We were expecting to meet a few of our French readers in Paris. In fact, two or three had arranged to meet us at the train station as we arrived on the fast under-sea train from London. But what actually happened could never have been expected. At least a dozen French Aristasians were at the station, very excited at meeting girls from the Aristasian embassy.
But this was only the beginning. We drove in a cavalcade of real cars — well three actually, a Quirrie Peugeot, a Trentish Citroën and a Riley from Kadoria, not unlike the Embassy Car at home. When we arrived at the hotel there easily two hundred girls outside, all dressed in up-to-date French fashions from Coco Chanel to Christienne Dior. As we emerged from the Riley they raised a great cheer, shouting "Vive l'Aristasie! Vive les Blondes! Vive les Brunettes!"
We were ushered through the crowd into our hotel room where Lindie — ever the showgirl — came out on the balcony and raised her hand to deafening cheers. As the noise died down, she said:
"Friends, Parisiennes, fellow Aristasians: As the Pit sinks slowly into its decadent sunset a new force is being born in Telluria. A vibrant, beautiful elegant force which will transform all things. We call that force Aristasia. By your wonderful welcome today, you have demonstrated the power of this glorious movement. And this is only the beginning. Today Paris; tomorrow the world!"
Discussions were held in the hotel room about the establishment of Aristasia-in-Telluria-en-France. A Paris District has already been founded and it will soon become the centre of a network of Aristasian Districts extending over large areas of France and parts of Germany, Austria and Italy. We are hoping eventually establish a full-time Aristasian Coffee Bar and Night Club in Paris, and perhaps later a dance club.
Now that we are back at the Embassy, the echoes of cheering fading slowly from our ears, with a chance to think calmly over the ecstatic events of our visit, we can truly say that this day will live forever in our memory.
April the 1st, twenty-oh-four.
The Embassy Staff
Well, here we are back from Paris. Nothing would make our pre-Paris posting pop up, so here it is now, after we are back, complete with a picture of the hotel we had never seen, but now have stayed in and loved — if that all makes sense.
Will pop a picture soon with one of us on one of the balconies so you can see what we looked like there. In the meantime, it is good to be back among you all once more.
The Blonde Management
Hello My Dear Pettes,
Well, with all the comings and goings, or rather, comings and not goings! of our delightful management, I have made a swift alteration of what was to be the next Cocktail of the Week. Ah, such are the changing paths of life.
In the light of recent events, I have been furiously searching for an appropriate Cocktail to bring Good Fortune to my dear friends. I couldn't find exactly the sort of thing I was looking for, but then I happened upon this delightful little number in the faithful, old Savoy Cocktail Book, and I hoped it might cheer them both, and send then on their merry way!
Bonne Chance, and Bon Voyage, mes amis!
PARISIAN BLONDE COCKTAIL
1/3 Sweet Cream.
1/3 Jamaica Rum.
Shake well and strain into cocktail glass.
Until next time,
Your Sophisticated BarBrunette!
One last drink, barpette — a rusty nail, I think. We shan't be drinking in the Cocktail Bar for a few days, I fancy.
Well, now we are really nearly off. We are going to a charming Art-Neo hotel in Paris It is — well, actually I have a little photograph of it here in my bag. Just a moment. Yes, here it is.
What do you think: rather charming, nicht wahr? — I mean, n'est-ce pas?
We have been shopping as I really wanted Something for Paris. I wasn't sure what, but something. Something blonde, you know.
We looked yesterday and we looked today. Miss J. found a gorgeous suit which — um — suits her down to the ground. Well, not quite down to the ground because the skirt is described as a mini-skirt, though it really isn't that short. She looks gorgeous, but just a shade too scarily strict for little me. I've actually got a detention pending, but I suppose it will have to wait 'till after Paris. What a shame.
The suit is half-price in a sale, but we shall have to wait till we come back as they hadn't a jacket in miss J's size so are ordering one in from another shop. Still, that will be something to stop us crying when we get home from Paris.
But what about my Blonde Something for Paris?
Well just as we thought we should find nothing, I found the gorgeousest Quirrie pink purse with black and white polka-dots and chrome fastenings. Here it is.
Well, yes. I know it isn't the best photograph in the world, and I know the clasps look gold and not silver. You'll just have to use your imagination. You'll never believe how long it took me to get it this good and make a picture in which you could actually see the white polka-dots as well as the black ones.
All the same, I am sure you can make out how delightful it is. It is a charming mixture of Art Neo and Quirrie blondery and just tiny — it fits neatly into the palm of one's hand; just big enough to take one's foreign change.
By the way, what have such dots got to do with the polka? Does any one know?
With lots of love and fond farewells,
I adored the fairy picture on Tigrou's latest piece. I also loved the essay on harmony and submission. I do believe in discipline as a real and important part of life.
But I have to say I found the discipline in that story a bit too severe. Some day I would like to be a part of Aristasia, but is that sort of discipline really what one could expect?
No, it certainly isn't! The Tigrou pieces are not just stories, but accounts (often rather fanciful, obviously!) of real happenings in a real household. It is a rather severe household, and not at all like most Aristasian households. This blonde would certainly be terrified by such severity and has never encountered it, though she has lived one hundred percent in Aristasia for years. Unless you have a particular personal need for such severe discipline (and most girls haven't) you will never encounter it in Aristasia.
But Aristasia is a world, and it takes many different sorts of people to make a world.
A hundred thousand abject and most humble apologies to Tigrou who wrote a striking piece in her continuing series some time ago and we — O mea culpa — have been tardy beyond all conscionable tardiness in posting it. But here it is now: and to make up for our dreadfulism, it is accompanied by the loveliest picture in the world — not the second loveliest, not a member of the Lovely Top Ten, but the beyond-all-doubt-and-question loveliest, courtesy of the Divine Miss B.
There is a miniature of it here, but it hardly does it justice. Pop over there now to see the Real Thing.
Yesterday I went to the dentist to have my teeth ''cleaned.'' It was an absolutely horrid experience involving more needles and injections. I was very good this time, but my naughtiness exploded later in the evening. I was very grumpy and moody, because my mouth was hurting. Nanny is not very pleased with me and she is going to make me write lines all day, which means I cannot do colouring! It is not fair, particularly as I had nine strokes of the governess [a type of cane — Editress] as well. Nanny says that I am selfish and inconsiderate. I think that she is too strict sometimes.
I have bought more tops for India and I am going to smuggle them in my hand luggage. Fleur is also smuggling things to India in her little pink bag. She intends to take colouring pens and supplies of food, including a big bag of sherbet lemons and lots of bars of chocolate. She has been storing these for weeks under her bed. She says she is worried about the food in India as it might upset her tummy. Fleur does not like curry. Apparently they eat a lot of the stuff over there, so she is not in luck! Nanny says that she will have to eat what she is given. Fleur says that she will take her pink bag with her to the restaurants and scoop her curry into it when Nanny isn't looking. I don't think much of her plan. Anyone who has ever had anything to do with Nanny, knows that she is 'looking'' all the time. She has eyes like a hawk and sees things even when she is not in the room. It is quite incredible really.
Anyway, I think Fleur is looking for trouble. I am not going to tell on her, because I think the whole thing will be quite amusing, especially when Nanny discovers the rotting pieces of chicken she is also storing for the trip. Very soon, Fleur's bedroom is going to start smelling very odd. I bide my time. When Nanny finds out, which will not be too long, Fleur will get a big smack. I will not feel sorry for her and neither should you.
Fleur visited Wendy the other day and they did colouring together. She coloured a picture of Eeyore and Miss J said that he looked sick, because he was green. Whoever heard of a green Eeyore? Fleur is not the sharpest tool in the box, but some people believe she is very ''sweet.' She is not ''sweet'' at all. I can vouch for that. Apparently she was very good with Wendy this time and did not try to cause her any grievous bodily harm.
I am still thinking about philosophy. I haven't arrived at any conclusions yet, but when I do, I will tell you about them.
The people of the ancient Indus Valley depicted the supreme goddess Durga riding a tiger. Durga means ''beyond reach.'' Durga brings light and peace. She is the feminine force, who combats evil male power. She rides the tiger, who is also beyond the reach of any mortal. From Siberia to south east Asia, the tiger is revered as guardian of the forests, who creates rain, keeps nightmares away and brings about healing. People still invoke the tiger to prevent disaster and to provide harmony and peace.
It sounds like you girls over there in the Embassy could do with a bit of light and peace. Do not be afraid. Pray to Durga and she will save you from the forces of darkness. Perhaps you should invoke the tiger too. Disaster is upon you at the moment! Never mind. Enjoy Paris. It is absolutely super. I lived there for a year in a place called Rue de la Huchette in the Quartier Latin. Paris is undoubtedly the most romantic place in the world. It was the first place Diana ever took me. We were so unbelievably in love. We still are. Diana is my Durga, who provides harmony and peace for me. She has taken my nightmares away and made me whole. She is the feminine force in my life and the guardian of my soul. My picture is for her. Diana is the most beautiful lady on earth and in the ethereal realms.
May Durga be with you girls. Remember, ''We will always have Paris.'' Rick knew what he was talking about!
Love from Tigrou.
I am somewhat minded to repeat, in extraordinary detail,
all the misfortunes, mishaps and messes that chase an Aristasian brunette
when she ventures into the Pit to obtain travel documents. However, that would
be boring, so I shall refrain from venting my spleen here.
What I shall take great delight in telling you is that we have now booked a little jaunt to gay Paris for a day or two next week. If I have to walk to Paris, we are going to Paris. If I have to drive Vivienne to Paris, I am going to Paris - perhaps we could process her up the Champs Elysees to l'Arc de Triumph in a symbolic gesture of defiance of the Grumms!
More news will no doubt be forthcoming before we forth-come, but for now the number of skirmishes in which we are thwarted are dwarfed by the battles in which we are ragingly and dashingly victorious!
