See Victoria run. See Victoria slip, fall, and skid down the ice like it's January in Falias.

Winter's finally here, and, frankly, I'm not sure what I think of that. I like the cold. I enjoy the fact that it let's me wear my long coats and heavier outfits without perspiring or expiring from heatstroke. The issue with the winter where I currently reside is a (bad) habit of the climate, which is to snow several times preceding the onset of true winter, each time ending with the snow melting. Then the temperature drops like a newborn elephant, meaning all the water floating around on the surface freezes into a thin layer of the most vicious ice you will ever come across. It's slick as hell, often has sharp edges, is blackened from soil and ashphalt, and enjoys (if ice can experience pleasure) lying in wait for passersby, (like myself) who are in a hurry because it's bloody freezing outside, to send us sprawling. It's practically in one's best interest to wear crampons, and during this period there's usually an upswing of people heading to Health Services with bloody noses, cracked skulls, and other 'sneaky bastard ice' related injuries. As suggested before, I've fallen over several times, as I'm still getting my 'ice legs' back, but I've experienced no major trauma other than bruised pride.

In other news, the 'big buy' was decided on - the black bustle coat - purchased, and has arrived. It's quite gorgeous, and I've already recieved several compliments, the most charming being from a girl I don't even know who described the coat as 'frill-tacular'. I'm eager to wear it upon my return home, especially in conjunction with my favorite hat. Said return home weighs heavily on my mind these days. I catch myself day-dreaming of my mom's cooking and the delights of a bed with full box springs. I'll be seeing my three best friends as well, and we have plans to shop, dine, and promenade all over the place. I also intend to stuff myself like last month's turkey on all the edible delights I miss while at school, including such things as gumbo, sushi, and as much Lebanese food as I can feasibly digest.

Before I go home, however, I have to negotiate the landmine of Finals Week. I thankfully get the two worst ones out of my way in one fell swoop, so at least that's an upshot.

I'm also glad that everyone liked the vlog - I will probably be doing more in future, especially when I find myself strapped for time.

Safe flying, airship pilots!

The pear of anguish, impalement, and crappy shopping

So after a crazy, crazy weekend I come once more to my blog. Things move apace, my readers, what with my prepping for the Emilie Autumn concert (note the banner at the bottom of the blog), and making plans for my 'big buy'. The big buy is a piece of clothing that I purchase before the yuletide season and which makes me the star attraction at any event I go to. What this year's will be is still up in the air, though I'm very tempted by a red corset, a bustle jacket, and a short kimono dress. The pics below feature the three of them.

That aside, I also recently saw the Mother of Tears, a film by Dario Argento that completes his 'Three Mothers' cycle, which is a series of movies that feature three powerful and evil witches who are defeated, one after the other. I saw Suspiria - the first of the three - at a showing by my college's film club, and absolutely loved it. Now this isn't, admittedly, a steampunk movie in any way shape, or form, but it was a super creepy and violent romp (involving someone falling into a room full of razor wire and forever putting Saw to shame,) and given that I am a huge horror movie buff I was eager to see The Mother of Tears, which came out much more recently. So after chugging around on the internet for awhile I was able view it, and all I have to say is this: HOLY SHIT. There's alot of stupid in the movie, including some really atrocious dialogue, and more than a couple of gaping plotholes or obvious 'don't go in there!' type scares, but the big thing that made the movie absolutely bizarre to watch is the death scenes. As a history nerd and would-be museum curator, I have a fairly extensive knowledge of mediaeval torture devices, and this film features at least two EXTREMELY OBSCURE ones. I won't go into the nitty gritty about it, but know that it was as if someone had turned Dario Argento loose in the Spanish Inquisition (which no one expects) and said 'take whatever you want.'

Still looking for that steampunk lamp. Lots of good candidates are arraying themselves before me, and the question now arises as to whether or not it will sit on the desk or hang from the ceiling.

And finally, to revert to the mention of my weekend, I have a sort of 'mini-review' to share. Once I'd stabilized and wasn't reeling every time I stood up, my roommate and I packed ourselves into her car and drove to Ann Arbor, with the intent of getting her some period looking clothes for the concert. I'd done some online research and been informed that there was a shop called 'Adorn Me' that dealt in alot of lacy shirts and velvet coats, so I figured it was our best option. No sooner had we entered the shop, however, than I was proved deeply and egregiously wrong. The store was like a million boutiques across the US, featuring ugly hobo purses in technicolor leather with gilded chains, chunky plastic bracelets being sold for twice their actual worth (if not more), slouchy shirts that sag in all the wrong places, and enormous sunglasses that give one the appearance of being either a fighter pilot or a bug. Take your pick. I was thoroughly peeved, and my roommate and I beat a hasty retreat while trying not to make excessive faces or - in my case - dry heave from the highly chemical odor that permeated the whole place. So if you're ever in Ann Arbor, dear readers with any sense of taste, steer clear of Adorn Me.

