The Age of Innocence



paintedshapes:

| Les parapluies de Cherbourg |

Atonement, 2007.

"You’re the star of Dan’s book."
"Well, as I said, it’s pure fiction

katharinehepburn:

The dress that Katharine Hepburn wears in The Glass Menagerie is actually the same one she wore for the 1939 stage version of The Philadelphia Story. Designed by Valentina, Tracy Lord’s wedding dress was an elaborate affair – pink silk organza, chiffon and crepe de chine, a fusion of modern and romantic elements – and personified a contemporary Southern socialite. Hepburn saved the dress in her personal collection, and bought it out of retirement in 1973, adding a corsage and a neckpiece. Because the actress had retained her slim figure, the waist only had to be let out slightly.

Titanic producer Jon Landau showed DiCaprio Titanic 3D footage late last year and, by all accounts, the actor was knocked out, all over again, by his leading lady. ‘He watched the scene where Kate arrives at the dock and steps out the car and he said to me: “She’s so beautiful.” ’

ragsmartinjones:

As she lay in her perfumed bath, her waiting women would already be reading to her the petitions and begging letters which came with every post. Back in her room, wearing one of her exquisite morning gowns tied with ribbons and bordered with the finest Brussels lace, her small bare feet thrust into satin slippers, she would drink the hot chocolate brought to her by Zamor, the little Indian servant given her by the King. [Later], she would arrive at the King’s intimate supper parties impersonating Flora, the goddess of flowers, with garlands of myrtle round her waist and roses in her hair, her golden curls falling about her shoulders in charming disarray. - Madame du Barry: The Wages of Beauty

Elie Saab Haute Couture Fall/Winter 2013

❝ all those nights with the phone warming the side of my face like the sun. you made jokes and sure, i may have even laughed a little but mostly you were not funny. mostly you were beautiful. mostly you were unremarkable, even your mediocrity was unremarkable. when friends would ask ‘what do you like about him?” i would think of you holding a bouquet against the denim of your shirt. i mean, you had my face as your screensaver for gods sake, do you know what that does for the self-esteem of girl with an apparition for a father?

hey, do you remember the quiet between us in all those restaurants? all the other couples engrossed in deep conversation and us, as quiet as a closed mouth.

that one afternoon when i asked ‘why do you love me?’ and you replied as quick as a toin coss ‘because you’re mad, because you’re crazy’ and i said ‘why else?’ and you said ‘that mouth, i love that mouth’ and i collapsed into myself like a sheet right out of the dryer.


last week, i walked through the part of the city i loved when i still loved you, our old haunts. you know, even the ghosts have moved on.

That’s all. This is, as they say, the darkest timeline. Everywhere else, nay, “everywhen” else — us in the Civil War, us in Ancient Egypt, us in the swinging ’60s — we are happy.

If this theory holds, well, by the law of averages, there had to be one universe — just this one — where we don’t end up together. Here and now just happens to be it. If you think of it this way, nothing is our fault.

Because you could have loved me forever. And maybe in another universe, I let you. (x)