Veni, Vidi, Vino....................I know that's Latin (roughly), and not French but the Spirit seems appropriate, don't you think?!
NOTE: In case there is any doubt on the issue I will thank certain rough brunettes to hold their flapping tongues over the origin of this expression, thank you very much!
Well, here we still are. Many dear Aristasian friends have telephoned and written to wish us bon voyage, but it turned out to be non voyage, at least for a brief moment. The Forces of Darkness are fighting hard to obstruct our path, but we shall be victorious!
Perhaps I am still an Estrenne at heart. I was born in Novaria, and although Novaria is a Western Province, it was founded by Amazonians and parts of it are still very Eastern in Spirit and culture.
But you knew all that. Anyway, I was born in Novaria even though I have lived in Quirinelle for most of my young life. But when things happen the way things have been happening — when Aristasia is making leaps forward, but absolutely everything seems to conspire to trip us up, I cannot but believe that it really is the Forces of Darkness drawing their swords against us and that these mundane little events are, for all their apparent triviality, battles in the great and eternal war between light and darkness.
After our troubles yesterday, Miss Collerton, one of our charming young schoolmistresses, took charge and went off to the passport office to collect a passport so that we could make new plans for travel. The Collections Office had suffered a burst water main this morning and everything was in chaos. Miss Collerton also had her railway ticket stolen from her pocket.
The Grumms are just hopping mad because Aristasia is moving forward and are trying every trick to stop us. It seems very important that we should go.
We have been invoking Sai Vikhë, the Angel of Courage and of Battle to assist us in these conflicts, and curiously enough, darling Tigrou (yes, she does really exist) has been working on a picture of Durga, who is something like the Indian equivalent of Sai Vikhë.
I am printing her beautiful picture so that you can see it. She is rather fierce, I know, but she was born to battle evil male forces in India and is, I am sure, another face of our own battle-angel, Sai Vikhë.
She always rides a tiger, by the way, it isn't just Tigrouery!
Haya Vikhë. Pray for us, dear sisters, in our battle for the light!
I wonder if you have ever heard of Grumms. They are grotesque and ugly creatures, sometimes with pointy ears or staring eyes, sometimes with cunning, twisted faces, sometimes with grossly stupid ones. You can see them represented in the gargoyles on some mediaeval Tellurian buildings.
Grumms are the agents of darkness; embodiments of error and evil. In older times they were seen as the sin-creatures that we leave outside when we enter the sacred space of the Temple.
I mention Grumms, because there have been a lot of them about lately. As Aristasia moves forward in this new Year of Sai Raya, the Forces of Darkness are just hopping mad and trying every trick to attack us.
Well, we got as far as the airport and then were stopped by Grumms. Trouble over passports, an old leg-wound and various other problems have stopped the Great Expedition to the Sweet and Sultry South in its tracks and, believe it or not, we have returned to Castle Mushroom.
However, we shall not be defeated. Oh no. With any luck the Great Air Caravan will move on shortly, but for the moment we are back. We'll let you know when we really are going.
In the meantime, You will no doubt be curious after hearing about the Founding of Castle Mushroom, so we thought you might like to see a first picture of the Castle.
This is the Mushroom Portal seen from within. Despite its delicate appearance, it is heavily defended with bars, bolts and hooks as befits a Mighty Stronghold — even though they are cunningly concealed.
The door is blazoned with a rose in stained glass — the rose being the Emblem of Quirinelle and her tutelary Janya, Sai Sushuri — what you cannot see is that the frosted glass that surrounds it has a pattern of oak leaves, the oak being sacred to Sai Thamë and her province of Trent.
Most appropriate, since the District of Avenbridge, of which Castle Mushroom is the centre, stands in Quirinelle very close to the Trentish border.
The Castle is in its infancy — not yet as well developed as the nearby Tiger's Lair — but it is already taking shape as the Art-Neo castle which had been planned.
For more information, together with photographs of the Tiger's Lair and of the Old Embassy (now gone, to be replaced by Castle Mushroom) see the Morning Letter's recent interview with the Aristasian Ambassadress.
In the meantime, lots of love from,
The intrepid, ill-starred, but ultimately-to-be-victorious travellers
P.S. How's that for a windy self-soubriquet?
What? In Girls' Town you say you are going to Southern Vintesse and in the same letter you say it is southern Novaria.
If you can't remember what you are saying why not just say ITALY-IN-ARISTASIA??? Or ARISTASIA-IN-ITALY?? No wonder you missed your flight, you didn't even know where you were going!
Berks-r-us are the blonde management.
Miss C of Avendale
Hmmph — the Rough Brunette contingent heard from, I see. Actually, it was South Novaria. A mere slip of the keyboard, don't you know. Could happen to anyblondy.
We are very sorry. We didn't mean to alarm you. Well, actually we did, but all in fun, don't you know. However, it is true. For about a week Embassy Staff, Blonde Management and others will be popping off to the Sunny South and Girls' Town will enter one of its cryogenic Sleeping Beauty fits.
Howsoever we shall be providing a means to keep in touch while we are away. If you would like to stay in touch with Girls' Town during our sojourn in southern Vintesse please drop a line to and ask to be added to the Keep-in-Touch list. That way you'll hear all the news and can even send contributions. The temporary arrangement will probably take the form of an elektrapostal newsletter.
In the meantime you can read a special edition of The Morning Letter to keep things going while we are away.
The Blonde Management
We are now packed up and ready to leave Castle Mushroom for our sojourn in Southern Vintesse. The new year, according to the Old Aristasian Calendar, began on Sunday, making this the year of Sai Raya -- the Angel of the Sun.
And on this first Sunday of the year Castle Mushroom was formally founded. Miss Serelique poured libations of wine upon the foundations of the Central Pillar. And invoked to the angels of the Four Quarters. More than this, I really cannot tell you, but I can tell you that Castle Mushroom is now truly founded both upon earth and upon the Celestial Realm. And that her work as the Embassy of Aristasia in Telluria may now truly begin.
But before it does, we are going in a delightful party to the sunny South. While we're gone we shall try to keep in touch through the baby. Edition of the Morning Letter. If you want to post during that time just write to Miss_Miralene@yahoo.co.uk and your letter will be included in the newsletter.
Looking forward to hearing from you were we sojourn in sunny South Novaria.
Wine-drenched love and sun-soaked kisses.
The Blonde Management
Karen's suggestions upon the Beer Goggle question are interesting but perhaps a shade "exoteric".
The term "Coca-Cola spectacles" is often used in a slightly more metaphorical sense to mean the world-outlook of those who are entirely conditioned by Americanised Coca-Cola culture: "They cannot understand anything traditional: they see the world through Coca-Cola spectacles".
By the same token I suspect that Beer Goggles symbolise the world-outlook of those conditioned by Pit-British pseudo-proletarianised culture.
Of course "short sighted people who need to avoid the light" is probably another way of saying exactly the same thing.
What was that person talking about? I have never "fantacised"(Hm?!) about a kitten or a piece of embroidery in my life. I did once take my new cordless power drill to bed, but that was just because I love it so much. My mummy only let me do it for one night - I've got a cuddly dog now.
Have any of you brunettes out there ever installed a fitted wardrobe? I have only done ones that I built myself from scratch and have never fitted one that you buy from a shop.
I am also a little concerned that I am having to overprime the carburetor on the old jalopy. When she refuses to start I am checking points (they seem fine), doing electrical checks on the alternator, starter motor and fuse box, and priming (obviously).
I must go and do a few more bits and pieces soon, but if anyone wants to talk about plumbing, electrics, carpentry, mechanics or beer, I'm your girl...and I'll wager I'd make mincemeat of certain people in all areas, especially the last! However, I don't think one ought to make a virtue of behaving like a Philistine or a short-sighted beer bore, do you? Anyway, no girl would really want to behave like a foul-mouthed lager-loutish chap would she?
Zoë, please write some more letters; you are just the funniest, blondest thing in the world! If you want Katie for your sister, you may take her away immediately; I have no good use for the little squirt.
Love and Kisses,
I had to write in and tell you about my new clothes. I am so pleased with them. I have a selection of beautiful little blouses for India. I particularly like the blue one with pink flowers and the white one, which is very flattering. It is quite tight and shows my figure off to perfection. I have lots of things to take now. Nanny says I must choose four tops. I said that this was quite impossible. After all, we are going for two weeks. She says there is a laundry service and we can have them washed. I think she is is so horrid. Not only do I have to wear those silly boots, but I will be wearing the same clothes day after day. It is not fair.
I am really enjoying the philosophical discussions. Like Miss Beaumarsh, I have learnt lots of things from Miss Selerique. She is jolly nice and she cares about everyone. She loves me and is always telling me how nice I look. I'm sure if Miss Selerique was taking me to India, she would let me take all the clothes I needed to look pretty. Miss Selerique says that one's appearance is very important. She is very clever, so I trust her opinions. She says that I must make the most of myself and I agree with her. She never sets me nasty homework, as she knows I am not very clever. Sometimes, she asks me to do drawings of dresses. She has even taken me shopping. She is much nicer to shop with than my Nanny, who will never allow me enough time to try things on. She is so impatient.
Fleur is being very good at the moment. She is very nice to me, because I told her that if she borrowed any more of my things, I would push her off the elephant in India and she would fall on a tiger and get eaten up. She is much smaller than me, so it would be possible. She threatened to tell Nanny, but I said that if she did, I would tell Nanny about the bad thing she did a few weeks ago. She was very quiet after that and has been pleasant towards me ever since. Good!
I had my tooth out two days ago and I made a terrible fuss at the dentist. Nanny was absolutely furious and gave me a strapping afterwards even though I was sooooooooooo ill. Before I went in, I was in a state of total panic and I could hardly breathe. I was so frightened. There was an elderly blonde at the dentist who sat next to me and talked about injections. She said that the needle would hurt more than the tooth being pulled. I started to think about the needle and ran outside, screaming. Nanny ran after me and dragged me back in. She would not let me sit next to the elderly lady after that. When we arrived home, she spanked me with a short strap and sent me to bed. She said she was quite exhausted by 'my blonderies.' Later she was nice to me however and made me lovely food and stroked my hair. She says I must be more sensible. I think it is hard to be sensible when someone is going to stick a needle in your mouth.
