Hello.
I am Cat.
Yes, the "meow" kind.
And please don't pull my tail.
Now that introductions are out of the way, let me tell you a bit about myoddself. In particular, my trans-temporal preoccupation with Victorian culture.
My goal in life is to become a 19th century gentleman, sans the Oxfordian pasttimes (lest they involve David Tennant). In accordance with such proclivities, I have a bevy of fancy waistcoats at my disposal.
All right, let me make this clear. I am not of the Sapphic sort, although I do adore poetry of the same name and can enjoy a light bout of shojo-ai from time to time. Despite my lingering affection for Emilie Autumn and her darling henchwomen, and the wishes of my more adventurous female friends, I remain ever-faithful to the tall, dark and smexy archetype. Alan Rickman, that means you. So, while I am enamoured of Queen Christina, I am not *enamoured* of her.
Right ho, onward. Why not continue with a catalogue of my genteel artifacts? Be forewarned, they might cause an antiquarian to drool slightly.
- A collection of four pocketwatches (my favorite being a piece from Cash's of Ireland)
- Two smoking jackets
- A tobacco pipe which, sadly, was in the pocket of my smoking jacket when I trod upon it....I suppose it should be crossed off the list....
- Mother-of-pearl plated opera glasses, circa 1910
- A variety of waistcoats, courtesy of the DAV
- An etoile-style, black brocade corset, which I often wear (well-laced) beneath my day clothing
- Monocle!
- Walking sticks. One cannot be without a walking stick. And one *certainly* cannot be without a sword cane.
- Various jars of poisonous herbs...though this may only gain precedent from Victorian gentlemen such as Sherlock Holmes and Cain Hargreaves.
- Absinthe.
- A full head of literary and historical facts, thought of as arcane by the masses, but quite useful when playing Pictionary.
- Melancholy.
- My own personal library. I hope it will one day rival that of
Inkheart's Elinor Loredan.
- A chamber dressed in scarlet, dark wood, and a good deal of garish gold trimmings. Ooh, the Aesthete in me is well-nourished!
And I suppose it is rude of me to count out all of my shiny pennies in front of the poor, but heavens, how nice it is to realize how far I've come from being a simple little goth girl in cat ears.
And what kind of toys do *you* play with?