A Modern Victorian Retreat Day

My teatime spread

 God bless the Wayback Machine, honestly.

One of my favourite websites that I discovered back in my early twenties was a website called "Eras of Elegance", one that appealed immensely to my history-loving sensibilities. It was divided into sections such as "movies" and "fashion" and "lifestyle", and gave not only brief overviews of historical eras and trends (i.e. the Ancient era, the Medieval era, the Regency, the Rococo, the Victorian period, etc.) but also gave lists of fiction that took place in these eras, historically inspired recipes, and ways one could translate historical fashions and hairstyles into a modern street look.

I loved that website so much. I was heartbroken when it disappeared from the internet. Thankfully, on the internet nothing is gone forever!

The Eras of Elegance homepage

One piece of the website that I had completely forgotten about, that I rediscovered again thanks to the Wayback Machine, was the ideas the site's author(s?) had for a "Victorian Retreat Weekend". That is, a weekend where one turns off all modern technology and does activities predetermined by the website (I assume the schedule is to be printed before the technology all goes off) to live in the spirit of the Victorians, if not quite historically accurately.

This idea intrigued me and would not let me go. I knew, now that I discovered it again, that I had no choice. This idea was gripping my mind. I couldn't stop thinking about it for weeks. I just had to do it. But there was no way for me to get an entire weekend off - so I consolidated it to just a day, combining the suggested schedules for two days into one:

7:00 am: Rise and shine, get ready for the day
8:00 am: Make breakfast from scratch.
9:00 am: After cleaning up from breakfast, morning devotional activity or reading.
10:00 am: Housework, crafting, or family time.
11:30 am: Prepare a picnic lunch.
12:00 noon: Picnic lunch at a local park.
1:30 pm: Afternoon excursion - possibly a local historical museum or antiquing.
4:00 pm: Afternoon tea. Once tea is cleaned up, reading, crafting, or writing in a journal.
6:30 pm: Prepare dinner.
7:30 pm: Dinner and clean-up.
8:00 pm: Family time.
9:00 pm: Back to the future.

I set rules for myself. I would make historically inspired recipes, I would dress historically-inspired (in a vintage Gunne Saxe dress - Victorian by way of the 1970s), and I wouldn't use any appliances that they did not have in the Victorian/Edwardian eras. My phone was only used as a camera (they did have cameras) and a phone for 8pm family time (my family lives in California and it's my sister's birthday, I couldn't not call just because I wanna escape modern life for awhile).

So then how did it go?

My Weekend Back in Time

According to modern science, time travel (as fiction portrays it) is technically impossible. That doesn't stop history buffs like me from secretly wishing and dreaming that it were possible, from planning where I would go and who I would meet.

This last weekend (the 17th and the 19th) I got the chance to do some of the things I always secretly wished and dreamed for. I got to visit the late 18th century and brush elbows with both Alexander Hamilton and Thomas Jefferson. And I got to go to the late 19th/early 20th century Lower East Side and take in some of the immigrant cultures of the area. And it was really fun!

And I brought my Polaroid!

Okay, okay, I didn't literally go back in time. Hamilton Grange had an event on Saturday called "the Feuding Founding Fathers" and invited reenactors from the American Historical Theatre to come debate the issue of a national banking system as Jefferson and Hamilton. And on Sunday, the Museum at Eldridge Street, one of my particular favourites, held their yearly "Egg Creams, Egg Rolls, and Empanadas" Festival - a celebration of immigrant cultures in that area of the Lower East Side, particularly Jewish, Chinese, and Puerto Rican culture.

15 Places in the Bay Area I Never Got to Visit

I love where I live. I love it a lot. But lately, I've been getting pangs of severe homesickness. I miss San Jose. I miss the Winchester Mystery House, and Kelley Park. I miss eating at La Villa and Chaat Cafe. I wonder constantly - Did Sarah Winchester ever get homesick for New Haven? Did Alexander Hamilton ever get homesick for Nevis or St. Croix?

I have an advantage that they didn't have, of course. I have the internet. It allows me to at least look at photos of these places I've loved and left behind. But this, too, is both a blessing and a curse. Because the internet, you see, also allows me to discover places that I never got to see in person. Not just in San Jose, but all over the Bay Area, which will always be my home, even as I make a new home for myself in New Jersey.

This list is meant to serve not only as a place for my wistful longing, but as a plea to my friends back home who are reading this. I never got to see these places, but I encourage you to go look at them! Take lots of photos and send me photos, tell me everything, let me live vicariously through you!!!

Tiny Update: Room Makeover

I don't have time for a major update, but I am happy to report that I have updated my bedroom, with Sarah's loving help. Most of the reasons for me doing so will be made public later, but I can say it was a long time coming. It's still a work in progress, but I'm so very proud of it, why not show it off? I don't have 'before' pictures, unfortunately, but enjoy the 'after's!