Anyway, I will write about philosophy next time. I have a lot to say on the subject.
Blonde Management wonders what are beer goggles. The answer seems elementary, my dear Watson. Coca-Cola spectacles are very thick spectacles for short-sighted people. The reference is to the bottoms of Coca Cola bottles. Beer bottles are generally brown, therefore Beer Goggles are spectacles for short-sighted people who need to avoid the light.
Obvious, nicht wahr?
Hello banana h8ers! HOPE YOU HAVE A NICE TIME FANTACISIN BOUT KITTENS AND EMBROIDERY BUT THERE IS REAL DRINK OUT THERE...I OFF2 PUT MY BEER GOGGLES ON & GO AFISH!!
hope you all find your peter pan...
Thank you for your fascinating letter — we do love Secret Codes. What does it mean though? The only bit I can really understand is that I think you would like some beer rather than a cocktail and imagine you will not find beer at this bar. But you are quite wrong. We have a charming bottle of Belgian Frambozenbier here — raspberry flavoured, you know. Aren't you impressed? I bet you thought the most we would have would be a tin of nasty old Fosters or something! I know you'll just adore it. Would you like a half-pint glass or one of these cute little third-of-a-pint thingies? Half-pint I suspect, as you sound like a brunette.
By the way, what are beer goggles? Are they anything like Coca-Cola spectacles?
Dear Miss Serelique,
I just wanted to write and Thank You very much for your response to my simple philosophy questions. Your words were most clear and helpful, I am sure some of the other regular Girls would agree, and join me in thanking you.
I also wanted to point out that I posted my entry of "Cocktail of the Week" to the Blonde Management just before your reply appeared in the Cocktail Bar. I was anxious that You did not think I had overlooked your reply in favour of frivolities, or that my priorities favour spirits over the spiritual!
I do hope it will not inconvenience you if I post some more
questions in due course. I am making humble efforts to keep a discussion flowing,
and have also encouraged any other Girls who have an interest, to feel free
Thank You, Once again for taking the time to share your knowledge and wisdom with us.
With Much Respect,
Miss Rebecca Beaumarsh
Question: Do You allow any red haired americans to join?
I am just checking out Your site tonight.
The colour of you hair is actually immaterial (charming, I am sure, but immaterial to whether you are a blonde or a brunette). As for Americans, we have lots of them regularly at Aristasia Friends. Do feel free to post to the site and join in the chat.
You can read more about the "redhead question" on this page.
Yes, it's that time again! and the next COCKTAIL OF THE WEEK is taken from the Savoy Cocktail Book. I have acquired rather a smart, facsimile edition, whilst I wait for my very own Real, Up-to-date Trentish edition to wing its way through Elektraspace.
I have selected this Cocktail in honour of all the New girls presently showing
an interest in Aristasia, both in Elektraspace and in Tellurian London and
Avenbridge School. We hope to welcome many new Blondes and Brunettes this
year, through the sturdy doors of "Castle Mushroom"- as the official
Embassy residence is affectionately known. So, any of you reticent Pettes
who are considering making that first step in contacting us, please hesitate
no longer! Simply drop an Elektranote to The Blonde Management
(they are very sweet and approachable, I assure you!) and you have made the
In the meantime, I raise a friendly glass to all those new friends I have yet to meet, Cheers!
WELCOME STRANGER COCKTAIL
1/6 Lemon Juice.
1/6 Orange Juice.
1/6 Cederlund's Swedish Punch.
Shake well and strain into cocktail glass.
(This is jolly tasty, and kicks like a mule! - Blondes Beware!)
'til next time.....
Miss B* X
My sister Fleur thinks she is clever, because she can draw tigers. I think she is quite stupid.Our Nanny loves her more than me and rarely smacks her except with a hairbrush occasionally. Fleur is seven. She is quite pretty, but she is not as pretty as me. Nanny says that I should 'make allowances' for her, as she is much younger than me, but I think she only says that because Fleur is her favourite.
I would like to smack Fleur and sometimes I do. She is infuriating. Everyone agrees with me on this, even Annya. Fleur was really horrid to Wendy, one of Annya's relatives, who is eight. Nanny took them to a wood near the old Embassy on a very hot day in summer. Fleur was beastly to Wendy, whose mummy had recently gone away. On the way back in the car, Fleur tried to strangle Wendy and threatened to throw her crayons out of the car. Even Nanny was surprised by Fleur's horridness that day. She gave her a big spanking with a gym shoe. Fleur made a big fuss and Nanny made her stand in the corner for ages.
Anyway, I thought I'd tell you about Fleur. She was nasty to Louise as well. Louise is very sweet and she used to come over for tea until Fleur started bullying her. She tried to strangle Louise too.
I think it is very difficult having a sister like Fleur. Annya says that I must try to be patient with her. I'm afraid I just can't.
I have been reading the new letters about philosophy. I don't know anything about philosophy, as I am allowed to miss those lessons. Miss Wardelle says that philosophy is even more difficult than French. I'm sure it is, especially after reading the recent letters. I'm not really sure what a species is. I thought it was some sort of reptile.
Of all Fleur's 'friends,' I like Katy best. She is a super little brunette, who Fleur never even tries to bully. Katy is very sensible for her age and she never annoys people. I wish Katy was my sister.
Today, I am going to buy some new clothes with Nanny for our holiday. We are going to India to see tigers. We are all excited about it, especially Fleur. I have some horrid boots to wear in the jungle. I hate them, because they are so uncomfortable as they have no stiletto heel. Nanny says I must wear them in the house to 'get used' to them. I said that I would never 'get used' to them.' Nanny said I was being rude and gave me a strapping. She says that I can't take any nice shoes with me, because we must only take essentials. I said that high heels were essentials and got another strapping. Nanny says I am 'being difficult.' I notice however, that she is allowing Fleur to take her pretty pink shoes. They have found their way into the suitcase. It really isn't fair. Fleur always gets her own way. She has always been Nanny's favourite.
I will tell you more about the preparations for our trip another time. I am quite tired and have some homework to do for Nanny on leopards and their habits. Oh dear. I would much prefer lines. I like doing lines, as I have lovely handwriting.
Love from Zoë
I should like to thank Miss B for her thought-provoking question and apologise for taking so long to reply to it. I am afraid things have been rather busy at Castle Mushroom of late.
To begin with, those unfamiliar with the chapter being discussed may find it here. As you will see, the quotation with which it opens is put forward not as an example of the Aristasian philosophy, but of its opposite. The point being made is that while this outlook may seem stark and brutal, it is logically the same as the popular "scientistic" (as opposed to scientific) view of the universe put inculcated by the schools and mass-media of Telluria and believed by most people.
I shall not go further into this, as it is explained and developed fully in the chapter itself.
What we have to consider here is the particular expression used by Nietzsche: "Let us beware of saying that death is the opposite of life. The living being is only a species of the dead, and a very rare species."
This is the culmination of a series of statements denying that the universe possesses order, harmony or intelligence — a denial that is perfectly logical, and indeed necessary, if one adheres to the view that the universe is simply an accidental phenomenon — a chance falling-together of atoms and molecules — rather than a manifestation of a higher or spiritual principle. And let us note that these two views are the only two possible. There is no middle ground between them. Nietzsche's view may sound extreme, but it is not extreme. It is only a statement in very plain and frank language of what the materialist or accidentalist view of the universe really involves.
And let us further note that this materialist or accidentalist view, while it is utterly predominant in the thought-world of modern Telluria, is a very isolated and strange one. It has never been conceived of in any continent but Europe, and not in Europe before the seventeenth century. Every other people, every other civilisation, has adhered to some form of Essentialism. That is, to the belief that the manifest universe is the creation or reflection or emanation of a spiritual Principle, whether that Principle be called God or the Tao, Brahman or Atman.
And even though such a view has its roots in the seventeenth-century "enlightenment" (a curious name if ever there was one!) it did not become fully formed or even fully possible until Nietzsche's time — that is, the later nineteenth century. So Nietzsche is considering a new phenomenon; a new view of the world: a view so appalling that Nietzsche expresses his reaction to it thus:
Who gave us a sponge to wipe away the entire horizon? What did we do when we unchained this earth from its sun? Whither is it moving now? Whither are we moving now? Away from all suns... Are we not straying as through an infinite nothing? Do we not feel the breath of empty space? Has it not become colder? Is more and more night not coming on all the time?
He is not opposed to this view. He is promoting it. But he is expressing it in all the starkness of its real implications. Miss Trent notes later in the book that while Nietzsche is expounding a radically anti-traditional view he is doing so in terms of traditional symbolism. Everywhere the Sun symbolises the Spirit or the Divine. Again and again in tradition we find the Great Chain which connects all beings and runs from Heaven (the Sun, the Spirit) to earth. Nietzsche talks of the modern accidentalist philosophy in terms of breaking the Chain and losing the light and warmth of the Sun.
So on to this enigmatic statement: The living being is only a species of the dead, and a very rare species. On the face of it, that is not so terribly mysterious. If life itself (according to a certain rather tendentious extension of Darwinian theory, which made total accidentalism theoretically possible for the first time) is the mere falling-together of carbon and hydrogen molecules under certain freak circumstances — if life, in other words, derives purely and solely from dead matter, then we may say that the living being is a species of the dead. A very rare one because only by the most extraordinary set of coinciding chances can this "life" be produced at all.
This, clearly enough, is what Nietzsche means; but what a peculiar and very telling way of expressing it. As in the Sun and Chain passage above, the entire background to this anti-traditional exposition is Tradition itself. The living being is a species of the dead: why? Because Life in the sense that Tradition has always understood it — the Divine Spark, the Breath of Spirit — is absent.
