Friday, January 7, 2011

Flowers in Your Hair, part 1

Have you ever worn a flower in your hair? Maybe even a floral wreath? How did it make you feel?

There's nothing like the femininity of floral adornment. I hope the following story quotes and photo illustrations encourage or remind you to wear a flower in your hair now and then, to celebrate the gift of being feminine!
From "Rilla of Ingleside" by Lucy Maud Montgomery
Rilla was leaning out of her room window, dressed for the dance. A yellow pansy slipped from her hair and fell out over the sill like a falling star of gold. She caught at it vainly-­but there were enough left. Miss Oliver had woven a wreath of them for her pet's hair.

Rilla whirled into the shadowy kitchen at Ingleside, where Susan was prosaically darning socks, and lighted it up with her beauty. She wore her green dress with its little pink daisy garlands, her silk stockings and silver slippers. She had golden pansies in her hair and at her creamy throat. She was so pretty and young and glowing that even Cousin Sophia Crawford was compelled to admire her­-and Cousin Sophia Crawford admired few transient earthly things.
From "The Blue Castle" by L. M. Montgomery
Valancy had never had a pink dress or worn flowers in her hair.
Thanks to Lauren East for this image.
    Valancy had heard so much about him [the portrait painter] that she couldn't help turning her head back over her shoulder for another shy, curious look at him. A shaft of pale spring sunlight fell through a great pine athwart her bare black head and her slanted eyes. She wore a pale green sweater and had bound a fillet of linnaea vine about her hair. The feathery fountain of trailing spruce overflowed her arms and fell around her. Allan Tierney's eyes lighted up.
    "I've had a caller," said Barney the next afternoon, when Valancy had returned from another flower quest.
    "Who?" Valancy was surprised but indifferent. She began filling a basket with arbutus.
    "Allan Tierney. He wants to paint you, Moonlight."
    "Me!" Valancy dropped her basket and her arbutus. "You're laughing at me, Barney."

From "Kilmeny of the Orchard" by L. M. Montgomery
She had woven herself a chaplet of half-open white rosebuds and placed it on her dark hair, where the delicate blossoms seemed less wonderful than her face.

She had crossed her long braids at the back and pinned them about her head like a coronet; a late white rose was fastened low down on the left side.

She wore a dress of her favourite blue, simply and quaintly made, as all her gowns were. Her glossy black hair was wound about her head in a braided coronet, against which a spray of wild asters shone like pale purple stars. Her face was flushed delicately with excitement. She looked like a young princess, crowned with a ruddy splash of sunlight that fell through the old trees.
From "Roses for Mama" by Janette Oke
Nervousness brought a flush to Angela's cheeks. She had never been in a wedding party before. She stepped to the back of the church and waited for the cue from Mrs. Merrifield; then she began the slow procession toward the altar. On her arm were white camellias and blue forget-me-nots. A spray of baby's breath [gypsophila] was tucked in her loosely coiled hair.
Thanks to Kristin Reyland Wilson for this image from her wedding day.
From "Little Women" by Louisa May Alcott
Feeling almost happy again, she [Meg] laid by a few ferns and roses for herself, and quickly made up the rest in dainty bouquets for the breasts, hair, or skirts of her friends, offering them so prettily that Clara, the elder sister, told her she was 'the sweetest little thing she ever saw', and they looked quite charmed with her small attention. Somehow the kind act finished her despondency, and when all the rest went to show themselves to Mrs. Moffat, she saw a happy, bright-eyed face in the mirror, as she laid her ferns against her rippling hair and fastened the roses in the dress that didn't strike her as so very shabby now.

    So she made her wedding gown herself, sewing into it the tender hopes and innocent romances of a girlish heart. Her sisters braided up her pretty hair, and the only ornaments she wore were the lilies of the valley, which 'her John' liked best of all the flowers that grew.
    "You do look just like our own dear Meg, only so very sweet and lovely that I should hug you if it wouldn't crumple your dress," cried Amy, surveying her with delight when all was done.
All three wore suits of thin silver gray (their best gowns for the summer), with blush roses in hair and bosom, and all three looked just what they were, fresh-faced, happy-hearted girls, pausing a moment in their busy lives to read with wistful eyes the sweetest chapter in the romance of womanhood.

Amy stood like a graceful statue, with a most becoming ray of sunshine touching her white forehead and the flower in her hair.

No comments:

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...