New Chapter
Chapter 1
Everybody has a sense of style. Everybody it seems except me. I imitate, reflect and sometimes even sparkle. When I was very young, say 2 or 3 when your powers are quite wild. I would leave traces of snake skin on the carpet. My clothes like many small children would be mismatched as well. The only time I was dressed properly was when my mother put me in something and we went to the synagogue with my grandfather.
When I think back, it was always because I wanted to be like “her”. When I was young, (under 10) I idolised her. The exterior was nothing to me, I could change it. But as I grew up it seems I was growing into her anyway. I was playful and colourful thanks to Tonks.
As a young student I developed traits of my friends. You could literally see who my friends were by watching my face. It grew longer and my hair redder the more time I spent with the Weasleys and when I was dating Cedric, I developed the same jaw line. My hair was the main talking point though. The phrase of the “greasy snape” to “fireball snape” rang in the common rooms. I hope you can tell which one I was.
In 1994 I created my own Yule Ball dress for the tournament, and then later it was less fashion more… depression. By the time I had reached teenage years, which I think we can all agree is probably the weirdest stage in all of us. I transformed into all manner of creatures, and it was probably an acceptance of who I am, a woodland elf, that spurred many transformations.
I gather inspiration from the people around me and during a few years of my life that “inspiration” was from Death Eaters, this meant their mannerisms, the way they dressed and their faces. They say you can tell a troll from the spell, a snatcher from the eyes and Bellatrix from her laugh. I was none of these things. But I tried to fit in. To play the part not only for my uncle, but my father, and Dumbledore too. My face became the most pointed it had ever been, some may have put it down to ill health but it wasn’t. My hair was dark almost jet black, my eyes snake-like at times and my clothes would almost always be dark with a spider’s web on the outside. It was my way of “fitting in”. But isn’t that what fashion is?
When there were marriages and funerals, I was spared the question of asking what to wear because I simply wore traditional elven robes. At work in the Ministry of Magic I was also spared because for office work, I wear a suit. Usually one that depends on my daily mood. In the courtroom we have various robes attuned to your station, the hat is unpleasant. For normal work we wear traveling coats but it is really up to us.
One of my last books, you will note, told of our life in Romania. I would life to call this our Boho years. I’ve always had trouble trying to fit in to the “muggle way of life” and we probably both outdid ourselves (and Delphi too) by having a bit of fun. We were mostly up in the mountains so locals didn’t see us much but those that did watched us with interest as we tried to replicate their way of life. Most of the clothes Charlie wore were work clothes but there is the odd photo of us being “colourful”. My clothes were baggy and easy. In Sweden we styled more for the temperature than anything else. Age does really make a difference whatever you try and admit to yourself. More work clothes and lots of wonderful coats.
Nowadays we all have to stop ourselves on the odd occasions that we might end up like so many wizarding families and completely unable to dress in a Muggle world. You can’t really say we have the greatest influences though. Molly and Arthur are useless when dressing in the Muggle world. For some reason they can never put on enough clothes. My Uncle was always dressed in black and the residents of Cokeworth used to think that we were in perpetual mourning. Lucius and Narcissa were slightly better, but only because they did not wear long cloaks all the time.
The best part is that you don’t always have to change your clothes to suit your face, the unfortunate part is that, once you transfigure you may not always fit your clothes. So best to find a way to transform them to.
When I think back, it was always because I wanted to be like “her”. When I was young, (under 10) I idolised her. The exterior was nothing to me, I could change it. But as I grew up it seems I was growing into her anyway. I was playful and colourful thanks to Tonks.
As a young student I developed traits of my friends. You could literally see who my friends were by watching my face. It grew longer and my hair redder the more time I spent with the Weasleys and when I was dating Cedric, I developed the same jaw line. My hair was the main talking point though. The phrase of the “greasy snape” to “fireball snape” rang in the common rooms. I hope you can tell which one I was.
In 1994 I created my own Yule Ball dress for the tournament, and then later it was less fashion more… depression. By the time I had reached teenage years, which I think we can all agree is probably the weirdest stage in all of us. I transformed into all manner of creatures, and it was probably an acceptance of who I am, a woodland elf, that spurred many transformations.
I gather inspiration from the people around me and during a few years of my life that “inspiration” was from Death Eaters, this meant their mannerisms, the way they dressed and their faces. They say you can tell a troll from the spell, a snatcher from the eyes and Bellatrix from her laugh. I was none of these things. But I tried to fit in. To play the part not only for my uncle, but my father, and Dumbledore too. My face became the most pointed it had ever been, some may have put it down to ill health but it wasn’t. My hair was dark almost jet black, my eyes snake-like at times and my clothes would almost always be dark with a spider’s web on the outside. It was my way of “fitting in”. But isn’t that what fashion is?
When there were marriages and funerals, I was spared the question of asking what to wear because I simply wore traditional elven robes. At work in the Ministry of Magic I was also spared because for office work, I wear a suit. Usually one that depends on my daily mood. In the courtroom we have various robes attuned to your station, the hat is unpleasant. For normal work we wear traveling coats but it is really up to us.
One of my last books, you will note, told of our life in Romania. I would life to call this our Boho years. I’ve always had trouble trying to fit in to the “muggle way of life” and we probably both outdid ourselves (and Delphi too) by having a bit of fun. We were mostly up in the mountains so locals didn’t see us much but those that did watched us with interest as we tried to replicate their way of life. Most of the clothes Charlie wore were work clothes but there is the odd photo of us being “colourful”. My clothes were baggy and easy. In Sweden we styled more for the temperature than anything else. Age does really make a difference whatever you try and admit to yourself. More work clothes and lots of wonderful coats.
Nowadays we all have to stop ourselves on the odd occasions that we might end up like so many wizarding families and completely unable to dress in a Muggle world. You can’t really say we have the greatest influences though. Molly and Arthur are useless when dressing in the Muggle world. For some reason they can never put on enough clothes. My Uncle was always dressed in black and the residents of Cokeworth used to think that we were in perpetual mourning. Lucius and Narcissa were slightly better, but only because they did not wear long cloaks all the time.
The best part is that you don’t always have to change your clothes to suit your face, the unfortunate part is that, once you transfigure you may not always fit your clothes. So best to find a way to transform them to.