By a curious and very profound use of Language, Nietzsche reveals that in his heart he knows that the accidentalist view of life, the falling-together of bits and pieces of dead matter, is not actually life at all. Such a life, if it were (as he believes is to be) the nature of living beings, would not really be life at all, but only a species of the dead
Hello My dears,
I am writing today in an attempt to get some discussion of a rather more sober nature under way. I have noticed the Cocktail Bar is more than usually frivolous of late, with some rather high spirits in evidence, I hope these spirits are not entirely due to the "Deep Sea" cocktails I introduced you to, I shall be in awfully hot water if I've got you all squiffy.
I've no wish to be a party pooper Pettes, but it would seem there was a time when the Aphrodite Cocktail Bar was a thrilling mixture of jolly jinks, and cultured chat. If you don't believe me, just look at the archives! I have been ploughing through them recently, both here in Aristasian Elektraspace and those living in Belladonna.org. I have learnt a great deal in the process, and it has stimulated many questions in my mind. I hope we current crowd can prove ourselves to be more than the Oh-So-Pretty faces we are!
As an older brunette (and School monitress) with an enquiring mind, I must take up the suggestion of Lindie's and attempt to get the intellectual ball rolling.
Perhaps it would be an initial suggestion to revise and/or expand upon some of the ideas we have been discussing with Miss Serelique in our Common Room sessions that have recently commenced. This may hopefully be of interest and use especially for the benefit of girls unable to attend Avenbridge School because of geographical constraints (particularly those girls in the Tellurian US of A!)
I'll begin then with the first Chapter of Alice Lucy Trent's The Feminine Universe, a key Aristasian study text (available to purchase from the Blonde Management, I believe.) This Chapter, entitled "The Image of the Cosmos" begins with a quotation from Friedrich Nietzsche: "The total nature of the world is.....to all eternity chaos, not in the sense that necessity is lacking, but in that order, structure, form, beauty, wisdom and whatever other human aesthetic notions we may have are lacking.....Let us beware of attributing to it heartlessness and unreason or their opposites: it is neither perfect nor beautiful nor noble, and has no desire to become any of these.....neither does it know any laws. Let us beware of saying there are laws in nature. There are only necessities. There is no one to command, no one to obey, no one to transgress..... Let us beware of saying that death is the opposite of life. The living being is only a species of the dead, and a very rare species."
A "species of the dead", eh? I know I am not very good in the mornings, but I object to being called a "species of the dead"! What the blazes is old Fred driving at with that particular line of thought? (Oh dear, I fear that I am sounding rather like my sister, Eve! She came home for a weekend visit, and perhaps some of her "banter" has been left lurking) What I mean to say is, how can it be that "the living being is a species of the dead"?, and why "a very rare species"? Also, what does Miss Trent intend in opening her book with such a quotation? The subtitle to The Feminine Universe is "An Exposition of the Ancient Wisdom from the Primordial Feminine Perspective" So how does Herr Nietzsche lead in to such themes? I suppose one clear answer is to get through the entire chapter and see the full picture.
I think I have an understanding of the theory behind this quotation, but if any Pette has any deeper knowledge of these ideas, or questions to add, please do.
Looking back at the archives, it does not appear to be entirely unheard of for Miss Trent herself to pop in for a visit to the bar. No doubt to meet some of the older girls for an aperitif and some stimulating conversation! I'm sure we would be honoured if she responded to our humble enquiries personally, but I know she is a very busy academic and authoress, so we cannot be certain of sharing her valuable time. We would be equally blessed by a visit from the learned Mistress Serendra Serelique, with whom I have had the lucky fortune to be personally tutored, along with my fellow Avenbridge pupils. Comment and guidance from a clear and extensive mind such as hers, would surely set our little dialogue on the right track. Here's hoping!
In the mean time, I would like to think I can be as studious
as "Monitress Merle" as seen here, from Angela Brazil's charming
book of the same title. I do hope some of you might consider sharing your
thoughts and ideas with me, so we can study and learn together.
Don't take too much umbrage at being called a species of the dead. It isn't personal — old Fritzi talks like that to every one. However I don't think this is quite the intellectual reply you were looking for. Is there a Doctor of Philosophy in the house?
Well, in Riley, actually.
Bluebird, the Embassy runabout (whom you will find a little further back in the archive) is the Triumph.
When the Aristasian Embassy to Telluria departed for Castle Mushroom, taking the school with it, one important member of the Diplomatic Family remained behind — Vivienne, the Embassy Car.
While Bluebird, the zippy little Triumph Herald, is used for day-to-day gadding about, Vivienne is the car for formal and Ambassadorial occasions. Not to mention picnics!
Sadly,Vivienne had developed a little cough and had to remain
behind in the Cars' Hospital while the rest of us made our way to the beckoning
towers of the Champignon Chateau. But today she was collected and brought
triu state to the New Embassy.
We just thought you would like to know that things are getting more As They Should Be by the day.
More news from Castle Mushroom shortly.
In case you were wondering whether this was a charming fantasy and the picture one culled from ancient magazines, we wish to assure our unsure readers that the picture above is really the current Official Aristasian Embassy Car. Pop along to the School and you may even get a ride in her.
I absolutely love the new wallpaper made available by the Blonde Management. It is from one of those utterly splendid Kadorian Superman animated features, isn't it? It's the one where the robbers try to derail the billion dollar express train and, when Lois Lane hears the shooting, she climbs out of her carriage and scrambled over the coal truck to the engine (without a single spot of coal dust getting on her suit I might add). She sees a machine gun on the floor and starts shooting like fury at the crooks who are zooming along in an armoured car beside the train. Go on Lois, show Superman how it's done, my girl!
Well, anyway, since I'm pinching this wonderful wallpaper from you I thought perhaps you might like to try my old wallpaper on for size. Diana is utterly gorgeous but you ought to be aware (Brunettes pay particular attention) that pictures like this can be seriously detrimental to the amount of work you do whilst staring at your ordinator screen!
P.S. Will someone make Annya tell everyone about what a 'nice' afternoon she had yesterday! (Tee-hee-hee - I'm a Rat fink at last!)
Well, it isn't actually optimised for a wallpaper like your handy-dandy Official Aristasian Wallpapers, but I bet that isn't going to stop you brunettes plonking it on your desktops! Unless you can't resist Lois Lane, of course. What a choice!
Yes, you were right. That absolutely topping Novarian-Kadorian Art-Neo armoured car was zooming along by the train showering Lois with bullets, so she picked up a convenient sub-machine gun and started returning fire. Well, a brunette's got to have some fun, don't she?
And in case any one is feeling left out, remember you can see all these delightful things and more at Cinema Showings in Avendale District. If you live anywhere near London, do get in touch.
We promised some new things from Ordinator Central and actually this was one of them. We now have the ability to freeze films and take out high-quality stills like this one; and with a little work from our Technical and Design departments we have our first Aristasian wallpaper.
Except for Annya, of course. I wonder if she can be persuaded to tell.
With all these houseproud Aristasians designing Art Neo Castles and what-not, we thought it might be nice to redecorate our ordinators — so, for the first time ever, we are offering a new Aristasian Wallpaper for your Elektraspaceships.
And what a wallpaper it is! Our first ever wallpaper is dedicated to that thrillingly formidable creature, the Aristasian Brunette.
And if you like it, just point your mousey over it, right-click and select "set as wallpaper" or "set as background" and you'll have the excitingest-looking ordinator outside Novaria.
Or inside it for that matter.
So don't say we never give you anything!
The Blonde Management
My Darling Pettes,
I am sorry to have neglected you for so long. I have been a more than usually busy brunette, and have also been on holiday for a few, glorious days. But now I am back and simply longing to catch up with all of you.
I have been receiving various miserable missives from my little sister, and I am sure she is exaggerating the "hardships" (no pun intended!) of her Naval Academy. So don't start pitying her any of you, remember she is there for a reason! I was even beginning to feel quite sorry for her myself, until I read her posting alluding to the so-called "imbibing inclinations" of family members, which, for my part, I feel compelled to straighten out.
I must say as the eldest sibling, at seventeen, and a designated school monitor. I believe It is perfectly seemly for a sophisticated, young brunette such as myself, to take a healthy interest in the civilised pursuits any Aristasian girl can expect to partake of. In my opinion the making and consuming of high-quality cocktails and fine port wines, is only to be expected in mature company, and for such an activity to be misrepresented by a member of my own family, is not only disappointing, but a disciplinary offence, I should say.
When the sibling in question returns to our humble, Kadorian abode during her spring holiday, I shall be broaching the subject in the most clear terms. Be warned, young Miss.
In the meantime I thought, on that subject, that it seems jolly funny that we have a cocktail bar with jolly well NO cocktails! So I though it only appropriate to instigate a jinky, new feature, "COCKTAIL OF THE WEEK!"
I shall be starting with one taken from a lovely, little
up-to-date cocktail book an equally lovely, little blonde gave to me.
This particular one is dedicated to my charming younger sister.
Chin Chin, Eve and Bon Voyage!
Deep Sea Cocktail
1/4 gill of Dry Gin
1/4 gill of French Vermouth
1/2 Teaspoon of Absinthe
1/2 teaspoonful of orange bitters
(this could be left out if, for example one is allergic to oranges)
1 dash of Lemon Peel Juice
1/2 Shakerful of Ice Chips
(I've heard of Ice-cream, but Ice chips?!.....with ketchup?!)
The Shaker is half filled with ice chips and the Dry Gin added. Then add the French Vermouth , the Absinthe and the Orange Bitters. Shake well and pass through a strainer into a small wine glass. Serve with an olive and a dash of lemon peel juice on top.
This cocktail is of medium strength.
I hope some of you adventurous, older pettes might try your hand at this one. I shall be choosing a recipe each week that seems appropriate to that particular week, and the pettes in the bar. (I have various sources for jolly recipes. I am also in the process of trying to procure an up-to-date edition of the classic "Savoy Cocktail Book" in Elektraspace, which will be the prime feature of my little collection.) So look out for future delectable concoctions!