Safe flying, airship pilots!

The aristocrat plans for a concert

So now it's time for some actual writing, after last week's photo only post.

My biggest steampunk-related (or semi steampunk) interest these days is the fact that I will be going to the Emilie Autumn concert on December 6th, and it is my fervent desire to dress myself to the aristocratic nines for the occasion. This will be my first concert, interestingly enough, in that my childhood was spent primarily cloistered away from the world in an all girl's Catholic school where it was in my best interest to remain as reclusive as possible, so as to avoid the attention of the bigger fish in the pond, i.e. the blonde and gucci-clad girls who held in their hands the power to ruin one's life. It is rather strange, now that I think about it, that they held so much sway in highschool, but now that I am in college I see their kind every day and they have no power over me.

I am also on the prowl for a steampunk lamp. It's my intention to turn my room at my family's cottage into the lair of a gear-head naturalist, with steampunk gadgets, lithographs of plants, and shadowboxed bugs on the walls. I have several very nice candidates from Etsy, but I'm going to wait before I jump on any specific one. And while I'm on the subject, I've managed to get my roomie addicted to Etsy. Ah Etsy, the gift that keeps on giving.

 

Still no real improvement in the boyfriend arena. I've got my hooks dangling and baited in the water, but they've only had sporadic nibbling, and the one fish I'm most interested to hook worries me, as I'm not sure whether I'd be landing a prize bass or a hammerhead shark. I guess we'll just have to see, won't we readers?

 

And as I've said before, please feel free to give me suggestions for things to review either by email or in the comments. I'm always happy to oblige.

Safe flying, airship pirates!

Halloween: Costumes, pumpkins, ghosts, and hangovers.

Well Halloween was wild, and the ensuing week exhausting. So instead of a cohesive post, I present pics of myself in full costume.

There is no epidural for the birth of a book

My novel is officially two chapters long now, and by the very fact that the first chapter is complete the book’s chances of survival are hugely increased. It’s a sad but true fact in my case that dozens of story ideas that I have never make it onto a page. I lose interest, the idea doesn’t pan out, something better comes along, and the previous concept gets reabsorbed into my mind. The loss is always disheartening, but this time it looks like the culmination of dozens of scrapped ideas have formed into a new and hardier specimen, one that I can write without feeling put upon or dissatisfied. Here are some samples of said novel, just to pique your interest:
“Listen, Gabriel, I don’t know what the hell is going on but I do know that the man who raised me has been murdered and the last things he was able to pass on to me were a book full of cryptic writing, a necklace that I know I’ve seen even if I have no overt memory of it, and a note telling me to run for my life. So pardon me if I’m a little hysterical.”

“We have a murderer in London who’s clearly out of his mind and threatening to do harm to others, assassination attempts on her Majesty, and all manner of petty crime and theft besides, but we’re supposed to drop everything to investigate the death of some French artist’s model?”

“Mother, the man who tried to kill me had a picture of your necklace in his pocket. I have to know what all this is about.”
“Oh god, I’d hoped to spare you this,” Ramses’ mother turned away from him, hugging herself as though she was cold in the blazing Egyptian sun, “I’d hoped your French blood would thin out the curse that runs in our family.”

In the meantime I’m working out my Halloween plans. My costume is all lined up – I’m going as a kitsune, a Japanese fox spirit – and am only waiting on the mask. I also recently purchased some sock garters decorated with gears from the online shop known as Sock Dreams, which will get a critique once I get some time to do shops as well as media in my reviews. I’m also trying to think up a way to do a Steampunk jack o’ lantern, though I’ll probably just copy the face of the pumpkin scarecrow in Sleepy Hollow, like I do every year, and searching for Halloween parties to gatecrash and/or have a grand time at.
And on a final note I’m currently on the lookout for a boyfriend, in that I’m officially sick of being single. I’m not going to talk about my candidates here, as god knows who reads this blog *shifty eyes* but rest assured they exist and you may get updates on the Steampunk Aristocrat’s attempts to find love.

