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Adventures in Peaceful Parenting

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poppet-prince:

gallifrey-feels:

alliartist:

rifa:

prokopetz:

nebcondist1:

prokopetz:

I’ve seen this image going around, and I feel compelled to point out that it’s only half-right. It’s true that high heels were originally a masculine fashion, but they weren’t originally worn by butchers - nor for any other utilitarian purpose, for that matter.
High heels were worn by men for exactly the same reason they’re worn by women today: to display one’s legs to best effect. Until quite recently, shapely, well-toned calves and thighs were regarded as an absolute prerequisite for male attractiveness. That’s why you see so many paintings of famous men framed to show off their legs - like this one of George Washington displaying his fantastic calves:

… or this one of Louis XIV of France rocking a fabulous pair of red platform heels (check out those thighs!):

… or even this one of Charles I of England showing off his high-heeled riding boots - note, again, the visual emphasis on his well-formed calves:

In summary: were high heels originally worn by men? Yes. Were they worn to keep blood off their feet? No at all - they were worn for the same reason they’re worn today: to look fabulous.

so then how did they become a solo feminine item of attire?

A variety of reasons. In France, for example, high heels fell out out of favour in the court of Napoleon due to their association with aristocratic decadence, while in England, the more conservative fashions of the Victorian era regarded it as indecent for a man to openly display his calves.
But then, fashions come and go. The real question is why heels never came back into fashion for men - and that can be laid squarely at the feet of institutionalised homophobia. Essentially, heels for men were never revived because, by the early 20th Century, sexually provocative attire for men had come to be associated with homosexuality; the resulting moral panic ushered in an era of drab, blocky, fully concealing menswear in which a well-turned calf simply had no place - a setback from which men’s fashion has yet to fully recover.

FASHION HISTORY IS HUMAN HISTORY OK

Thank you, history side of tumblr. That “stay out of blood” thing has been driving me mad.

Wait. So, you’re telling me that the reason straight boys dress horribly is because they’re not over a 100 year old gay panic?
You’re telling me that the gross, baggy, shapeless menswear that has been almost singlehandedly ruining my life is the result of a bunch of dudes in the 1900’s collectively going ‘AAAAH WHAT IF THEY THINK WE’RE GAY’
Fuck that shit. BRING BACK MENS HEELS
BRING BACK MENS TIGHTS
MAKE MEN SEXY AGAIN

That last comment speaks to me so deeply that it puts the ocean to shame v.v Seriously straight boys, get your shit together. I could go on a rant about the hideous so called “style” that is men’s clothing. ugh.

poppet-prince:

gallifrey-feels:

alliartist:

rifa:

prokopetz:

nebcondist1:

prokopetz:

I’ve seen this image going around, and I feel compelled to point out that it’s only half-right. It’s true that high heels were originally a masculine fashion, but they weren’t originally worn by butchers - nor for any other utilitarian purpose, for that matter.

High heels were worn by men for exactly the same reason they’re worn by women today: to display one’s legs to best effect. Until quite recently, shapely, well-toned calves and thighs were regarded as an absolute prerequisite for male attractiveness. That’s why you see so many paintings of famous men framed to show off their legs - like this one of George Washington displaying his fantastic calves:

… or this one of Louis XIV of France rocking a fabulous pair of red platform heels (check out those thighs!):

… or even this one of Charles I of England showing off his high-heeled riding boots - note, again, the visual emphasis on his well-formed calves:

In summary: were high heels originally worn by men? Yes. Were they worn to keep blood off their feet? No at all - they were worn for the same reason they’re worn today: to look fabulous.

so then how did they become a solo feminine item of attire?

A variety of reasons. In France, for example, high heels fell out out of favour in the court of Napoleon due to their association with aristocratic decadence, while in England, the more conservative fashions of the Victorian era regarded it as indecent for a man to openly display his calves.

