Karen the Ruskinologist reminded me today that some months ago I'd pledged to publish photographic evidence of my Pre-Raphaelite feet. You don't hear nearly enough about Pre-Raphaelite feet these days. Besides which, my foots are poseuses of the most shameless order, and they practically set up the camera themselves. So here are pho-toes, ye nymphes and swaynes, of meine Fuße. Twenty-nine years in the making, and, give or take a few blisters, never a sour moment.
Dante Gabriel, eat your long-toe-painting heart out.
Here my feet share an intimate fireside moment, free from the daily trammel of susan shocks.
Here. on the other hand (ha!), is a lone foot, stark raving stark. Note the Pre-Raphaelite toes. They span whole octaves.
And here, old lefty, six feet tall in his stockinged feet, tries camouflaging with the rug. Hole in hosiery cunningly concealed during the day by boot.
Right. Thank you. That will be all.
Here my feet share an intimate fireside moment, free from the daily trammel of susan shocks.
Here. on the other hand (ha!), is a lone foot, stark raving stark. Note the Pre-Raphaelite toes. They span whole octaves.
And here, old lefty, six feet tall in his stockinged feet, tries camouflaging with the rug. Hole in hosiery cunningly concealed during the day by boot.
11 comments:
Goodness, they are everything you promised and so much more! Mark has fantastic feet, but you've managed to top even him. I was so inspired by your feet that I was forced to make a midnight rush to the Rossetti archive, but all I could find was one tantalising record. I then spent an unprofitable few minutes looking at photographs of Jane Morris to see if she ever hitched her dresses up high enough to show her feet. I needn't have bothered, for I know how her feet must have looked- precisely like yours!
They are splendid and I hope they have received or will receive sonnets in their honour.
Thank you, Karen. This is just the kind of acknowledgement of their Pre-Raphaelititude that I need. Though sonnets in their honour might be a bit excessive.
Next up, my Bloomsbury earlobes!
It's always a pleasure to be of service! Fantastic feet, though, really.
Bloomsbury earlobes- would they be elongated or small and delicate?
Kinda wobbly.
"Wobbly" sounds like it has potential. My earlobes, alas, don't seem to be distinguished in any particular way, but I'm going to put in a claim for a Regency neck and a Roman nose.
I fete your feat of feet!
Effetely?
I don't know about that... but if the singular is 'foot', why isn't the plural 'foots'?
Because lots of words in Old English used to form their plural, not by adding the suffix 's', but by internal vowel mutation. Only a few survive, like goose and geese, foot and feet, but there used to be pots more, buch and beech (that's book and books to you).
The traffic from the foot fetish folk should whack up the stats.
yum
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