Safe flying, airship pilots!

I know I’m back in college when I wake up with strange books all over my bed and haven’t a clue how they got there.

Wow. What else is there to say, really? Over the last week I have gained over twenty new subscribers to my youtube channel and four new watchers on my blog. I’m not really sure what to say about it, though grateful and honored don’t begin to describe my feelings. I started making these videos practically on a whim, and I am so unbelievably happy that they’re well liked. I’m also curious as to where the sudden windfall of attention has come from. It seemed like overnight people were beating down my youtube door, and though I don’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth I’m still curious as to the ‘source point’ of all this attention. Or, perhaps, there isn’t one, and my sudden deluge of subscribers is a standalone complex to rival anything Ghost in the Shell has ever had to deal with.

Now to jump to an unrelated topic, Etsy Vs. Artfire. This is a nasty, prickly issue that has popped up in my life more and more recently, mostly because I’m an Etsy addict. The argument I’ve heard thus far is that Artfire is more independently minded and just generally better. I, however, still favor Etsy for several reason: most prominent, I find that the aesthetic design of Etsy is superior. It’s simple white background and lack of clutter is less distracting than the colorful and image heavy front page of Artfire. After that point I don’t see any particular level of superiority vs. inferiority. If I wanted to sell via one or the other, perhaps I would have stronger feelings. But I’m not a seller, I’m a buyer and a critic of shops from the patron end of things. I can also say that I tend to trust Etsy more because it’s been around longer, a classic symptom of my tried-and-true loving Capricorn nature. If Artfire manages to make a bigger name for itself as a good seller and not just a champion of the under-fed artist I’ll take more note of it.

And on a final note, I still have no freshman shadow, which is just fine by me. I’m busy enough with my awesome roommate. Our relationship is something on par with Holmes and Watson. I’m the Holmes, quiet, antisocial, busy with my computer the way the famous detective was busy with his chemistry set. My roomie, on the other hand, is a far more friendly being, selfless to a fault, willing to help people regardless of time or trouble, a perfect double of Watson, albeit a version of Watson that has two X chromosomes. I’d say we make a good team, and we are certainly a superior one to that which I had the year before, in which my roommate considered my fantasy magazines and novels to be evil. More on that in later entries.

Safe flying, airship pilots!

Chaos and Cards

Well with my new review posted and my next review in the works, something has occurred to me. When I first posted Episode 8 the credits music was Depeche Mode’s well known song, ‘Personal Jesus’. No sooner had I uploaded the video, however, than youtube muted the entire thing because I had used that song and apparently I didn’t have the right to. I was then forced to take it down, change the music to E Nomine’s ‘Mondengel’, and reupload. This whole affair was a phenomenal pain in the ass, and I have thereby come to the conclusion that, simply put, I need some theme music of my own, since I do not ever want to have to fidget constantly with the video, checking and rechecking that it hasn’t been muted.

Now I don’t know how many people read my blog regularly, but I’m going to post this here and on my youtube channel: I’m holding a contest to see who can make me the best theme music. It can be any style, with lyrics or without, I’m not picky. The one I like will become my official theme music and play over the endings and possibly the opener (which I’m considering adding) of all my episodes, with credit given to the composer in the credits. It’s that simple.

All this aside, not all that much has been happening this week. My most exciting prospects will occur this Saturday, when I learn to play whist for the first time. I’m a lover of card games of all kinds, though I’m severely out of practice, with my favorite games being Texas Hold ‘Em, Five Card Stud, BS, and Black Jack respectively. I would, however, like to learn some older, more upper crust card games, particularly ones that would have been played during the Victorian era, and whist seems like a good place to start. As a child I was also taught rummy, and I will hopefully renew my ability to play that as well.

Safe flying, airship pilots!

Epic wins and fails

I’m sad to say, dear readers, that this upcoming week’s review will not be about 9, now. This weekend I’m going to be occupied going to a production of The Phantom of the Opera, and I won’t have time to get to a movie theater. I will instead be reviewing the book Whitechapel Gods, and this review will be unique in that it is the first time I will ever be reviewing something I really hate, as opposed to any of my other episodes which were generally positive or at least balanced the negativity, as in my double jeopardy episode. I won’t spoil the surprise for you, but rest assured that Whitechapel Gods is going to get shredded.