But then, fashions come and go. The real question is why heels never came back into fashion for men - and that can be laid squarely at the feet of institutionalised homophobia. Essentially, heels for men were never revived because, by the early 20th Century, sexually provocative attire for men had come to be associated with homosexuality; the resulting moral panic ushered in an era of drab, blocky, fully concealing menswear in which a well-turned calf simply had no place - a setback from which men’s fashion has yet to fully recover.

FASHION HISTORY IS HUMAN HISTORY OK

Thank you, history side of tumblr. That “stay out of blood” thing has been driving me mad.

Wait. So, you’re telling me that the reason straight boys dress horribly is because they’re not over a 100 year old gay panic?

You’re telling me that the gross, baggy, shapeless menswear that has been almost singlehandedly ruining my life is the result of a bunch of dudes in the 1900’s collectively going ‘AAAAH WHAT IF THEY THINK WE’RE GAY’

Fuck that shit. BRING BACK MENS HEELS

BRING BACK MENS TIGHTS

MAKE MEN SEXY AGAIN

That last comment speaks to me so deeply that it puts the ocean to shame v.v Seriously straight boys, get your shit together. I could go on a rant about the hideous so called “style” that is men’s clothing. ugh.

hellaoptile:

you know how when you go to a concert or show of some sort and the person on stage is like “HOW’S EVERYONE DOING TONIGHT?!?!?!?!” and the audience cheers back? why? you’re not answering the question, you’re just yelling. imagine if we did that in daily conversation. “hey jeff, how are ya?” and jeff just starts screaming and clapping in your face

if you consider a woman
less pure after you’ve touched her
maybe you should take a look at your hands

-

(via solacity)

I will never not reblog this

(via nuedvixx)

(Source: anachronica)

edibled20:

Got to love old cards

edibled20:

Got to love old cards

Follow Your Arrow
Kacey Musgraves

"So make lots of noise, kiss lots of boy or kiss lots of girls, if that’s what you’re into. When the straight and narrow gets a little too straight, roll up a joint, or don’t. Just follow your arrow wherever it points."

(Source: theperfectstyles)

strawberrynymph:

1. push yourself to get up before the rest of the world - start with 7am, then 6am, then 5:30am. go to the nearest hill with a big coat and a scarf and watch the sun rise.
2. push yourself to fall asleep earlier - start with 11pm, then 10pm, then 9pm. wake up in the morning feeling re-energized and comfortable.
3. reduce processed food from your diet. 
4. get into the habit of cooking yourself a beautiful breakfast. fry tomatoes and mushrooms in real butter and garlic, slice up a fresh avocado and squirt way too much lemon on it. sit and eat it and do nothing else.
5. stretch. start by reaching for the sky as hard as you can, then trying to touch your toes. roll your head. stretch your fingers. stretch everything. 
6. buy a 1L water bottle. start with pushing yourself to drink the whole thing in a day, then try drinking it twice.
7. buy a beautiful diary and a beautiful black pen. write down everything you do, including dinner dates, appointments, assignments, coffees, what you need to do that day. no detail is too small. 
8. strip your bed of your sheets and empty your underwear draw into the washing machine. put a massive scoop of scented fabric softener in there and wash. make your bed in full.
9. organize your room. fold all your clothes (and bag what you don’t want), clean your mirror, your laptop, vacuum the floor. light a beautiful candle.
10. have a luxurious shower with your favourite music playing. wash your hair, scrub your body, brush your teeth. lather your whole body in moisturiser, get familiar with the part between your toes, your inner thighs, the back of your neck.
11. push yourself to go for a walk. take your headphones, go to the beach and walk. smile at strangers walking the other way and be surprised how many smile back. bring your dog and observe the dog’s behavior. realize you can learn from your dog
12. message old friends with personal jokes. reminisce. suggest a catch up soon, even if you don’t follow through. push yourself to follow through
13. compliment yourself as well as others. you will learn to accept yourself more.
14. think long and hard about what interests you. crime? sex? boarding school? long-forgotten romance etiquette? find a book about it and read it. there is a book about literally everything. 
15. become the person you would ideally fall in love with. let cars merge into your lane when driving. pay double for parking tickets and leave a second one in the machine. stick your tongue out at babies. compliment people on their cute clothes. challenge yourself to not ridicule anyone for a whole day. then two. then a week. walk with a straight posture. look people in the eye. ask people about their story. talk to acquaintances so they become friends.
16. lie in the sunshine. daydream about the life you would lead if failure wasn’t a thing. open your eyes. take small steps to make it happen for you. 
credit :emma elsworthy

strawberrynymph:

