Waiting for Love: Vitchi Fashion Shoot

I hope I didn't bore you to death with my obsession with maid-inspired fashion editorials, but here is yet another one. You have to envy fashion photographers - there are not that many occupations where, if you are lucky, you are paid good money for acting out your fetishes.

Caption: No Going Back

I have a large collection of German-language lady-to-maid captions of varying quality, salvaged from a now defunct yahoo group. This is one of a better ones that fits nicely with a lot of the themes in this blog. The free translation is courtesy of T.H.Enerdly.

Translation:

No Going Back

by Derdurchdiezeitreisende (The Time Traveller)

“You don’t look too happy, Madame. Has he left you too?” Rosa couldn’t deny that she felt a sense of schadenfreude about Heather’s streak of bad luck.

“Rosa, please help me. There’s nothing more I can do. What am I doing wrong?” After betting everything on her relationship, Heather knew that she had fallen into a hole so deep that there was no hope of climbing out by herself.

“What more could I do to help you, Madame? I’m your maid: It’s my job to obey your orders. I do your laundry and clean your home, I serve your guests, and when Madame rings the bell, I’m AT YOUR SERVICE.”

“That’s not what I mean, Rosa. I know that you’re a hard-working maid, the best I’ve ever had. But I need a friend to help me cope with my life as well as you seem to cope with yours.” Imploringly, Heather looked into the eyes of her maid. Rosa’s eyes were cold and arrogant. After a few moments, Heather lowered hers to the floor. At this moment, Heather knew how Rosa could help. “Rosa, I’d like to change places with you. How would you like to be the Madame? I’d be your maid.”

Rosa laughed, “Madame, you can’t be serious. I may be your servant, but I’m not your plaything. What would happen? The fine lady plays at being a domestic servant for a while, then, when she’s had enough, everything returns to normal? No, Madame, if you want to be my maid, there won’t be any going back. You should give me all of your property, or even better, get hopelessly into debt.” Rosa laughed again, for she knew that Heather was about to give in. “Heather, honey, a maid’s uniform fits so much better when there’s no going back.”

The Discreet Charm of Kate Upton: V Magazine 2013

This has to be one of the best maid-inspired fashion editorials out there. Lovely fashions, great maid's uniform, a story (however vague) behind the photos that can be intrepreted as a lady-to-maid plot with some imagination.

Story: Annabelle's New Role. Part 13.

by Violet Carson I realized that I needed to stop daydreaming and get on with some work, reminding myself that I was a cleaner and my new home needed some serious attention. I slipped on my housecoat over my old dress and got to work. Even now, after three months of this life, that sensation of pulling on the cheap polyester material still thrilled me. I spent over three hours on my hands and knees wiping the kitchen and bathroom floors and thoroughly cleaning the cooker and all the kitchen units. I don’t know when they were last cleaned, but they were filthy. I deliberately didn’t wear any rubber gloves as I was determined to accentuate the dry redness of my hands and further enhance the experience of pain and discomfort of the poor working woman that I’d become. At the end of my cleaning shift, both my knees and back were in absolute agony and it was a real struggle to stand up straight. Sometimes I did wonder why I was putting myself through this and compared the pain and resulting stimulation to some of my old and probably never to be repeated S&M sessions with Mark.

Let's Come Clean: Elle Russia 2011

Another maid-inspired fashion editorial, this time from the other side of the Iron Curtain. The description on the front page goes as follows (the headline is a rare case of a play on words that can be translated almost directly with the same meaning): Let's come clean : white collars, stockings and tight skirts - we are carrying out the main designer's fantasy of the season by trying on the role of a mistress-maid.

Unfortunately the photos don't really live up to the promising description, but one of them is really well done and I've seen it numerous times previously without realizing it was part of a bigger photo shoot.

Story: Lady Devonshire

by Jackie J

Chapter I

It was a fog-filled evening that was beginning to cloak the empty streets of Mayfair. It was shortly after six in the evening  on the twelfth of November eighteen eighty seven and the hustle and bustle of London was easing to a slow trickle of pedestrians making their way to their apartments. There was nothing significant to catch the eye, nothing at all remarkable about the shawl-clad girl scurrying on her way, a laden basket with a bouquet of flowers hanging like jewels over its edge that swung from her arm. Three years previously this particular nondescript girl would not have been seen out on the streets and walking. Never.

A crest-emblazoned carriage would have heralded her passing and all would have known the carriage contained the valuable cargo of Lady Isabella Devonshire. The daughter of Earl Devonshire and sole heir to the Devonshire fortune, it had been a classic riches to rags story and the only person who could have prevented such a demise was Lady Devonshire herself.  Why she chose the path she did can be traced back to her first chance meeting, or so she thought, with the vivacious Caroline Armstrong-Jones. Caroline, in her late thirties, a sophisticated lady about town had acquired not inconsiderable wealth although few knew from where.

Library Page Update

I've finally found time to update and rewamp the Library Page with new stories and numerous additional links. One new story I wanted to highlight in particular is Tetora's Maid in Her Image, a downgrade/role reversal story partially inspired by Emma Finn's unfinished epic novel Cleaner.

