Posts tagged mythology
Posts tagged mythology
Votive Offering to Cupid by Jean Baptiste Greuze (1725 - 1805)
The Bath of Venus by Auguste Glaize (1807 - 1893)
Mademoiselle Lange as Venus by Anne-Louis Girodet de Roucy-Triosson (1767 - 1824)

Although anemōnē is Greek for “daughter of the wind,” it is believed by some that this is a folk etymology and that the word actually comes from a Semitic language. Regardless, the anemone has always been known as the wind flower, since the ancient Greeks believed that the flower would only open its petals when touched by the wind. Thus, they named it after Anemos, the god of the wind. Another popular story claims that, when Venus was weeping for Adonis in the forest, the anemone sprang up where her tears fell.

Still Life with Anemones by Pierre-Auguste Renoir
Anemone was a nymph, beloved by Zephyr [the god of the west wind]. Flora, jealous of her, banished her from her court, and transformed her into a flower, that blows before the return of spring. Zephyr has abandoned this unhappy beauty to the rude caresses of Boreas, who, unable to gain her love, harshly shakes her, half opens her blossoms, and causes her immediately to fade. An anemone, with these words, Brevis est usus― “Her reign is short”― is touchingly expressive of the transitory nature of beauty.
In spring the green woods of merry England are covered with the flowers of the anemone. Turn the eye whichever way you will, there it greets you like “a pleasant thought;” it forms a bed of flowers around the foot of the mighty oak, and below the tangling brambles, which you may peep between, but cannot pass,― there, also, are its pearly blossoms bending. The Greeks named it the flower of the Wind, and so plentiful is it in our country that we might fancy that the breeze has blown it everywhere. The gaudy anemone of the garden, the emblem of forsaken love, is known to all; but our favorites are the uncultivated offspring of the windy woods, which come long before the green leaves hang overhead to shelter them.
―The Language of Flowers (1852) by Henrietta Dumont


Dress: Mary Magdalene / Blouse: Victorian Maiden / Coat: Victorian Maiden / Tights: Anthropologie / Shoes: Axes Femme / Hat: ModCloth / Gloves: Innocent World / Purse: ModCloth / Jewlery & Other Accessories: Forever XXI, H&M
The anemone is a cute little flower, but it’s associated with so many sad stories, which made it kind of tricky for me to put together an outfit― do I go for classic or gothic? I tried to go for a hybrid of the two styles, and I’m not entirely happy with this look, but I think that certain aspects do a fair job of representing the flower’s meaning.
I went with a mostly-gray color scheme (there’s also some black and cream), since gray is about the saddest color I can think of; black just looks oppressive, but gray really makes you feel depressed and empty inside. The other important piece of symbolism is the feather motif that I tried to incorporate with the necklace, brooch, and purse. The anemone is the “wind flower,” and, although you can’t really depict the wind, the idea of rustling feathers and flight can give you an impression of a cool breeze. I also included the coat with the capelet, since capelets make me think of windy days.
Other motifs that would be equally effective are leaves, tree branches, and such, since the anemone has an association with the woods as well as the wind. This also means that you could incorporate pieces like scarves and ear muffs to bring in a bit of a mori girl element. I was going to try adding some mori girl pieces, but I held off, since I really wanted to keep this mostly classic with a hint of gothic.
Icarius (Diomedes Wounding Aphrodite When She Tries To Recover The Body Of Aeneas) by Arthur Heinrich Wilhelm Fitger (1840 - 1909)
Nymphe by by Luis Ricardo Falero (1851 - 1896)
Lament for Icarus by Herbert James Draper (1863 - 1920)
The Daughters of Ran by Hans Dahl (1849 - 1937)
Danae by Leon Francois Comerre (1850 - 1916)
Sitzende Venus mit Pelzmantel by Johann von Strasioipka Canon (1829 - 1885)