And while I’m on the topic of reviews, allow me to say how happy I am that my Atlantis review has 91 views and counting! It’s racking up views extremely quickly, and on examination of the stats I’ve realized that this is due to the immensely helpful Dr. Fabre, who picked up on me when I first began making reviews and posts them on his blog, The Voyages of Dr. Fabre. So I’d like to give a little shout out to him and thank him for posting my videos! :D

On an equally positive note I’ve finally gotten confirmation that my BPAL (Black Phoenix Alchemy Labs) order has shipped, and the timing couldn’t be better, since I begin my Hellboy reviews in October and one of the perfumes I purchased is from BPAL’s new Hellboy line of perfumes. To be more specific, I purchased the Kroenen scent, as I’ve always been a bit of a fan of that gas-mask wearing lunatic.

I also urge any and all of my readers to send me suggestions for things to review. I can’t guarantee when I’ll get to each and every request, but rest assured that they will get used eventually. As mentioned, my email is countesscrow@gmail.com, so go right ahead and email me some ideas, or else leave me comments for the same reason. I promise not to bite, though I can’t say the same for some of the Lovecraftian monsters that populate my place.

And speaking of Lovecraft, I’m happy to say that I’m soon to begin writing a Steampunk novel that has a lot of tentacles and things that come out of the sea in it. Does it feature Cthulhu? No. Does it feature octopus men? You bet it does. I may post bits of it here as time goes by, hopefully for your delectation and delight (mmm….calamari.)

No news on whom I’ve been saddled with as far as a freshman, and as time has gone by I’ve begun to allow myself the luxury of hope in the case. She might turn out to be a budding mad scientist who I can lead down the gear and oil path of Steampunk. She might just be an awesome nerdy type who, even if she is not Steampunk, can appreciate my weirdness. I’m just trying to look on the bright side, right now. *Cues up Monty Python’s ‘Always Look On the Bright Side’*

Safe flying, airship pilots!

This is the sort of thing that makes me want to put on a gas mask and never breath the same air as other people ever again.

Well DAMN. I should have seen this sort of thing coming. Mercury goes into retrograde and everything goes to hell in a hand basket. Two of my friend’s cars have broken down, the internet keeps going on the fritz, my comments box refuse to work (has anyone else had this problem? Email me if so), and I get sick. Bloody fantastic. The illness is by far the worst aspect of things. It’s not the H1N1 by any stretch of the imagination, but it’s a vile sinus infection that drains down my throat and makes me cough and hack like every other tragic heroine of Victorian literature. Breathing feels like sucking water. So I go on an antibiotic to deal with the bacteria that are picking out curtains in my nose and, of course, the antibiotic gives me stomach problems. Just lovely. So I’ve now gone off the antibiotic and am fervently praying that the bacteria don’t start looking at wallpaper.

On a more positive note, however, those pants I posted a picture of in my previous post arrived, along with a bunch of other items I ordered. I was all but deluged with packages. I would also like to thank the young man who was on staff in the mail room at the time, since he just gave me the packages, as opposed to forcing me to wait till they stuck a paper slip in my mailbox to tell me my things had arrived. Now I personally have no problem with the latter method, except for the fact that our college mailroom is not the quickest getting those slips written out. So even if, say, you KNOW that the package is there via tracking numbers some of the bitchier mail room employees (and for some reason it always seems to be the female clerks who do it,) like to refuse to give you your things. Even if you can SEE it, as has been the case on a couple of occasions.

And to continue on the package note, I’ve reentered the hell of Black Phoenix Alchemy Lab’s ridiculous waiting period. I should have known it would be a problem, but I went and did it anyway. Hope springs eternal, after all. But today I find out that they haven’t even shipped stuff that was ordered before MY order, which was two weeks ago. Good grief, BPAL, what on earth happened during that period? Did all your perfume makers go on strike or just sit in the corner rocking back and forth for a month? *headdesk* But I try to endure, since one of the perfumes I ordered seems likely to become a new favorite in ensuing days. The perfume is called

Ozymandias and it smells so unbearably good (like patchouli and sandalwood incense overlaid with something slightly floral) that after I put it on some that I was sent as a sample I walked around for the rest of the day with my nose all but glued to my wrist.

I have a new video up, for those who didn’t know, and I’m really impressed by the fact that it has gotten 48 views in two days – almost as many as the one I posted two weeks ago. I guess my popularity is on the upswing. I’d also like to alert my readers of the fact that the next video is only going to be about the movie 9, since I can find NO THEATER that has Dorian Gray as one of its films. If anyone actually knows of a place where it’s playing, please, for the love of god, let me in on the secret location!

