FY! Modern flapper

catsandgraffitis:

stickers around

cat lady + fear this queer

mtl needed this

Carole Lombard

treadmill-to-oblivion:

Black bobbed beauty by Corona.

(vía fuckyeahblackbobs)

oldtimecinemastars:

Mary Louise Brooks (November 14, 1906 – August 8, 1985), generally known by her stage name Louise Brooks, was an dancer and actress, noted for popularizing the bobbed haircut.

Brooks is best known as the lead in three feature films made in Europe, including two G. W. Pabst films:Pandora’s Box (1929), Diary of a Lost Girl (1929), and Prix de Beauté (Miss Europe, 1930). She starred in seventeen silent films and eight sound films before retiring in 1935. Brooks published her memoir, Lulu in Hollywood, in 1982, three years later she died of a heart attack at the age of 78.

Color By Stacey@oldtimecinemastars

Amazing color work.

(vía oldtimecinemastars-deactivated2)

Illustration by Peter de Greef.

A rare early image of Louise Brooks (1925), from Louise Brooks Society.

Clara bow & ukelele.

Devil radiator cap, 1938.

Ginger and Barbara.

Shoes!

Helena Bonham Carter (Vogue July 2013)

Coty lipstick colour guide

downlo:

“Portrait of Luisa Casati” by Augustus John (left).

Casati was an eccentric (that’s the term for ‘nutty drama queen’ if you’re talking about a rich person) heiress and muse to many artists and writers.

Marchesa Casati
Is a living doll
Pinned on my Frisco
Skid row wall

Her eyes are vast
Her skin is shiny
And wild red hair
Shoulders sweet & tiny

Love her
Love her
Sings the sea
Bluely
Moaning
In the Augustus John
de John
back ground

—Jack Kerouac, “San Francisco Blues”, 1954

Her carrot-coloured hair hung in long curls. The enormous agate-black eyes seemed to be eating her thin face. Again she was a vision, a mad vision, surrounded as usual by her black and white greyhounds and a host of charming and utterly useless ornaments. But curiously enough she did not look unnatural. The fantastic garb really suited her. She was so different from other women that ordinary clothes were impossible for her. — Catherine Barjansky, sculptor

I have no doubt that the Marchesa was a fascinating woman, but I have a suspicion that (like all dramatic people) she was probably a bit unbearable in real life.

worrisomethings:

They were smart and sophisticated, with an air of independence about them, and so casual about their looks and clothes and manners as to be almost slapdash. I don’t know if I realized as soon as I began seeing them that they represented the wave of the future, but I do know I was drawn to them. I shared their restlessness, understood their determination to free themselves of the Victorian shackles of the pre-World War I era and find out for themselves what life was all about. - Colleen Moore

(vía thee-beees-kneees)