19th Century Victorian Balls.

 I am a bit of a soppy person when it comes to romance and man. But of course, not in a way that will cause me to drool and giggle, swoon and drop dead at their feet. Now, that would be really awkward. Because :
1) If the guy doesn't catch you, you'd fall and hit the floor hard with your head. OUCH!
2) It will undoubtedly be very very very embarrassing if everyone looks at you splattered all over the floor.
3) It will make you look very unflattering and which will cause all your suitors to run away.

see what I mean? hahaha! but anyways. back to the point! the reason I'm in love with romantic stuff has probably been spurred by the movie Pride and Prejudice starring Keira Knightly and the unknown guy. Sorry! i'm not a fan of his but instead a fan of Keira Knightly. I think, i've rewatched that movie about zillions of times but rest assured, I'm not a fanatic, just that I wouldn't grow bored of it.

And it was because of this scene :

That it got me hooked and fantasizing on attending a real, royal ball. All those fancy hair coifs, all those polished shoes and multiple badges on their coat to show their ranking, all those thick puffy dresses so delicately worn with a corset. The mood. The environment. The music. and most important of all, the tension and sparks in the air.

Well not to forget, those dashing admirals, rugged colonels and tall dark and handsome earls. And the best part was all these happened in England! Where most of the men are polite and not vulgar. At least those who were brought up properly! <3 I could swoon but i'll contradict myself so nevermind.

But there was these few paragraphs that caught my eye when I was reading "Ten Things I Love About You" by Julie Quinn which intrigues me about how the waltz and the ballroom dancing was like during those days, especially when one is madly in love

"They walk to the center of the ballroom and she turned to face him, trying to ignore the shiver of anticipation that slid through her when he placed his other hand at the small of her back. Annabel have never understood why the waltz had once been considered so scandalous.

Now she knew.

He was holding her properly, a full twelve inches between them. No one could have found fault with their behaviour. And yet Annabel felt as if the air around them had been heated, as if her skin had been rubbed with some strange, shimmering magic. Every breath seem to fill her lungs differently and she was acutely aware of her own body, of how it felt to be inside of it, of how each curve moved and flowed with the music.

She felt like a siren. A goddess. And when she looked up at him, he was staring down at her, with a raw hungry expression. Merely by dancing with her, Mr Grey was making her desirable"

One of the last few dresses kept as antique in a museum.

Oh my gosh! don't you just love their dresses? and the dashing men? It's the atmosphere, the music. It's where people fall in love. GOSH. well, not everyone will have a happy ending those days, what's with all the war and marrying above their stations, but still... I would love to go back and live in the 18-19th century just to relive this.

If it's ever ever ever possible, I hope I'd be able to attend a modern Victorian ball one day and who knows? I may find my dashing prince <3

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