1. push yourself to get up before the rest of the world - start with 7am, then 6am, then 5:30am. go to the nearest hill with a big coat and a scarf and watch the sun rise.

2. push yourself to fall asleep earlier - start with 11pm, then 10pm, then 9pm. wake up in the morning feeling re-energized and comfortable.

3. reduce processed food from your diet. 

4. get into the habit of cooking yourself a beautiful breakfast. fry tomatoes and mushrooms in real butter and garlic, slice up a fresh avocado and squirt way too much lemon on it. sit and eat it and do nothing else.

5. stretch. start by reaching for the sky as hard as you can, then trying to touch your toes. roll your head. stretch your fingers. stretch everything. 

6. buy a 1L water bottle. start with pushing yourself to drink the whole thing in a day, then try drinking it twice.

7. buy a beautiful diary and a beautiful black pen. write down everything you do, including dinner dates, appointments, assignments, coffees, what you need to do that day. no detail is too small. 

8. strip your bed of your sheets and empty your underwear draw into the washing machine. put a massive scoop of scented fabric softener in there and wash. make your bed in full.

9. organize your room. fold all your clothes (and bag what you don’t want), clean your mirror, your laptop, vacuum the floor. light a beautiful candle.

10. have a luxurious shower with your favourite music playing. wash your hair, scrub your body, brush your teeth. lather your whole body in moisturiser, get familiar with the part between your toes, your inner thighs, the back of your neck.

11. push yourself to go for a walk. take your headphones, go to the beach and walk. smile at strangers walking the other way and be surprised how many smile back. bring your dog and observe the dog’s behavior. realize you can learn from your dog

12. message old friends with personal jokes. reminisce. suggest a catch up soon, even if you don’t follow through. push yourself to follow through

13. compliment yourself as well as others. you will learn to accept yourself more.

14. think long and hard about what interests you. crime? sex? boarding school? long-forgotten romance etiquette? find a book about it and read it. there is a book about literally everything. 

15. become the person you would ideally fall in love with. let cars merge into your lane when driving. pay double for parking tickets and leave a second one in the machine. stick your tongue out at babies. compliment people on their cute clothes. challenge yourself to not ridicule anyone for a whole day. then two. then a week. walk with a straight posture. look people in the eye. ask people about their story. talk to acquaintances so they become friends.

16. lie in the sunshine. daydream about the life you would lead if failure wasn’t a thing. open your eyes. take small steps to make it happen for you. 

credit :emma elsworthy

(Source: soulflowur)

maternalgoddess:

~*~ Friendly reminder that women aren’t “stupid” for whatever their reasonings are for wanting an elective Cesarean as long as they’re given correct information on the surgery. Support ALL births, friends. ~*~

confessionsofdramaticabullymoms:

NICE GUY edibled20s PHOTOS REVEALED. NO WONDER naturalmomma IS MARRIED TO YOU. YOU HAVE GREAT LEGS.

I CAN CONFIRM THIS

confessionsofdramaticabullymoms:

NICE GUY edibled20s PHOTOS REVEALED. NO WONDER naturalmomma IS MARRIED TO YOU. YOU HAVE GREAT LEGS.