You may have also realized that this post is early. I normally don’t blog the same week that I make a review, but I think I may start blogging every week more or less. Just keep checking back on Thursdays.

And on a final note, come October I’m going to do a series of reviews focusing on the Hellboy comics, movies, videogames, and anywhere else that big red monkey has managed to turn up. So if you, my readers, know of any other Hellboy related subjects besides the ones mentioned, send me an email and I’ll see if I can do a review on it.

Safe flying, airship pirates!

Of Hats and Britches

….well it seems I have, as usual, been over-excited about my return to college. Not that it isn’t a good thing, don’t get me wrong, but it’s the second and I’m already bored out of my mind. Now some of you readers are probably wondering why the Steampunk Aristocrat doesn’t get off her ass and do something, and here’s my reply: It’s too bloody hot! Oh yes, summer heat is a killer, as per usual, so I have spent this day alternately sprawled in bed with nothing on or else contemplating how much food I would have to displace and how many bones I would have to break so I could fit myself into the fridge. But for now all I can hope for is that the weather goes abruptly polar and I can actually go back to wearing my typical three layers of clothing without fear of heatstroke.

In other news, however, I’d like to introduce you all to my hat – yes, my hat, you read that right, your processor is not failing you. That picture below is said hat,

and it is the crown jewel of my hat collection, a collection I’d begun years before I became a Steampunk. Said collection also includes a tricorn hat, a floppy purple corduroy

hat purchased in Stratford, Canada from the awesome and now defunct shop Elizagoth, the headdress of a Balinese dancer, a black felt hat that looks like the bastard offspring of a topper and a bowler, a mini-top hat made of black satin, and two full top hats, one made of blue velvet with black satin stripes and the other constructed of brown canvas so as to look like a pith helmet. But none of them hold a candle to this beauty, my de facto ‘sweet hat’, a hat that may appear in other important pictures later on and therefore a hat you should know. It is constructed of black leather (it smells terrific), with a golden buckle bolted to the front, a couple of useless but pretty magnifying lenses attached to the brim, and, of course, the gorgeous spray of feathers pinned to the hat band. I also have a dark green ribbon cockade that I pin on in place of the plumes when a less ostentatious look is called for.

In other news I’m apparently going to be made to mentor a freshman in my dorm. Of this I’m less than pleased, as probability states that she’s not going to want anything to do with yours truly, and I, quite frankly, want nothing to do with her. What is it about dorm life that dictates that everyone become buddy-buddy with everyone else? When I was a fresh(wo)man I just wanted to be left alone to study in peace. *bangs head on table* But then that’s my inner mad scientist talking, who’s an antisocial bastard.

I’m also assembling a rather frilly ‘Steampunk travelling outfit’ for myself. I currently have just the boots and blouse (brown leather boots with buttons up the side and a loose blouse with lots of frothy lace), but I have pants on order (see picture below).

Now I’m just looking for a high waisted brown leather jacket. If anyone can advise me of where to find such a thing, I would be most thankful. If you want a more detailed idea of what I’m looking for, my general mental design is similar to that of Jareth’s from Labyrinth, but sans the pauldrons.

If you’d like to contact me, my email is countesscrow@gmail.com. Feel free to drop me a line about any such leather jacket, or if you have questions or advice for me, or just for the hell of it.

Safe flying, airship pilots!

*pry-bars monkey wrench from the gears*

Well, dear readers, it’s been awhile, yes? Life conspired to keep me away from my reviews and my blog for over a month and bloody well almost succeeded, dammit. I’d like to beg the forgiveness of all my readers and such for lack of updates – it was rather inexcusably rude of me. I shall return to making the reviews by next week.

Now, if you’ve found it in your hearts to forgive me, a post on my own attempts at becoming fully Steampunk.

The process itself has been rather rocky, as one might have guessed from my dour second posting. When one is born in a family that values practicality over beauty one often finds very little support or sympathy when one has a hard time getting into a car because they’re in a corset. And as one might further guess from that sentence, a lot of my transformation lies in my wardrobe. I possess a bevy of Steampunk clothes garnered from dozens of different shops or else made by myself (to be specific I’ve made most of my corsets). I attempt to wear said clothes as often as I feasibly can, though I’m often unable to due either to physical impossibility (top hats also don’t fit in cars) or the demands of life. My return to college, however, will see an upswing in my flouncing around in lace bloomer (and sometimes only lace bloomers, *suggestive laugh*) and bustles.

