by the rise in new textile luxuries that occurred in vaguely the same period. This is seen especially strongly for angels, such as in the sculpture above, and in this painting: (The Annunciation to the Virgin, Botticelli, 15th century CE)

There's a stark contrast between the dress of the two figures. The virgin Mary is no less ornamentally or expensively dressed, but her style is rather minimalistic next to the angel's voluminous robing. It paints a very clear impression of angelic dress, and the designers for Good Omens would have been aware, in at least a small way, of the art history precedence for such a thing.

The poof of the sleeves, the tucks down the front, the little belt with the train tucked in, the gathers, the weight of the fabric, everything about this robe is constructed to carefully recreate the rather fantastical imagery of renaissance art. It's not necessarily an easy texture to nail down, given that the artists themselves had no concerns of gravity, comfort, or the way it would look in actual 3d motion, while our brave costumers were dealing with all three as well as a budget, time constraints, and the constant consideration that white fabric just gets dirty so easy.

Here's some of the other angels as well, so you can see how theirs reflect those same dramatic themes.

And then, of course, when costuming a show you have a second question: What does this mean for our character? Or rather, we know how, but WHY did they make him look so traditionally angelic?

Well, thematically, the Job minisode centers around Aziraphale's struggle with being a good angel and Crowley's struggle with being a good demon. Aziraphale is learning how to be an angel that follows along with heaven as far as we can, and he's so terribly torn up about it. He spends a lot of his time fretting about doing what's expected demanded of him, even if perhaps he doesn't believe it to be the right choice. Natural, then, that he should look the part of the perfect angel whilst sorting out these ethereal woes.

Crowley even draws attention to it himself, giggling a bit at the suggestion that Aziraphale, with his fluffy hair and flowing angelic garb, could possibly become a demon. And it is a rather silly mental image; the garment itself would be comically silly in really ANY other context at all. In the same manner, his performance of angelic archetype borders on excessive:

He's trying so desperately hard here to be the angel he wants to and is supposed to be. He's dressed the part, he's using his big scary angel voice, but deep down he's clinging to an identity that doesn't quite fit.

(You'll notice in this shot the distinct difference between his and Crowley's dress on the level of silhouette as well as color. We see this a lot from the two of them, but with the points I made above it felt worth pointing out in this particular scene)

Here at the end, as he's coming to terms with the cracks in his heaven-given identity, his robe is largely in shadow, blurring out its startling whiteness. We do not see him dressed this way again. (He continues to wear white, obviously, but from here on out his style of dress mimics the human trends of the time rather than that classical angelic imagery)

[mapledyke]

Mommy issues vent

I fucking hate my mother and I hate how nobody understands what the fuck I'm talking about when I explain my situation. I say "she doesnt let me do anything" and I get "why, because she doesnt let you run around and do whatever you want? haha!" No you fucking cunt I mean growing up she barely even let me leave my room. Most of the time I couldn't go outside. Now I have anxiety attacks just trying to cross the street on the rare occasion I actually get to walk anywhere.

I wasn't even supposed to go in the kitchen, and I was never allowed to cook my own food. I wasn't allowed to clean or do my own laundry, but she'd sometimes expect me to of nowhere and gleefuly use it as an opportunity to make me feel useless and stupid. She'd grin and say things like "aw, poor (childhood nickname), she doesn't know how to do anything" and then step in and smugly do it herself. She only started letting me cook and clean two or three years ago, which has been a huge relief but still doesn't make up for the years and years of refusing to even teach me how to make pasta. Through all of high school I wanted to get a job and she wouldn't let me get one, I wanted to learn to drive and she wouldn't let me. I'm 20 now and I still don't have my license and I'm unemployed. My only experience is about a year's worth of work I did for a family member in high school.

I wasn't allowed to be a part of any clubs or try out any sports throughout all of school and I struggled academically because I was being abused by my father, so I don't qualify for any merit based scholarships if I ever want to try and go back to college. I desperately want to move out but I can't afford to because I don't have a job and I don't even know if I could take care of myself because I can't do fucking anything. She never let me develop those skills.

I wasn't allowed to date, I wasn't allowed to go see friends, I wasn't allowed to drive, I wasn't allowed to work, I wasn't allowed to go on walks, I wasn't allowed to do chores, the most basic tasks, and I feel like she's ruined my entire goddamned life because I can't fucking do anything!!!! I can't leave because I have no skills and my symptoms sometimes prevent me from even being able to function, so if things get bad - and I know they will - what am I supposed to do if I suddenly can't work? I'll be homeless.

So it's like I'm fucking stuck with her forever and it's my fault for being pathetic and stupid and undisciplined and bad at everything but it's her fault too for making me this way. I hate her. I can't even stand to hear her breathe. I've fantasized about killing her since I was in kindergarten. I get so angry I can't focus on anything or even sleep and I think about bashing her head in with a baseball bat. I think about ripping her flesh out with my teeth and tearing out her hair and mocking her while she screams. I think about chopping her up with an axe. I have no memory of ever expressing any anger to her directly because I've always been too scared, but sometimes I wonder if it's just made it harder to cope with in the long run.

When I was a little kid I started making plans to run away and live in the mountains. I'd keep track of the prices at the grocery store and hoard food and change and things I thought I could use as weapons because I wanted to be prepared. I considered killing her before I left but I could never decide. I hate her and want her to suffer. But I think I love her too because I feel guilty at the idea she could die unhappy one day after living such a shitty miserable life. I hate her and want her in pain but I also want her to eventually die happy and at peace. I wish there was a way to erase all of her memories of me so it'd be like I never existed.

But I can't talk about how I feel because she's not even abusive, sometimes she's actually fine. If she's in a good mood we can joke around and have a pleasant conversation. She never hit me unless you count spanking. But most of the time growing up she was just angry and high strung and cold and accusing and I was sure she hated me. But when I eventually realized she actually loved me it didn't help, because her love is smothering and scary and horrible. Every time she saw me or even heard me it was like she had some way to guilt trip me or accuse me of lying or hiding something.

My whole life has been nothing but her feelings and her trauma and her problems. I'm not even allowed to have my own trauma because my trauma is somehow still all about her and how it makes her feel. I've always been terrified enraged towards her but also I feel a lot of pity for her.

And people don't fucking get it, they think we need to "talk about it" or I just need to "stand up to her" or something as if my mother has ever been the type of person who can survive the weight of a single ounce of citicism. I get blamed for it because "she was just trying to protect you" "I'm sure she didn't know she was hurting you, no mother would do that on purpose". Everyone assumes I'm just lazy and don't want to learn these basic skills because they don't understand what it's like to have a parent who has never let you grow up.

Honestly even if I could take care of myself I probably couldn't just cut ties because I know she'd lose her fucking mind and I don't think I could stomach it. I don't want anything to do with her, and a huge part of me wants to hurt her but the other part of me doesn't want to make her life even worse than it already has been. A lot of the time I wish she'd just die in her sleep.

It makes me want to just kill myself because I don't have a future but I can't do that either. I don't know what to do, I've gone back to my old childhood fantasies about living in the woods. I know it really wouldn't but sometimes I think it's be easier.