 Here you can see the main part of my room. My bed was previously in the centre of the room, and the bookshelf shoved into the corner. The Grandma Chair had been in another room entirely. We picked up my bed and moved it so that it's now up against the radiator. (Not pictured. Also not pictured, the dresser we moved next to the radiator.) The bookshelf got moved as well, and then we had a heck of a time getting the Grandma Chair, as I have affectionately named the thing, into the room to its ultimate spot.

 A closeup of the corner the chair is in, my cozy creative corner where I do most of my writing. (I'm writing from that corner right now.) The second chair is when Sarah comes over to help me with a certain writing project. In this photo there's a scarf draped over the back of the chair, but that'll likely be moved. Eventually.

Opposite my bed is my gallery wall. When I started it, it had the vague theme of "eccentric Victorian traveller", thus the old portraits and silhouette and the palmistry guide and global goods such as the tin heart and Polish flag. (Though I've had that flag for years.) The theme has... not quite been executed, as after a few months I decided to go with a more eclectic "I like it so it goes" theme for the entire room. However, there is at least one piece of art that hasn't made it onto the gallery wall...

This painting. THIS PAINTING. Sarah and I found it at a yard sale down the street from Hamilton Park when she visited me last weekend and I fell in love with it immediately. Isn't it the worst, kitschiest piece of fantasy schlock you've ever seen? I needed this in my life. It's handpainted on a piece of black velvet and I'm not sure what it's meant to portray but I'm a little obsessed with it and its special brand of kitsch. I'm thinking of hanging it between the bookshelf and the Grandma Chair.

As you can see, the room is still a work in progress. In addition to hanging the painting, I also would like to get a rug, and I've bought a clothing rack which still hasn't shipped to me yet. But I'm pleased with how it's going so far. It's nice to finally love my room so much.
-Nym

Visiting the Grave of Sarah Winchester

Yesterday, three former Winchester Mystery House tour guides (myself, Sarah, and Hannah) took a journey that I have been meaning to take since moving to the East Coast. We met in Grand Central Station at noon, boarded a train to New Haven, CT, and went to the Evergreen Cemetery to find the final resting place of the woman who built the House we all loved working in so much - Sarah Winchester.

Nym's Guide to the Jewish Lower East Side

It's officially Passover, that special time of year to have "Da-Dayenu" stuck in your head for 8 days straight and to eat so much matzo that by the end of the week you never wanna see a matzo ball again. It's time to commemorate the "passing over" of the Jewish people from the slavery of Egypt to the promised land by attending a Seder or two, and/or by (and this is my own yearly tradition) watching your favourite movie adaptation of the Exodus story. (For the record, I'm team "Prince of Egypt", and all you team "Ten Commandments" people can bite my ass.)

But while all that that is certainly worth commemorating, it's not the only "passing over" that the Jewish people have experienced. And lately (thanks in large part to Sarah who enables me) I've been thinking a lot about a different time period's "passing over".

Namely, when Eastern European Jews fled the pogroms and prejudice in the Pale of Settlement, passed over the Atlantic Ocean, and settled in the United States. Many of them in the Lower East Side neighbourhood of New York City, as dramatised by another appropriate movie for this time of year, "American Tail." (I like animated movies, so sue me!)

Photo courtesy of the National Park Service

With the current political "debate" surrounding immigration (in my opinion there should be no debate - human beings are not illegal, you fucks), this Passover is a perfect time to find connections with our immigrant past, and the Lower East Side is the perfect place to do that, whether or not you are Jewish. (This place was also home to Italian, Polish-Catholic, Irish, German, and Chinese immigrants. This post is focused on the Jewish experience in honour of Passover.)

Now unfortunately, the historic Lower East Side is changing fast nowadays. Gentrification is pushing out family businesses - There's a Whole Foods on Houston Street, and I heard recently of plans to completely overhaul the Seward Park area, which I am completely against as it completely changes the historic character of the park, which is one of the few places left where one can still imagine what life was like for these immigrants. And even putting gentrification aside, Chinatown is rapidly expanding, pushing into the area and covering up Hebrew signs with Chinese ones. (Though the two communities do mostly live in harmony, thankfully.)

However, there are still quite a few remnants of the neighbourhood that the Eastern European Jews of the early 20th century knew, if one knows where to look. And they're all within walking distance of one another, so it's quite easy to form a walking tour of all of them! Of course, I won't tell you which order to visit all of these - I think it's much more fun to wander the streets and take in the sights until you stumble across them rather than try to hit every stop in order like some sort of grocery store checklist. I'm simply presenting them in alphabetical order.

The Sad Tale of Angelica Hamilton

Every so often at the Grange, I get asked "what's your favourite story about something in this house?" I never quite know how to answer. It'd be simpler if they asked what my favourite story about Alexander Hamilton was - I have lots of answers to that one. But about the Grange itself?

Usually, I answer, "I don't know if I would call it my favourite, since it's completely depressing, but I can tell you the most interesting one..."

This is the story that I tell.