An easier area of alteration is my jewelry, and I sport an enormous leather cuff bracelet on my left wrist from dawn till dusk unless something like water makes me remove it. Said cuff features a large skeleton watch and a bevy of gears cut from brass. I also have bobby pins decorated in gears, gear earrings, and so forth. These I am usually able to wear often – sometimes every day for weeks on end – due to the fact that jewelry is easier to get on than the elaborate clothes I favor. Keep this in mind, my steampunk paduans: Oftentimes it is the clothes that will prove the most problematic. It takes force of will to get up, squeeze into a corset, button the bodice of your tea dress, grab a parasol, and then manage to make breakfast and go about your day.

We move from here to the gadgets and the accessories. From top hats to walking sticks I wear and use a bevy of strange implements. Some are easy to fit into day to day life, such as calligraphy pens, which allowed me to fix my previously atrocious hand writing. Others, such as the aforementioned walking stick, get me exceedingly weird looks and are difficult to carry with any level of ease.

And finally there is the literature, movies, and music, both old and new, that I absorb nonstop. It's the fuel that fires my love of being a Steampunk and gives me the aforementioned wherewithal to dress and act the part, making that world of gears and gunmetal come to life.

Safe flying, airship pilots!

Trial by Hand, Head, and Heart

A cookie to whoever gets the reference in the title.

Well, as a lovely way to start this blog, here’s a post about the pitfalls on the glittering trail to becoming a Steampunk.

The fact is that there are a lot of things one may or may not consider when one first gets into the subculture. There are many difficulties to be navigated, but most can be solved with a trio of attributes. Simply put, one must possess these three things: One should have skills in crafting items with your hands, some spare money, and self confidence. You won’t go anywhere without them.

The first thing I will handle is the beginning pair, and their import is obvious: to decorate one’s life with the trappings of the late nineteenth century, one is going to require either considerable skill with their hands, or else one must have a large amount of money kicking about so they can purchase the items elsewhere. The former of the two is ultimately the more favorable, since Steampunks as a rule laud handcrafted things and most of the finest items one will find, such as Steampunk-ed laptops or personally fitted corsets, are manually assembled. Thus it is that being able to craft at least some of one’s Steampunk clothing and equipment is very helpful.

At the same time, however, money will inevitably be a necessity, since not everyone will be able to make everything. I’m a fairly expert seamstress and specialize in corsetry, so I have a leg up in the clothing department, but I have no skills with electronics or metal-work, so I’m naturally going to have to shell out some cash if I want, say, a Steampunk lamp.

And finally one must possess the self confidence to act the part. I often get ‘stage fright’ when I go out in full Victorian dress, and this can be exacerbated when I’m at college where, while many of the men dress however they please, there are few women who dress in any unique or eccentric way. It’s hard to force myself through the door sometimes, but inevitably I put on my big girl bloomers and march out anyway. The reason I do it, I remind myself, is that this is what I really love. This is who I want to be. To hell with fitting in and all that it entails. So I hold my head and my parasol high and keep right on walking.

Being a Steampunk is a wonderful thing. Don’t get me wrong. But knowing the difficulties one will face before one enters the fray is always a good strategy. And everyone is different. Some will find that the confidence that often eludes me will come naturally to them, and others may be able to make anything that they put their mind to. It’s all a mix, and that’s one of the wonderful things about Steampunk: you can make what you will of it.

Safe flying, airship pilots!

Introductions All Around!

I am Victoria, steampunk aristocrat and creator of Steampunk Reviews (look the videos up on youtube). I opted to create this little blog to give those who are interested a further look into the machinations of a woman who has made it her goal to incorporate the steampunk aesthetic into her lifestyle in whatever way possible.

So a little background, yes? I've always been a history geek, and I've always felt out of place in this time period. Perhaps as a side-effect of being named Victoria, I was drawn to the era bearing that moniker, and as I got older and went through my many (and varied) phases, I constantly returned to the class act that is the late nineteenth century. Eventually I ran across steampunk and realized that this was what I really wanted - this world of brass, geissler tubes, roaring steam engines, and zepplin flying pirates. And so I am absorbing steampunk into my life, bit by piece.

I hope to use this blog to document the full metamorphosis from oddball young woman to full blown corset wearing steampunk aristocrat, and I hope that any budding steampunks who read my blog will learn from my pitfalls and have an easier time of fully incorporating steampunk style into their lives.

That's all for now. I will update this blog every week on Thursday, or (more likely) every other week on Thursday.

Safe flying, airship pilots!