I CAN CONFIRM THIS

thepostmodernpottercompendium:

There are two wars.
Gittel is at Durmstrang when she hears. She’s in the corridor by the potion laboratories with Rozalija and Audra—the only other Lithuanian girls in her class—when her owl comes through the window and lands on her shoulder.
“Someone’s writing from home,” she tells them, unfolding the letter. “My brother, Elizer. He says—he says there are Germans in Šeduva, that they’re rounding up the Jewish families, forcing them to work—”
“Good,” Rozalija says. “My mother says the Jews are rotten. All they do is steal from us. It’s about time someone imposed some laws on them.”
“I am Jewish,” Gittel says, trying to keep her voice calm. “Or did you forget? When have I ever stolen from you?”
“Not you, specifically,” Audra says, a little embarrassed. “Your people.”
You must come home, Eliezer writes, you must use your magic to help us.
I have to stay at school, Gittel writes back.
There are two wars.
There are whispers in the corridors about Grindelwald and his followers torturing wix from non-magical families, and Gittel thinks of the look on her father’s face when an owl came to their window with a letter tied to its leg.
A boy grabs her arm as he walks past her, hisses in her ear. “Your blood is filthy.” Lets her go, pushes her against the wall.
She wonders how he knows. Maybe she is wearing her surprise on her sleeve, a star that lights up every time something magical turns her eye, every time something happens that she never knew was possible.
There’s a symbol scratched into the wall, a triangle with a circle inside it and a line through it. Gittel wonders why people need a picture for their cause.
There are two wars.
Another letter comes from Eliezer, his handwriting sprawled and urgent. Gittel has to squint to read it—she’s lost a little bit of her Yiddish with every year she spends away from home. He writes that in other towns, they’ve started herding the Jews out of the ghettos in trucks.
He does not know where they are taking them. He fears that Šeduva will be next.
Come home, Gittel.
Another boy grabs her arm in the corridor, but this one does not push her aside. He slips a piece of parchment in her pocket without a word. She doesn’t read it until she’s alone in her dormitory.
Δ ○ |Resist
“I cannot,” she tells herself. Her education is more important than fighting in a war.
There are two wars.
It’s a Friday morning when the school is called to assembly in the courtyard by the front gates. “What do you suppose is so important that we had to leave our hex class?” Rozalija asks.
The Headmaster conjures a platform and raises himself above the crowd. “A school ought not take sides in a war,” he says. “But we can no longer allow Muggle-born students to attend our school.”
They are told that they have a week to gather their belongings and make their way home. There is nothing more for them at Durmstrang.
“It was only a matter of time,” Audra says.
“Perhaps it will be better this way,” Rozalija says.
There are two wars.
The day before Gittel is due to leave Durmstrang and return home, one of the boys in the courtyard is reading a Muggle newspaper.
“Where did you get that?” Gittel asks him.
“I’m not telling you, mudblood,” he says.
She hides behind a tree as he reads it aloud to his friends.
“… and they have taken all the Jews in Šiauliai…”
Her home county. It seems too easy, too sudden, but now Gittel has no home to return to.
There are two wars.
“We’ll miss you!” Audra says. “Do you think we’ll see you again?”
“I don’t think so,” Gittel says. She doesn’t think they’ll miss her, either.
She takes a train away from Durmstrang with the other Muggle-born students. There are first years there, crying in fear, and older students holding their hands and telling them that everything will be alright.
The train pulls into its destination and the former students flood out, looking for their families. Gittel has not heard from Eliezer in weeks.
There are two wars, but both wars are fought over the false worship of one blood over another. Both wars are forcing Gittel from her home, and she wants to fight in both. But she finds the newspapers at the station, she reads the headlines, and she loses hope that she’ll ever see her family again. She still has magic, though. She still has her wand, and there’s one war that still needs fighters.
There are tears in her eyes, but there is still a piece of parchment in her pocket. Resist.
She sees the boy who gave it to her leaving the station and she runs after him.
“Wait!”
(submitted by memordes. This piece is a poignant and touching look at how these two wars - magical and muggle - could have intersected.)

thepostmodernpottercompendium:

There are two wars.

Gittel is at Durmstrang when she hears. She’s in the corridor by the potion laboratories with Rozalija and Audra—the only other Lithuanian girls in her class—when her owl comes through the window and lands on her shoulder.

