I don’t agree with tumblr’s whole “you can’t enjoy this thing because it’s problematic” vibe, but watching Friends is weird now knowing that the actor who played Chandler led an invasion of Japan in 1863, which led to the forceful Westernisation of the isolated country.
1853.
I’m sorry, yes, the actor who played Chandler in Friends invaded Japan in 1853, not 1863.
I’m puzzled by your question, because I’ve never met a folklorist who was even polite about Joseph Campbell. Authors tend to be quite fond of him, and I’ve known branches of academia who seemed to respect him. But folklorists do not hold back. And I’ve never known a folklorist who regarded what Campbell did as being any real part of the field of folklore. And in his defence, Campbell never claimed to be a folklorist – he was literature prof who wrote about comparative mythology and religion.
This link may help on what many of the other folklorists think, and clarify more besides, although given how saddened and hurt you were by my rather gentle pointing out of Campbell’s weaknesses, you may have to brace yourself on this one. Although as a folklorist, you will have to find this all out eventually, probably the first time you mention Campbell to your fellow folklorists. So here you go:
My dear followers allow me to present to you the story of how the three musketeers came to be.
So one day Dumas was walking around and some guy( who I forget the name of) made fun of his cloak. Dumas then challenged him to a duel.
At the spot of the duel Duel dumas had a major wardrobe malfunction that resulted in his pants falling down. While his opponent was laughing at him. Dumas went and starved him.
If you’ve ever read the tripe TERFs write at length you will notice that they very often go off about how all the evils plaguing the true Female Homosexual community are derived from “Queer Theory” and usually when you read this you will be confused, since it usually entails accusations that trans women were somehow created or brought into acceptance by this so-called Queer Theory, yet usually you’ll find that there’s no causal link whatsoever provided between the niche (and often not very good) academic field of queer theory and, well, whatever trans activist evils TERFs are complaining about this day. Earlier today I even had the misfortune of seeing a TERF lament how Queer Theory has turned the LGB community into a trans cult and this will all be swept away when Gamers True Homosexuals Rise Up.
At this point I think it’s better to assume that the phrase “Queer Theory” in TERF lingo is an empty signifier meant to reference some manner of grand academic conspiracy to destroy our harmonious society by means of brainwashing the youth, without ever actually addressing what the core tenets of this theory even are. In essence Queer Theory in TERF lingo means exactly the same as “Cultural Marxism” does for fascists, or “Postmodern Neo-Marxism” does for Jordan Memerson… so I would once again like to extend my congratulations to Trans Exclusionary Radical Feminists for being indistinguishable in method from the alt-right.
In 1518, an artist would be commissioned to paint the duke’s daughters.
In 2018, they’re commissioned to draw his descendant’s fursona.
It was unintentional, but I accidentally made it seem like an immortal artist has been doing commissions for the same noble family for 500 years and I find that idea amusing.
it’s hilarious to me when people call historical fashions that men hated oppressive
like in BuzzFeed’s Women Wear Hoop Skirts For A Day While Being Exaggeratedly Bad At Doing Everything In Them video, one woman comments that she’s being “oppressed by the patriarchy.” if you’ve read anything Victorian man ever said about hoop skirts, you know that’s pretty much the exact opposite of the truth
thing is, hoop skirts evolved as liberating garment for women. before them, to achieve roughly conical skirt fullness, they had to wear many layers of petticoats (some stiffened with horsehair braid or other kinds of cord). the cage crinoline made their outfits instantly lighter and easier to move in
it also enabled skirts to get waaaaay bigger. and, as you see in the late 1860s, 1870s, and mid-late 1880s, to take on even less natural shapes. we jokingly call bustles fake butts, but trust me- nobody saw them that way. it was just skirts doing weird, exciting Skirt Things that women had tons of fun with
men, obviously, loathed the whole affair
(1864)
(1850s. gods, if only crinolines were huge enough to keep men from getting too close)
(no date given, but also, this is 100% impossible)
(also undated, but the ruffles make me think 1850s)
it was also something that women of all social classes- maids and society ladies, enslaved women and free women of color -all wore at one point or another. interesting bit of unexpected equalization there
and when bustles came in, guess what? men hated those, too
(1880s)
(probably also 1880s? the ladies are being compared to beetles and snails. in case that was unclear)
(1870s, I think? the bustle itself looks early 1870s but the tight fit of the actual gown looks later)
hoops and bustles weren’t tools of the patriarchy. they were items 1 and 2 on the 19th century’s “Fashion Trends Women Love That Men Hate” lists, with bonus built-in personal space enforcement
Gonna add something as someone who’s worn a lot of period stuff for theatre:
The reason you suck at doing things in a hoop skirt is because you’re not used to doing things in a hoop skirt.
The first time I got in a Colonial-aristocracy dress I felt like I couldn’t breathe. The construction didn’t actually allow me to raise my arms all the way over my head (yes, that’s period-accurate). We had one dresser to every two women, because the only things we could put on ourselves were our tights, shifts, and first crinoline. Someone else had to lace our corsets, slip on our extra crinolines, hold our arms to balance us while a second person actually put the dresses on us like we were dolls, and do up our shoes–which we could not put on ourselves because we needed to be able to balance when the dress went on. My entire costume was almost 40 pounds (I should mention here that many of the dresses were made entirely of upholstery fabric), and I actually did not have the biggest dress in the show.
We wore our costumes for two weeks of rehearsal, which is quite a lot in university theatre. The first night we were all in dress, most of the ladies went propless because we were holding up our skirts to try and get a feel for both balance and where our feet were in comparison to where it looked like they should be. I actually fell off the stage.
By opening night? We were square-dancing in the damn things. We had one scene where our leading man needed to whistle, but he didn’t know how and I was the only one in the cast loud enough to be heard whistling from under the stage, so I was also commando-crawling underneath him at full speed trying to match his stage position–while still in the dress. And petticoats. And corset. Someone took my shoes off for that scene so I could use my toes to propel myself and I laid on a sheet so I wouldn’t get the dress dirty, but that was it–I was going full Solid Snake in a space about 18″ high, wearing a dress that covered me from collarbones to floor and weighed as much as a five-year-old child. And it worked beautifully.
These women knew how to wear these clothes. It’s a lot less “restrictive” when it’s old hat.
I have worn hoop skirts a lot, especially in summer. I still wear hoop skirts if I’m going to be at an event where I will probably be under stage lights. (For example, Vampire Ball.)
I can ride public transportation while wearing them. I can take a taxi while wearing them. I can go on rides at Disneyland while wearing them. Because I’ve practiced wearing them and twisting the rigid-but-flexible skirt bones so I can sit on them and not buffet other people with my skirts.
My chosen area of research is not without its fair share of charms, but one of the more peculiar is that you can see a hymn tune called “Wyoming” and attributed to Mozart.
Mooncustafer 