In addition I believe someone suggested that the Editress might consider reinstating the notification of which music is being played in the bar from time to time, as was custom in the old cocktail bar. This seems a jolly jinky idea too, and perhaps the music could somehow tie-in with the cocktail of the week on occasions, and compliment each other to really get the atmosphere going!
I suppose I am getting carried away with myself! I do become enthused about such things!
I don't wish to be demanding, I just SO love visiting the bar, and want to offer ideas for it to be as interesting and as much fun as possible for all visiting Pettes.
I am sure with "Ordinator Central" now installed the clever, Blonde Management have all sorts of jolly tricks up their frilly sleeves!
I shall say Cheerio, and "Cheers!" for now.
Glad to be back,
Miss B* XXXXXXXX
I was interested to see Miss S's contribution of a week or so ago.
I too think uniforms most becoming to a brunette — and to a blonde in a slightly different way — but her example left me, I fear, just a touch cold.
All this Kadorian khaki and fustian functionality is a little pedestrian for my taste. If one must wear a uniform, make it a uniform, say I.
But it's no good just talking. Let me show you what I mean. Here is a hereditary General from West Arcadia. Now that, ladies, is a uniform, I think you will agree.
Marshall Uralya Ludn.
Royal Novarian Air-Lancers
Hello Pettes, I think it really is about time I introduced myself. My name is Beth and I am in the same class as Margueritte, Annya and Rebecca. Sometimes Eve comes to school too, although I don't suppose we shall see her now that she has been shipped off to the Navy.
Doesn't the Navy sound absolutely frightful, Pettes? I just can't bear netball, and squealing, not to mention running in the opposite direction, is really the only thing to do if someone throws a horrid ball at you! Still, I'm sure it will suit Eve. At least I shan't have to put up with her tickling me and poking me in the back with a ruler when I really am trying my best to be good in class!
I love the picture of the exotic dancer that Margueritte has found. I do hope I look a bit like that when I am dancing! My absolute favourite thing is to dress up in exotic costumes with lots of jangling beads and coins and shimmy about. My brunette Mummy says I shouldn't be encouraged, but I don't think she minds too much really! Anyway, it will be ever so jolly if new girls come to our class at school - I can teach you all to shimmy during break!
Bye-bye for now,
Shipped off to the navy! Was that a deliberate pun or a Freudian ship?
Pettes, one and all.
You find me a slightly crestfallen and somewhat soggy brunette. My training continues and what a rum old time it's been (without any rum, I hasten to add!)
We have been out this week in small dinghies on the Novarian coast. It has been jolly windy and cold, and I have capsized more times than I would care to remember. We are supposed to be developing our basic Seagirlship skills, but many of us have never been for so much as a paddle before, let alone steered a vessel of any kind. (I know the only vessels steered in my household were glass vessels steered skillfully towards lips! - not to cast any aspersions on the imbibing inclinations of any members of my family, of course!)
On the bright side, we had to take a partner, and work as pairs in these small boats so I snapped up my little blondie, whom I have been sitting with at supper, and getting on jolly nicely with, Thank-You-Very-Much!
It turns out her name is Sophie Sanderson (or Thophie Thanderthon, as she will introduce herself as, Ahh! it's just TOO perfect!)
Some of the rougher brunettes, of which I do not consider myself to be one, I must say, have begun to be ever so slightly beastly to my little darling. They have started calling her "Softie Sanderson", or just"Thoftie". She is So painfully blonde, and this has been rather conspicuous, particularly in some of our physical training activities. Notably during netball, when she squealed and dropped the ball whenever it was thrown in her direction, which it swiftly ceased to be once this habit became apparent. However, Miss Cadwaller one of our gymnastics and physical training instructresses, said that Sophie had to quickly toughen up, and strive to improve her "hand-eye coordination", or she threatened she may have to practice her "hand-thigh coordination" To which many of the group howled with laughter, and I must say, even though I feel for the dear one, prompted some mild tittering in myself.
Miss Cadwaller seems on the whole a jolly good sort, prone to that kind of wit. A firm but fair, no nonsense Blonde. They say she has a good heart, but an even better aim, should you incur her particular wrath. Which I am glad to say, I have not. Although, in my favour I am a fairly sterling netballer if one says so oneself! Which she seems to give credit for. I'm hoping to make the team.
Anyway, It looks like I may have to sign off soon, as I
am writing this to you in the library, and the Librarian, Miss Nonnington-Joans
(a shy-ish blonde, with a detectable twinkle in the eye, I'd say!) has just
been blethering about closing the library, and "You must have prep to
do, young Miss" etc. So, I'd better quieten the old girl up, before she
gives herself the vapours.
I should just have time to say a quick how-do-you-do to dear, little Zoë. Thank You for your message, oh delicate one. How is the old breathing these days? In and out, in and out, that's the trick, my girl! I hope you enjoy reading this episode of my Naughty-cal tales.....I am sure there will be many more adventures to report ere long.
But for now, I remain your reluctant maid of the Sea.
Oops! Sorry for the slight pause in Girls' Town activity. Technicals again, but this time highly favourable ones. We are in the process of moving operations to Ordinator Central — a huge room brimming with technical marvels and humming with that curious sound which is only produced by the subtle mixture of electricity and magic. You don't hear it much outside Aristasia; but listen carefully and you may even hear a little of it coming through your own ordinator from Ordinator Central.
At this moment of writing, the transition is incomplete, but as we move wholly over to Ordinator Central we shall be able to bring you more exciting pictures, sounds and other jolly surprises than ever before.
Stay tuned to Girls' Town, where everything happens.
The Blonde Management
I am a brunette. My domicile is Trent. My dear Karen, the concept of 'real' is rather different for Aristasians. We create our own reality, above and beyond that which exists on the physical plane. We live and breathe Aristasian air, which allows us to transcend the inversion and chaos of the Pit. Reality is what we choose to make it.
I was delighted to see the new Letterbox, but I have two questions:
1) there seems to be a monogram C VII I on each side of the post box. What does that mean?
2) are these real letters from real people?
Love to all,
To answer your questions the wrong way round:
2) Yes they are from real people in Avendale District. Miss Wardelle is the headmistress of Avenbridge School which girls near London may attend (write to us if you wish to join), Mme Perez is the French mistress and Blonde X is — well, perhaps blonde X had best remain anonymous. We shall explain a little more about the workings of the Letterbox shortly.
1) The Letterbox bar is based on an Aristasian Imperial mail pillar box. These carry the monogram of the Empress Celestia the Seventh. C.I. stands for Celestia Imperatrix.
Tigrou is back in force today. Not only have we Part 3 of The Adventures of Tigrou, but a new story set in Nymphasia — a sort of Faerie Aristasia inhabited by aetherial girls who some people may vaguely recognise. Pop along to read Tigrou in Nymphasia.
The Blonde Management
Dear Madame Perez,
I read your latest letter just a few moments ago and feel I must respond to it immediately. You seem to be considering which of two forms of punishment would be appropriate for 'Blonde X'. I should say that I intended not to present alternatives but to suggest a two part punishment made up of both a good corporal chastisement and a detention. This girl is old enough to know better than to present such sloppy work to a mistress at Avenbridge and ought to be made to realise just how irresponsible and disrespectful she has been.
Having clarified that point, I shall return to my own preparation for the coming school week.
Miss J. Wardelle
Dear Miss Wardelle,
I was pleased to receive your letter regarding the problems I have experienced with our young blonde friend. I am considering the manner in which I will deal with her. I rather favour the idea of a good strapping. However, the tedium of a long detention is also very good for the soul and often has the desired effect of preventing any repetition of such laziness. I will consider both options.
I have noticed a letter from young Zoë, who found my subject extremely difficult. I should like those who do not know this young lady personally to guard against forming any impressions of me, based on Zoë's comments. She is at an age, where her studies are of little importance to her. (Indeed, I wonder if they will ever be of much relevance in her life.) Zoë was unfortunately unable to continue her studies in this area of the curriculum, as her mind did not seem to contain the elements necessary for the study of a European language. It has always been one of my deepest regrets that I was forced to isolate her for this lesson.
I have dedicated my whole life to the teaching of French at Avenbridge School. I am passionate about the continuing intellectual development of my pupils. I should like Miss Wardelle to be aware that I have never 'shouted' at anyone in my class, as I prefer an atmosphere of tranquiltity and harmony when pursuing the path of learning. I must admit to being a little offended by Zoë's comments.
Thank you for your help, Miss Wardelle. I will turn to you if my means of punishing the errant pupil prove to be ineffective. I will now return to my marking and preparation.
It sounds so exciting at your new naval thingumibob. I am a blonde called Zoë and I could never do anything like that. I am fifteen and I suffer from hyper ventilation when I am under strain of any kind. Miss Serelique says that I am only pretending. I always seem to get it when she is waving a paddle. She says I am very naughty, but it's not true. I think it is Diana's fault, as she always makes me laugh in Miss Serelique's diction class.
Anyway, I think you are very brave. I wish you lots of luck. What is the name of your new blonde friend? She sounds very nice. I can't swim either.
I like shoes and fur coats and pretty dresses best. My hobby is drawing and reading books if they are not too difficult. Miss Serelique does not think I am very clever, but I think that she is jealous because I am pretty. I love Katherine Hepburn and I watch her films. I also like trying out different lipsticks and doing my hair. Sometimes I wear it up and sometimes I make it very curly with some rag things that Annya gave me.Miss Serelique says that my diction is quite good, but that I need to concentrate more in class. I hate arithmetic and French. I have been been given permission to miss the French lessons, because Miss Wardelle thinks that I find them rather 'an uphill struggle.' I'm very pleased about the matter, because I couldn't do the homework and Madame Perez kept shouting at me. She is not a very nice blonde mistress, but she is quite pretty. She wears nice fur stoles and her make up is nice. Miss Wardell puts me in a different room during French and gives me colouring to do. Do you like colouring?
