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For tonight, here is my version of a female wizard. (My husband called her “Gwendolf” and the name stuck. My apologies.) None appear anywhere in the series, but it is for Halloween and I thought it would be fun… And it was fun, even if I used up a year’s worth of French Grey pencils, even if the end result is a little boring.
My husband heard me complaining and warns me “You should watch out. You don’t call wizards boring. They’ll transform you into a little toad!” I should not like to be transformed, into a toad or otherwise, and so I added cute little hem designs and dialed down the criticism of the grey. If I was sticking to canon I could have given her a blue hat, but the more I look at it, the more I think, well, she looks kind of cool in her desaturated glory… Actually, playing around with hue/saturation in Photoshop, I can make “Gwendolf the Off-White,” “Gwendolf the Lime Green” oh and you don’t want to see “Gwendolf the Electric Blue,” trust me…
I’m afraid this one is going up a little late tonight, but it’s still the 8th where I am. So far I think I’m doing better than last year in terms of paperdoll consistency.
There’s not much reason to put up the poll today too, but I might as well. Don’t worry, fairy fans, I would place money on them taking the third week, if I was a betting sort of gal…
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It seemed to Aithne like she was the only one of the three who bothered keeping up appearances anymore, the only one with any sense of propriety. The things her sisters wore these days! You couldn’t even blame it on a generation gap, as they were all equally old — no — they had positively lost their pride.
It had come to a head two years ago when Medea came to visit, breezing through her door with a tan and a take-out box full of hen’s teeth. First off, she had insisted on being called Madison. (Madison!) Second, she displayed her new cardigan (did she say it was from the End of the Land? Horrid place, she was sure) with wicked, rebellious delight, stretching out an arm as though she expected Aithne to pet it. Finally, she had laughed at her sister’s new robes, remarking that it looked like she had her grocery list written on her hem and that she was totally stuck in the 1800s. Aithne replied that she very well might be, but it was much better than being stuck as a newt, the truth of which she proceeded to demonstrate. Mehitabel had had to step in (and stepping was something she quite liked since she had discovered thousand-dollar high heels — imagine that, going to your kitchen, instead of having your tea come to you, just for effect) to de-newt Medea, since Aithne refused to do so without an apology, and Medea’s communication skills had been reduced to skittering around and switching her tail.
Aithne had had no contact with Mehitabel or Medea since, after yelling at the both of them that the family art was going to hell in a handbasket, a handbasket filled with pastel cardigans and Italian stilettos. They had left in high dudgeon, but she had been proved right by the grave injuries Medea had sustained attempting a ritual wearing her capris and cardigan one day; one does not, apparently, serve a traditionalist entity in modern styles.
For any of you who follow my paperdollverse, I believe that this set of robes is from a new collection from my wizard-world fashion designer responsible for this set of sunset-colored dress robes and this cool-colored set. Aithne is a witch, but she isn’t technically a part of that universe, so she had to go rather a ways out of her way for it and ended up paying quite dearly for it; she believes Medea got off lightly for insulting it.