Non Flapper 1920s Fashion Novels & Stories

“Umm. There was a woman in a long white shapeless gown, gathered at the neck with lace on the sleeves.” “Chemises frequently returned to fashion off and on in various forms,” Talen grimaced. “Any other details?” “I don’t know…” She said searching her memory for details. “They were all under water, and corpsey. Torn, dirty… Lots of brown colours, and soft of off-white shirts. Not a part of historical fashion that interests me, you know,” she shrugged. “Wrong color palette, and too modest.” “Hmm,” he was thoughtful as he moved forward and wound down the window.

The cut was mermaid with a lace overlay that took away much of the pink color and softened it. The green dress caught her eye though. It was a dark emerald with a deep v-neck and beautiful silver bead work. It reminded Holly of the 1920’s, but in a modern design. It was elegant, yet sexy. She could see herself wearing it and dancing with Nathan. “I’ll try the pink one first,” she said, standing up and taking the dress. Flora directed her to a small room off to the side where she could change. She quickly put on the pink dress and stepped out.

He peered at their tattered clothing, noting the changing styles. He aimed the shaft of light at the next body, stared at the cadaver, and then angled the lamp toward the figure beside it. Jesus Christ. These bodies weren’t from the time of de Montalt and Nottidge, but later, much later. Their clothes were from the 1920s or 30s. The skirts were shorter, the styles similar to those in old movies he’d seen on TV.

Simone gasps as Mark shrugs his shoulders. “Maybe not” he says as the trio walks out of the office to the front doors. “It was a stipulation when I was on the show as a wannabe designer. Those chosen to go through it, none of us are allowed to re-enter. It’s the rule and I had to abide by it.” “Would you have done the flapper dress?” Simone asks as they reach the front door. “I wouldn’t have done the 1920’s to begin with” Mark answers, letting out a long breath. “I would have taken inspiration from Mardi gras or something like that.”

“I mean, it was good, and the effects were pretty amazing. But I have to say the book is always better.” Chris beamed. “Atta girl.” Biting her lower lip, Fiona seemed to recall another memory as she stared down at the book and strolled to the window seat to sit. “For my twenty-fifth birthday, my father threw me a 1920s themed party. There was a big-band, dancing flappers, and loads of champagne. My friends still talk about it. And the Marchesa gown I wore…” Fiona sighed dreamily and held the book to her chest as she stared out the antique glass window in a daze.

If I didn't know any better, I'd figured that Hezekiah thought I smelled something foul in the bag from the look on my face. "What is this, The Great Gatsby?" "If I say yes, will you hurry up and put the shit on?" "No." He glared at me, prompting me to hurry up and put on everything to finish the outfit off. The shoes were a size too small, the stockings barely made it past my thighs and the pearls were making my skin itch. Knowing what kind of attire it was—1920s Party Chic—it made sense why the dress was so loose-fitting. Everything else? Hezekiah could have easily asked for some measurements before getting the outfit.

That was why so many of them dressed in styles that hadn't been popular since before the War Between the States, the poor things. Her eyes kept straying from the page, studying Jake. She wished she could see more of his face, and have another glimpse of those faded-green eyes. Harper's wasn't holding her attention. With a furtive check of her fellow passengers – all still sound asleep, Mrs. Avery's raspy breathing by now having progressed to genuine snores – she sneaked out one of the books from deep in her valise. It fit neatly between the pages of Harper's, so that if anyone happened to wake, they would see her doing nothing more than perusing the articles on whether bustles were more flat

Her legs were wide apart and her maid knelt between them, while another servant leaned across, fingers toying with her mistress’s large bare nipples. Their costumes were typical of the era in which they had been immortalised; mob caps, low necklines, tightly laced corsets pushing breasts high, crested teats protruding over the tops of bodices, flounced petticoats, stockings rolled below the knee and fastened with lacy garters, Louis-heeled shoes with paste buckles. And, most important of all, they were pantiless, this having been an age when it was considered immodest to wear drawers, which were considered male garments.

I just don't want to talk to him just yet. "She's beautiful." Jaxson murmured that caught my attention. “But that screams danger. So, shall we see the next option?” I couldn't help but roll my eyes upwards. I mean, yes he can have an opinion or even choose whatever he wants me to wear but changing in gowns is not as easy as it is in some movies. In fact it's really tiring and very troublesome. **** "This second gown that Ms. Cattleya wear is called fit-and-flare. It has a silhouette that has similarities to the mermaid style which she had worn earlier, but this time, this gown flares out on her hip bones and is fitted through her upper body.”

You would think Mack’s ass was on fire by how quickly he headed outside and to his boat. Brack held up his hands in surrender. “I take it debutante is a bad word?” “Yeah, you could call it that.” I stood up and stepped closer to his chair. “Parading young girls so they can find an appropriate husband should have gone out in the eighteen hundreds. I couldn’t care less about parties or proms or anything that requires me to wear a formal dress.” Well, not since I was six and imagined myself in a princess dress swirling around the ballroom with my dad.