Thinking of you sailing in the deep blue sea,
Re: French Lessons
Dear Madame Perez,
Thank you for your letter. I must confess to being slightly surprised by the comments you have made in relation to the standard of homework presented to you by this particular blonde. I will tolerate a degree of high-spiritedness in a young pupil but this girl is, I believe, on the verge of progressing to the upper school and so ought clearly to have ceased such frivilous and careless behaviour in relation to her academic work.
If I might make a suggestion based upon my close knowledge of the girl in question. By all means punish her quite soundly in your next class. If a mistress is dissatisfied with a pupil's work it is both her privilege and duty to punish the girl corporally. Should you need specific advice in the area of the proper discipline of young ladies, please do not hesitate to ask me.
However, if carelessness, a lack of attention to detail and poor handwriting were the primary faults about which you have been concerned, I suggest you have her attend a detention with yourself or you could send her to a Prefect's Detention. You may instruct young Devina Crisp (a Prefect of the Upper Seventh) in what you would like the errant girl to do and it will be Devina's duty to ensure that it is done. Personally, I should probably have the child make two or three fair copies of the original homework piece but that is, once again, at your discretion.
Furthermore, I should like to know how the girl reacts to her punishments and, if she does not accept them in the proper manner, I intend to see her myself.
I will not tolerate this sort of slackness at Avenbridge and I do very much appreciate your support in maintaining the high standards I have come to expect from both mistresses and pupils.
Miss J. Wardelle
Well here I am, unpacked and trying to settle into the Naval training Academy, in deepest Novaria. I must say I have never really spent any time in Novaria, I have only passed through to purchase some light games on my way to Quirinelle, and it is rather an odd place I'd say. Not odd in an unpleasant way, but really quite unlike South-Eastern Kadoria where my little clan hail from.
It does seem like a jolly long way from home, and already I am beginning, strangely to miss the old family; even my sometimes stuffy, serious sister. I don't know a soul here, and I must say I have spotted a couple of venerable old Guvvie-types marching about, brandishing some fearsome looking implements. I say, I wouldn't wish to be on the receiving end of any of those!
On the whole this place seems like a crashing bore! I was given a timetable of events on arrival, and it is nothing but early rising, stimulating physical exercise, and classes, classes, classes.....We even have to take it in turns to do some work in the kitchens.....Quelle horreur! I haven't been in a kitchen since our maid dropped an entire tray of aperitifs, and I had to go in and chastise her (well, at least, inform her that my Mummie would be along shortly to chastise her.) There were some glowing thighs that evening, I can tell you!....Ahh, happy days.
I can't think what I have really done to deserve being in a stuffy old place like this.....I think it is jolly unfair of my Mummie (and Goody two shoes Berecca) to ship me off like this. Although, I suppose my Mummie is wise, and knows what is best for me. She says I must be an obedient brunette, and not bring ignominy to the Beaumarsh name. So I suppose I shall have to just get on with it, and avoid those ferocious Officers and their slim, wooden friends!
On the bright side anyhow, I saw some super, softy blondes in the registration queue, and chatterated to one adorable, little pette (complete with lisp! bleth her!), who rather dolefully informed me she was an awfully good girl really, who had no desire to be at the rotten old Naval Academy, and couldn't even swim! (thwim!) I assured her I am a jolly strong swimmer, and have very steadfast, brunette arms, that could rescue her from the waves at any time necessary. She seemed heartened by this, and I realised she reminded me of the silly, cutie blonde in this picture! which made me laugh terribly, until the registration clerk shouted at me, and gave me an order mark. She said it wasn't a terribly good start, but a Pette's got to have fun sometimes, hasn't she?
I must go now, as the supper bell is ringing.
Hello again Pettes, I expect most of you remember me - I
am Margueritte (but my friends call me Em, like Auntie Em in 'The Wizard of
Oz' - although what she was doing in Australia is a mystery to me). But anyway,
back to the point.....feeling bereft on the verge of the imminent departure
of my darling classmate, Eve, I decided to roam aimlessly around Elektraspace
to see what I could see. Well, I can tell you there really are some things
to see there too!
I thought perhaps I could share this little one with you. Since poor old Eve is being sent to the reformatory, all I shall have to do at school is watch Bethy-boo wiggling her bits and pieces about! Oh it's all perfectly legitimate and everything. You see blonde old Beth likes nothing better than to don her bells and scarves and give us a quick rendition of the Seven Veils thingy - and very good she is too! At times like that one is so very happy to have been born brunette!
Speaking of this wiggle dancing, has anyone seen the film called "Salome"? We didn't see all of it but I know what happens in the end because I've read the book so that's just dandy. But, I am told it is really good really and I ought to see it. Anyway, there's supposed to be some belly dancing in it that is worth looking at - if you like that sort of thing. Or else you could just come to school and see Bethy-boo do it in person!
Three cheers for school...hip, hip...Hoorah! (etc).
Love and wiggles,
Re: French Lessons
Dear Miss Wardelle,
Recently, I set a piece of homework for the class, which consisted of a number of simple grammatical exercises on direct and indirect object pronouns. The task was completed with care by most pupils. Sadly however, one pupil presented me with a piece of work, which was absolutely abominable.Not only did it contain many errors of agreement and spelling, but the handwriting was for the most part illegible! I was sorely disappointed, particularly as I have given the young blonde in question several private lessons in the past.
As you are aware, much time and effort is invested in the preparation of my lessons and the correction of pupils' work. I do not expect to be rewarded for my labours by such a slovenly approach.
At this stage, I will be kind enough not to mention any names. I shall be dealing with the matter of punishment next lesson. However, should such a thing occur again, I will ask you as the Head Mistress to become involved.
Standards must not slip. Avenbridge must remain a centre of excellence.
I remain as committed as ever to the cause of raising standards.
To the distinguished Flight Sergeant Mikstin,
I do appreciate your efforts to recruit one for the jolly old Flying Corps. Old Girl, and what an advertisement your poster Maid is, by jingo!
However, I have already answered the call of the sea, I'm afraid. It seems I am due to depart forthwith, to begin the torturous training (quelle bore!) My Sister seems to be making an awful fuss to help me pack- she's an odd fish, that girl.
I can't say I'm entirely dreading it though, apparently they also send wayward blondes to this establishment, so I'm sure one shall be able to amuse oneself, some old how!
Do not fear all you Girlstownies who may miss little old me however, I shall not be entirely incommunicado, but will be keeping you all informed in a serialised diary " Eve's Naughty-cal Adventures!"
Look out for the first exciting installment A.S.A.P!
Pip Pip, There She blows!
If blue is your colour, young Eve, you could do very much worse than to join the Imperial Flying Corps.
How can you even think about the Navy? I have heard that salt water spray does simply dreadful things to your hair, whereas the ladies and officers of the Flying Corps never go out without an appropriate hat. (Worn on the head at a carefully measured angle and absolutely never juggled with on the feet - such an unladylike position! I do hope it is not you in the picture, darling.)
Now come along Eve dear, don't take your older sister too lightly. Miss Rebecca can be quite firm when she sets her mind to it and I should much prefer to think of you soaring to the top than just being sore in the bottom!
Must fly...(believe it or not, that really was an accidental pun),
Flight Sergeant J.E. Mikstin,
Imperial Flying Corps (Retired)
I must write and thank Miss S for her wise suggestion of a bout of military training and service for little old me!
It looks as though my elder sister is seriously looking into
packing me away to some sort of strict academy.....I don't know about the
army though.....green has never been my colour, old bean.
I say, what about the navy?
Swab the decks! Blonde ahoy!
What with all the upheavals going on in the District it has taken us a little longer than it should have to post the latest episode of Tigrou's adventures in her strict aristasian household.
The Blonde Management
Hello there Danyelle,
It is Miss Rebecca Beaumarsh here, I am a brunette in Aristasia-in-Telluria, and a pupil of Avenbridge School, in Avendale district (on the periphery of yukky pit London.) I thought I would try and write a few words of encouragement for you, as you do sound rather at sea over in Telluria-America, you poor darling pette.
Strangely enough, I was over in North Carolina but a few months ago. If only I had known you were there, I could have rescued you! (or at least met you for a cup of tea and a good old chat!) Anyway, it is fortuitous that you have found us here in elektraspace, and we must pull together to make you welcome, and try to help in any way we can. If you are finishing your High School studies you must be a jolly grown-up young lady. Do you know if you are blonde or brunette?
Aristasia is always very welcoming for the right sort of girl. Have you read any Aristasian publications? I would firmly reccomend Children of the Void By Miss Regina Snow which I am currently reading for a second time. It presents many Aristasian principles and ideas in an entertaining and easy-to-read way. (It is available to buy by contacting the Editress, I believe). If you are yearning for something more weighty to get your teeth into, I would suggest The Feminine Universe By Alice Lucy Trent. The Subtitle is "An Exposition of the Ancient Wisdom from the Primordial Feminine Perspective" just to give you an idea of what to expect! It is not the easiest of reads, but it is fundamental to the understanding of Aristasian Philosophy, and any girl truly serious about her involvement in Aristasia simply must absorb it and ask questions, in order to form a foundation of spiritual understanding within their Aristasian life.
I will sign off for the moment, and leave you with some things to think about, I hope.
I admire your enthusiasm and sense of purpose in wishing to learn, and become more involved in Aristasia. You must remember however, that it can take time to fully absorb the wealth of Aristasian ideas and philosophy. It is not just a way of behaving or dressing for example, It can be a full and enriching way of life, very different from the life you may have experienced in the pit.
I am sure, in the longer term if you wished to come over and visit, or even live near the Aristasian colonies it could be possible. In the meantime, remember we are always here in elektraspace.