“Someone’s writing from home,” she tells them, unfolding the letter. “My brother, Elizer. He says—he says there are Germans in Šeduva, that they’re rounding up the Jewish families, forcing them to work—”

“Good,” Rozalija says. “My mother says the Jews are rotten. All they do is steal from us. It’s about time someone imposed some laws on them.”

“I am Jewish,” Gittel says, trying to keep her voice calm. “Or did you forget? When have I ever stolen from you?”

“Not you, specifically,” Audra says, a little embarrassed. “Your people.”

You must come home, Eliezer writes, you must use your magic to help us.

I have to stay at school, Gittel writes back.

There are two wars.

There are whispers in the corridors about Grindelwald and his followers torturing wix from non-magical families, and Gittel thinks of the look on her father’s face when an owl came to their window with a letter tied to its leg.

A boy grabs her arm as he walks past her, hisses in her ear. “Your blood is filthy.” Lets her go, pushes her against the wall.

She wonders how he knows. Maybe she is wearing her surprise on her sleeve, a star that lights up every time something magical turns her eye, every time something happens that she never knew was possible.

There’s a symbol scratched into the wall, a triangle with a circle inside it and a line through it. Gittel wonders why people need a picture for their cause.

There are two wars.

Another letter comes from Eliezer, his handwriting sprawled and urgent. Gittel has to squint to read it—she’s lost a little bit of her Yiddish with every year she spends away from home. He writes that in other towns, they’ve started herding the Jews out of the ghettos in trucks.

He does not know where they are taking them. He fears that Šeduva will be next.

Come home, Gittel.

Another boy grabs her arm in the corridor, but this one does not push her aside. He slips a piece of parchment in her pocket without a word. She doesn’t read it until she’s alone in her dormitory.

Δ ○ |
Resist

“I cannot,” she tells herself. Her education is more important than fighting in a war.

There are two wars.

It’s a Friday morning when the school is called to assembly in the courtyard by the front gates. “What do you suppose is so important that we had to leave our hex class?” Rozalija asks.

The Headmaster conjures a platform and raises himself above the crowd. “A school ought not take sides in a war,” he says. “But we can no longer allow Muggle-born students to attend our school.”

They are told that they have a week to gather their belongings and make their way home. There is nothing more for them at Durmstrang.

“It was only a matter of time,” Audra says.

“Perhaps it will be better this way,” Rozalija says.

There are two wars.

The day before Gittel is due to leave Durmstrang and return home, one of the boys in the courtyard is reading a Muggle newspaper.

“Where did you get that?” Gittel asks him.

“I’m not telling you, mudblood,” he says.

She hides behind a tree as he reads it aloud to his friends.

“… and they have taken all the Jews in Šiauliai…”

Her home county. It seems too easy, too sudden, but now Gittel has no home to return to.

There are two wars.

“We’ll miss you!” Audra says. “Do you think we’ll see you again?”

“I don’t think so,” Gittel says. She doesn’t think they’ll miss her, either.

She takes a train away from Durmstrang with the other Muggle-born students. There are first years there, crying in fear, and older students holding their hands and telling them that everything will be alright.

The train pulls into its destination and the former students flood out, looking for their families. Gittel has not heard from Eliezer in weeks.

There are two wars, but both wars are fought over the false worship of one blood over another. Both wars are forcing Gittel from her home, and she wants to fight in both. But she finds the newspapers at the station, she reads the headlines, and she loses hope that she’ll ever see her family again. She still has magic, though. She still has her wand, and there’s one war that still needs fighters.

There are tears in her eyes, but there is still a piece of parchment in her pocket. Resist.

She sees the boy who gave it to her leaving the station and she runs after him.

“Wait!”

(submitted by memordes. This piece is a poignant and touching look at how these two wars - magical and muggle - could have intersected.)

mishasminions:

PRETTY SURE CROWLEY WILL GET THE MOST DATES