Masquerade

Some parties rock, but some parties rococo. 

I believe some of you might remember my old dream to take part in a masquerade, and now I finally have! These photos (mine and others' alike, please don't steal them) tell a story of a sunny Saturday and the night that followed. A pastel-hued dimension that took its place a little over a week ago.

Sweet and beautiful Ida was our birthday lady, our queen (or khaleesi) and the sole ruler of the night. ♥

Find the ghost from the pic ♥

Blogging mollies! From the left: Leena, me, Lady Satin and Sasetar

-"You fight like a dairy farmer!"
-"How appropriate. You fight like a cow."

"A SCANDAL!"

Chandeliers cast our shadows on the walls and excited chatter filled the rooms as people made their acquaintances. With bows and curtseys, naturally. I love parties with new faces, and it made it all even better to see how much people had put effort in their costumes! Gorgeous lords and ladies filled the damask-covered rooms. Besides the delicacies, the historical drama and the nearly civilized drinking, there was also some extra nice entertainment involved. 

A duel of swords and wits à la Monkey Island! Treasure hunting! Burlesque show by Lunar Madness! Oriental dance of sabers! Troubadour ballads! Rococo disco! Gossips and photo shoots! And above all, such scandals that only the mansion walls can whisper of them.

I made my dress at the eleventh hour, completely from second hand ingredients. I found a ghastly 80's polyester creamy dream wedding gown with nearly legendary puff sleeves, and turned it into something that resembled a rococo dress. It was quickly made and it looked nice enough, but I was honestly surprised to hear such lovely compliments about my outfit! I even won the costume prize for Queen's Favourite, I felt so honoured! 

My noblewoman's title was Countess Morella Augusta Vladimira von Hexenvogel. 

After each glass of wine it became harder to remember that.

Thank you Laura for the pics! ♥

The day had a shakespearean charm to it, we walked and danced as if in the mists of some fae magic or a parallel universe, open for just one night. And in the strikes of the chilly morning hours the spell vanished, leaving lush memories and happy souls in its wake.

My sincere thanks and love to every lord and lady, the old friends and the new! ♥

Photo by Henry Söderlund photography. You can *click* it larger!

(photos 1, 4, 5, 6, 7, 13, 14, 15, 16, 18 & 26 weren't taken by me. 

They're from Ida's blog (Shadow Selves), Laura Koski, Maria Maunula and Henry Söderlund.)

Strewn with time's dead flowers, Bereft in deathly bloom

I slumbered the previous week in my childhood home, mostly just relaxing and cleaning the closets and the garage from dust and memories. It felt wonderful; leafing through old photographs, grinning at drawings and the sometimes frightening inner landscape of a 5-year old me, and walking down the memory lane with the most beloved toys.

Somewhere between all that I also made hairdos for me and my mother! She was thrilled to get the kind of beehive she's dreamed of, and in return it made me happy to see her smile. Clearly I didn't put all that much effort on mine as it started to sag in a few hours, but I still wanted to snap a few pics for you. I loved the decorations in this one, especially those black cherries.

So here's what I wore on a cloudy afternoon. The dress is mom's, hair accessories are all second hand and tights and necklace are from Back Street, in case someone wished to know. Nothing says summer like black lace, skeleton hands and faux roses, right? ;)

Dreaming in the garden and tending the flowers made me really sad about living in a high-rise. Envy is a waste of emotion and I do my best to avoid it at all times, but I can't help feeling a little green about gardens! I wish I'll have a garden of my own some day, with crooked cherry and apple trees, a pumpkin patch and a field of roses, and a secret hideout beneath the trees. Until then I can always dream and circle in the gardens of others.