Also, do consider for the time being, that it may be possible to create for yourself a haven of "realness" within your current household. Even if it is just in your own room (providing you do not share a room). You can begin to make your surroundings and lifestyle Aristasian as some respite from the pit. This is what I have done, and coming home to up-to-date music, pictures of my favourite blonde and brunette actresses on my walls (!), and a civilised cup of tea in a real, pretty cup and saucer makes all the difference to blot out the ugliness outside the walls.
I must dash now, this has become an epic!
I do hope it helps.
Miss B* X
As an Estrenne who follows the Old Ways and the Old Calendar of Amazonia, I wish to remind you that the Embassy moved on the first day of Moura. (Moura is the equivalent of the Tellurian Lent). As one trained from birth, as all Estrennes are, to 'read' the meaning of apparent coincidences, may I make so bold as to suggest how to best reap good werde from this timing. The month of Moura is a time of purification and preparation for the Death and Resurrection of our Lady Inanna, Queen of Heaven and Daughter of the Mother of All. We purify our souls with acts of love and sacrifice to our Lady, and with a pattern of fasts and denying ourselves meat and alcohol. (Westrennes are not genersally expected to be as exacting in their disciplines as the hardier Estrennes are)
As you have moved physically on the first day of this important 13th month of the lunar year, you are clearly expected to perform a function in the magical establishment of the New Embassy. I think the meaning is that you are supposed to purify the new Castle of its previous Tellurian inhabitants and prepare it for the New Year in Aristasia. To prepare it for the New Year is also to prepare for the New order that will flourish here.
This year there is a two day Hiatus -- the twilight between the old year cycle and the new. The new year begins with Inanna's Resurrection on the 1st of Culverine which is the Spring Equinox (or the 21st of March in the Tellurian calendar).
The first day of Culverine falls on a Sunday, the Day of Sai Raya. Her virtue of generosity rules each Sunday in a week, but falling on the first day She rules the whole coming year. As Sai Raya is the giver of all life with the warmth of Her rays, She also signifies expansiveness, so it is a good omen for the New Colony to begin in earnest after a month of purification and preparation for the joy of Sai Raya's year to enter into your new home and Embassy.
Let me end with some words from the Amazonian Scriptures. As our Lady is tormented by the demons in the wilderness, after having taken upon Herself to separate from Her Mother in order to find and redeem all those souls who have turned from the Mother, She cries out these words as they tempt Her.
12.That which is right in the deepest heart of things and in the centre of all being, that is right and none other; and the Truth alone is true. 13. Nor shall all the powers of the earth count against it, neither all the powers of the seas and the skies move it by the smallest fraction in all its vastness. 14. I shall obey none but my Mother, though all your power be turned in fury upon me.
—Tellurian Edition: 20th February—
The establishment of the Celestial Empire of Aristasia "on the ground" in Telluria is making significant steps forward with the establishment of a new Colony just outside London.
The Aristasian Embassy is being moved to the new Colony. Today, as this reporter stood in the famous drawing-room-cum-common-room-cum-kinema, the mock-Corinthian columns of the hearthside arches seemed surrounded by an echoing void. Most of the furniture is now gone, and "Marlene", the striking Goldschneider head that stood above the fireplace — familiar both to Aristasians of the Avenbridge and former Maryhill Districts, as well as to many viewers of Tellurian television programmes — is now wrapped up ready for transportation. She is much heavier than one would have guessed!
The classroom is now empty and the blackboard is being unscrewed from the wall. No doubt this place which has been the scene, over the past two years, of high jinks, discipline and much serious Aristasian education will shortly return to being a suburban bedroom somewhere in the anonymity of the Pit.
Meanwhile the Castle beckons some ten miles away — a dark building on the outside with narrow slits for windows, but on the inside, great windows open upon an inner courtyard. All this upon a miniature scale, but symbolising perfectly the outer protection and inner enclosure of the Aristasian Hestia. Inside, the building is a blank canvas upon which will be painted, in swift, delicate strokes, the philosophic doctrine of the New Aesthetic.
The Aristasian Ambassadress to Telluria, lhi Conitessa lia Marenkhela, said: "This is an important period in the development of Aristasia-in-Telluria. New District officers have already been appointed and the re-establishment of Aristasian currency in Telluria is under way. After a difficult period, progress is now being made on many fronts at once. A new day is dawning for the Empire in Telluria."
This is a special message for the ladies of the Aristasian household who will be moving to a lovely, new castle very soon.
I wish you all the very best in your new home, and I look forward very much to visiting, and attending school and the cinema, and drinks, and meals and discussions .....and lots of fun! I do hope some new Aristasian girls will also be welcomed there this year.
I do hope you will be very happy in C.M ( Castle Mushroom!)
I enclose this sweet picture, especially for a certain, little blonde! It is the dancing mushrooms from Disney's Fantasia (from Kadoria) I hope you enjoy them, and your new abode.
With Much Love, to Miss A and Miss J,
From Miss B* XXXXXXXX
The move is very exciting, not only from a personal point of view, but also for the development of Aristasia-in-Telluria. We have had a charming brunette reporter from The Morning Letter ringing us and asking if she might "cover" (as these journalists put it) the March of the Embassy to Castle Mushroom. I cannot think that all this packing and moving will see us at our most dignified — but still, The Morning Letter is a very reputable paper, in fact the most reputable in the Empire: rather like the Tellurian Times before the Eclipse. So make sure you come here tomorrow to get your copy of The Morning Letter and read all about the Move to Castle Mushroom.
Oh dear — I am starting to sound like one of those newspaper-girls on the streets of Ladyton, aren't I?
I live in Western North Carolina, ****** County, an abominable little place called ***** [details deleted for security — Editress].
I may be able to come over as a student, providing, of course, if I could get into a school over there. I'm graduating from high school in this June, and after that it's on my own and to do what I want. However, I'm very lost as to 'what I want' is. To disappear into Aristasia would be lovely, but as that is not quite an option for me, Aristasia-in-Telluria is as close as I can get. One of the majors I've been considering pursuing, along with Film Studies, is Creative Writing. I'm a writer at heart, perhaps I could serve some purpose? To entertain my fellow Aristasians, perhaps even make more people away of the necessity of secession, the beauty of the Celestial Empire?
Oh... now I feel silly for considering it, but I want to do something. I want to be involved somehow, and it is disheartening to (at least seemingly) be so far away from the rest of my kindred in Aristasia. All I ask is the slimmest of ideas, the slightest of chances to escape the horror of the Pit.
I thank you all for just reading. To know that somewhere out there knows my thoughts makes things easier to bear, in the end.
Of course, you'll need to discuss things more with girls from the District here — since you can't just pop over for an interview like most of our new girls! However, if you want to come over we have girls here who can help you get into a college or University here — and you'll be getting into the Aristasian education system too, of course.
Creative writers are always wanted in Aristasia. How about something jinky for this site?
— Tellurian Edition: 16th February —
Today, The Morning Letter brings you the story of an Estrenne warrior who found herself stranded in Telluria
My name is Malinka. I am a soldier-maid, a warrior from Far Eastern Amazonia. I am lucky enough to serve in the Rayin's, that is, Queen's, very own Guard and for many years I was honoured to be always at her side, serving her faithfully, fighting many battles.
But there came a dark day when I was wrested from her and I floated in a limbo near tall, forbidding buildings, strange noisy machines and grey overcast skies. I was born a child, and in a land such as I never knew. I was bewildered and frightened. As I grew older and came to consciousness I saw I was in a Godless land where everything was askew and no-one lived by ritual or beauty or poetry or magic. How my heart ached! I felt completely abandoned and everything was meaningless.
But praise be to Dea, and to Her handmaiden the glorious Vikhe, goddess of warriors! One day I was called to a small band of other warriors and I looked in their eyes and they looked in mine and we knew each other. I had found my compatriots and I was alone no longer and we built ourselves the land of Aristasia apart from and yet accessible from the strange land you know as the Pit.
I lived many years among the maidens and in their provinces, though sadly we were mostly in the West near Vintesse and Quirinelle. Some of us particularly liked Novaria because it reminded us of home with its Eastern flavouring. But I always was a maid of habit and I missed the wildness and the passion - the dancing, the battles, the songs and ale by the campfires on windswept battlefields.
I fought in, and even led, many magical campaigns against the Demons of Darkness who thronged in the strange land outside and beneath our Provinces, who often attacked us. I fought the battles successfully, but I yearned for my very own Province, for the land of my heart, and I yearned for lost maidens, some soldier-maids, some the healing sisters that tend the wounded, yearned for eyes I had not found among the maidens of Aristasia.
So one day I went on a mission, away from Aristasia, away from the safety I had known there, away from my friends and fellow-warriors and into the ravaged plains of the Pit. It was a lonely journey, and sometimes I felt faint and unsure of my mission. But I felt Dea's hand upon my shoulders, and Vikhe's songs at my lips and I sang the warrior song called "The Iron Ring" as I journeyed. And it was this, this song, that led me to a broken warrior, who was mending and who needed my help. But more of this another time.
of the House of Colwyn
I think Takarazuka has been mentioned earlier in our venerable archives, but you can't expect a silly blondie to go looking it up!
Howsoever, I am quite sure we did not give it such gorgeous pictorial coverage as Miss Eve Taganov has recently done at her charmingly eclectic Belladonna site which also plays host to the super-venerable and utterly ancient Older Cocktail Bar Archives, of which there are several million — well, quite a lot, anyway — going back to the Early Middle Ages — well, quite a long way, anyway.
Takarazuka is a beautiful Japanese musical revue showing both Estrenne dramas and Westrenne shows such as West Side Story (you can't get much Wester than that), with all parts played by girls. It is probably the most perfect theatrical expression of the blonde-brunette sensibility outside Aristasia Pura.
The Belladonna site is hosting gorgeous picture galleries of Takarazuka blondes, Takarazuka brunettes, Takarazuka couples and many other delights.
If you go to only one exhibition this year, you must go to this one — and it's entirely free and only as far away as an Elektraspatial click.
Oh — and for those of you who are asking (and I know you are asking) why there are no Blonde-Brunette theatricals in Aristasia-in-Telluria; just keep your pretty hats on: Avenbridge District is working on it and the new Castle Mushroom may see the first Aristasian theatrical performances in Telluria for seven years. We may even have some wireless dramas available for you-all to hear (whoops! that you-all can be catching, can't it?)
In the meantime go to The Takarazuka Revue at Belladonna. You won't be disappointed!
The Blonde Management
I'm going to try not to stumble over my words, though I usually do (even, or perhaps especially, in print). It's terribly frustrating being shy, but I'm going to try and work through it anyway. I am very much interested in attending an Aristasian event, but I'm currently stranded in Pit America, one of the worst areas, in fact. It seems as though I am the only girl with even the slightest Aristasian leaning for miles!
That in itself is as frustrating as my being shy. I would like to not only attend an event, but to be immersed completely and permanently, which is why I wanted to ask if there was a sort of hacienda, if you will, any place that would be willing to house a rather homeless girl in need of a real home. I've been reading about the 'colonies' and 'districts' being set up, and it makes me feel even more alone out here, and I've been pondering the move for some time.
My issue, however, lies in the getting on my feet portion of that move, finding a house and a job. So, my good lady/ies, is there anyone who would be willing to give me some advice about relocating to a bit of Aristasia?
This is a tricky question, dear Danyelle. Even in Pit-England this new initiative of setting up colonies is somewhat in its infancy; but if you were in England I should advise you to get involved with the events that are happening, meet other Aristasians and it might well be possible for you to become involved in a household. In Pit-America the founding of Aristasian colonies has not yet started, although there are good Aristasians there. Part of the problem is that America is such a big place. In England no one is really very far from London (even though people sometimes think they are). In Pit-America one can be many hundreds of miles from one's nearest Aristasian "neighbour".
If you were in Pit-England — or could come here — I should advise you first to get to know us a little and then to get a place in our colony-town where rents and property are relatively cheap. I know the girls here would help you with all the practicalities and it might well be possible to share with another Aristasian girl or girls.
What part of Pit-America are you in, Danyelle? Can any one in that country give Danyelle some advice? Or would it be possible for you to come to Pit-England for a time, perhaps as a student or something. One of our local girls is very au fait with the academic world and could advise you about this if you wish.
Any other thoughts any one? Do let us know.
Darlings, how perfectly scrumptious it is for me to have found you in Elektraspace again! Life has certainly been much duller during your absence.
I read with interest that Miss Brown continues to have difficulty with her unruly sister Eve. I once met the young lady in question myself. On that occasion she did appear rather sulky and discontented with her dear little self. Well, Miss B, please do not despair of the young scamp. I myself had a niece who was prone to frequent bouts of what I call 'pit fever'. This is a disease that has a veritable plethora of symptoms that manifest in different ways in different girls. My niece was often withdrawn, sometimes existing on the verge of deep depression for days on end, sometimes tempestuous in her angry outbursts at the slightest provocation, and utterly unreceptive of any guidance or assistance offered by her elders and betters. Outrageous behaviour in an Aristasian girl!
Nevertheless, the solution presented itself to us in the nick of time - she was sent for a term of military training and service. The strict discipline and regimented life combined with a new sense of purpose and pride in herself (not to mention being allowed to wear such a ravishing uniform every day of the week!) soon set her straight.
You might have thought that the military services were harsh organisations suitable for only rough brunettes - not so, my dear! My blonde niece has flourished and improved beyond measure. Perhaps we shall hear of Private Eve Brown's conscription quite soon? Well think about it anyway. I am quite certain some of your friends would like to see pictures of your little sibling in her uniform!
Ta ta till next time, girls.
Miss S x
Ulp! You didn't have any other blondes in mind for this "cure", did you, Miss S?
Well, while it's fresh in your minds, I thought I'd add another jolly book cover, dedicated to my younger sister Eve this time! Any of you Avendale pupils (or Mistresses!) who have had the good fortune to meet this delightful young lady (cough cough!) may see why it is appropriate! I must explain, she is a rather lively, robust brunette whom I have had some difficulty in disciplining. Perhaps I should send her back to Avendale to become reaccquainted with the venerable Misses Serelique and Wardelle. Are you listening, my girl?!
Isn't it amazing how many different characters can be found within one Aristasian family? Brunettes and blondes, older and younger, sensible ladies, and those down right silly girls! (not to mention any names, of course!) It is a constant source of wonder for me to note the personae within myself and other girls, and the promise that a new family memeber could appear unexpectedly at any time. I have a suspicsion that there are some hitherto undiscovered ladies lurking in my family, but like all good things, they will visit when the time is just right.
I hope all you lovely ladies who Girlstown have discovered some personae within yourselves, or at the very least have asked yourself whether you are a blonde or a brunette? The old ribbon test out to crack it, if you're not sure! "What's the ribbon test?" I hear you cry! Well, you can look in the Girlstown archives for a previous discussion on this matter. Or I'll keep you guessing until next time!
With much Love and fond regards,
Miss B* X
Forthe benefit of newer readers, we should explain that the members of "one Aristasian family" may often share the same body. Perhaps we need to have a special feature on Aristasian personae to help explan this complex but delightful phenommer.
Hello My lovely ladies,
Whilst taking a gentle stroll in Elektraspace, I found references to several of Miss Angela Brazil's wonderful school novels — with examples of their lovely covers. I hope to share more of them with you in due course, but I thought I'd start with this one, as I have an older sister of the same name, who was born, and lives in Vintesse. Pip Pip, Kitty I hope you enjoy this!
Unfortunately these marvelous stories have been out of print for quite some time, but one can occasionally find up-to-date, second-hand copies in the right shops, and also in Elektraspace- but it is worth looking around to note variations in prices, as some naughty booksellers have them at jolly unreasonable prices. Quelle swindle!
Anyway I'm sounding quite brunette with all this talk of bargaining! I'll leave you blondes to admire the pretty cover illustration! and will return soon with a second installment.
Miss B* X
Thank you so much, Miss B! Readers may also be interested to know that some girls associated with the Embassy are thinking of re-publishing some of these delightful books either as facsimile editions or as Talking Books. In the latter case we feel many people would be charmed to hear them read by Aristasians in the Queen's English — the tone in whch they were, so to speak, written.
"Castle Mushroom", a new Aristasian household is about to be founded in a small town not far from London, where another Aristasian household already exists.
While Castle Mushroom is only a pet name for the establishment that is likely to house the new Aristasian Embassy, we have also had the first episode of a diary set in a rather unusual household even by Aristasian standards.
The Morning Letter feels that this is an opportune moment to discuss Aristasian households in Telluria, their styles—both of life and of decor—and the whole idea of Aristasian colonies with the Imperial Ambassadress to Telluria, Lhi Conitessa lia Marenkhela.
Please open your copy of The Morning Letter to read this rare interview, which is at once a new departure in the journalism of Girls' Town and a first opportunity to read about the life and organisation of Aristasia in Tellurian London.
Oh, and in case that wasn't clear enough, you'll find the interview here.
The Blonde Management
We are pleased to announce the beginning of a new series, The Adventures of Tigrou—a real-life report from a rather strict Aristasian household. Pop over here to see part one. Oh, and don't worry—most Aristasian houses aren't as severe as that.
The Blonde Management
Fascinated to see the picture of Lindie broadcasting.
But is she idling on the job? She seems to be reading a newspaper. How shocking when she is a prefect!
Idling on the job? Not at all. She is probably working for one of those bush wireless stations in the wilds of upper Quirridoria whose idea of "wireless news" is reading The Morning Letter into the microphone.
You crafty pettes. I am beginning to realise that all sorts of things are "hidden" on this page. In Lindie's piece "Scene in a different light" there are references to Poe and T.S.Eliot—"Midwinter spring is its own season", is, if I am not mistaken, lifted straight from "Little Gidding" of the Four Quartets.
And if one hovers one's mousey-pointer over the pictures one gets all sorts of captions popping up—some witty, some descriptive and some just—well, I'd have to say odd.
You have to look carefully into Girls' Town to see all that is here.
Odd? Us? Surely not.
I'm just dying to know whose lovely voice is announcing the train to Girls' Town. Please tell!
The voice belongs to none other than our own Miss Annalinde Miralene. Lindie is a prefect at Avenbridge school and sister to Annya. She has also announced wireless programmes (perhaps one day she will make one for Elektraspace—hint, hint). This isn't a very good picture of Lindie to be honest — in fact, to be super-honest, it is not a picture of Lindie at all, but is is not unlike her and gives you the general idea.
To hear her voice just go back to the front page and wait an hour or so for the sound file to load and run. Well, not really an hour or so, but a minute perhaps.
I don't know if there is still snow in the Quirridorian Borderlands, but it is certainly windy enough for the connoisseuriest of wind-fanciers.
I arrived by aeroplane at that charming little landing-strip that they insist on calling Bacall Airport and I was practically blown off my feet as soon as I disembarked from the plane.
My pilot Alinhe said she had the deuce of a job getting the thing down — well, she didn't say "deuce" actually, but there are blondes present, so I shall.
And when we got into Bacall itself, winds were tearing up and down the streets, knocking over dustbins and sending a stray copy of The Morning Letter for a hundred-and-fifty-mile-an-hour ride up Constance Street. Quite a change for that normally august and slow-moving newspaper!
The blondes seemed to have some difficulty with the wind — so there were some compensations for being puffed about oneself like a veritable kite.
Anyway, here is a snapshot of the self arriving at Bacall and giving a new meaning to the phrase "blowing into town".
Lady Dorinda Valentine
— Saturday 31st January —
While snow abates in much of the Nation of Quirinelle, the North East is still a winter wonderland — but if you think it is a white world where time stands still, you are quite wrong.
These two brunettes from the Yvyanne Academy have built a Snow Clock with a real working mechanism.
The neatly-worked numbers certainly make a change from carrot noses and ol