I am very pleased to see that the canon of lady-to-maid works is much bigger than it was when I started this blog. Are there any hidden gems that I haven't linked yet? Always eager to hear your suggestions, dear readers.

Victorian "Class Crossing"

During one of the discussions in this blog recently, I jokingly suggested that there could be a scholarly paper or a Ph.D. about lady-to-maid transformation plots, possibly written by a woman fascinated with the topic. Guess what? I've come across something approximating that - an article titled "Campaigns of Curiosity: Class Crossing and Role Reversal in British Domestic Service, 1890-1950" by Lucy Delap. You can download the full paper in pdf format here. Large part of it, as the title suggests, is devoted to Elizabeth Banks's 1894 book that we've discussed here already, but it also contains a lot of other examples of men and women willingly crossing the boundaries of class, which, in many cases, meant joining the domestic stuff. Here are some interesting cases mentioned in that paper (which is very worth reading in full if you are interested in the topic):

-- The American journalist Nellie Bly had undertaken undercover work in the United States to investigate child and sweated labour from 1885, and the participation of women in this style of journalism, as well as in philanthropic work that required impersonations, became well established on both sides of the Atlantic.

-- Beatrice Potter disguised herself as a Jewish “trouser-hand” in 1888, and claimed that this gave her investigation into sweated labour extra validity. She claimed both invisibility and empathy as the positive products of her disguise, and declared herself to be “surprised at the complete way they have adopted me as one of their class.”

Story: Miss Jacqueline Symonds. Part 2.

By Jackie J

Chapter 7

Catherine Nightingale along with her two partners Rosalind Parsons and Rebecca Stone ran a successful venture capital company based at Westfall Manor, Catherine being the senior partner, holding sixty percent of the stock with Rosalind and Rebecca having twenty percent each. Rosalind and Rebecca reluctantly tolerated the sophisticated and always arrogant Catherine, they had to, she was the majority stockholder and she took every opportunity to remind them both whenever key decisions had to be made.

Catherine knowing the pairs sexual preference, which she shared, often flaunted her desirable body before them, like forbidden fruit, which only served to increase their loathing and also a desire of her. Of course outwardly all was sweetness and light and despite Rebecca and Rosalind doing the majority of the work and Catherine taking the lion’s share of the spoils, the status quo remained and the business thrived.

Months passed and Sally’s relationship with Miss Mendoza softened. Sally was no trouble and carried out her duties like any good house maid would. They were never friend’s, rarely speaking about anything other than work related matters and the ongoing trysts between Sally the Maid and Miss Nightingale the Mistress continued but were never mentioned.

Having been betrayed, by Glen Rodgers, she gave little thought to her previous life at William and Basset. She was Sally Brown now and that was fine. Demarcation within the household remained strict and Sally paid due deference to Madame Nightingale and Miss Mendoza at all times, the only exception being when Madame Nightingale summoned her pretty maid above stairs.

Story: Forever Molly

by Camille Langtry and Monica Graz

Another strong gust of wind made me shiver and I’ve cursed myself for not putting on a wool scarf or a cardigan over my uniform dress. My thin coat alone was hardly adequate. It couldn’t have been much colder than 12 degrees, but it surely felt like Siberian winter to me! Must be that treacherous chilly wind, I thought to myself. After years spent in the climate so hot I could wear a t-shirt  or a light summer dress with flip-flops all year long I’ve certainly got out of habit of putting on layers of clothing to go outside. And Milan’s unpredictable October weather didn’t make it any easier - on some days it almost felt like sunny summer, but on others, like today, it was freezing!

I was right in the heart of historic Milan, surrounded by endless crowds of noisy tourists going in all directions. I looked at the address written down on a piece of paper. It should be here somewhere very close as per instructions: just three blocks away from the Duomo, off Corso Vittorio Emanuele II. I looked around again and finally saw a small restaurant sign in a narrow side-road. Looks like I got here first.

Story: Annabelle's New Role. Part 12.

By Violet Carson

It took me ages to get to sleep as I tossed and turned fingering myself and almost bringing myself to a climax thinking of having sex as Rose, my life was becoming so surreal. Anyway, I must have finally dozed off as I woke with a start at 6.30 with my tinny alarm ringing like crazy. It dawned on me that I hadn’t packed many of my few possessions but also that I must have been quite drunk last night as I’d forgotten to put my curlers in and my hair was a disaster area which almost brought me to tears as my perm had looked so perfect the night before. I quickly put curlers in and covered my head with hairspray and a hairnet hoping to repair some of the damage.

I got dressed, slipping on a tabard and my flat shoes and started on breakfast for Mark and Lucy who must have returned sometime after me as I could see their door was closed. I now automatically thought of my old bedroom as their room

When they finally emerged, Lucy asked me if I’d packed and then admonished me when I said I hadn’t had time as she told me there was a taxi booked to take me at 11 and I had better hurry. I apologized and rushed back to my room to pack everything into my case, shopping trolley and a couple of large carrier bags that were in the cupboard under the stairs.

Story: Miss Jacqueline Symonds. Part 1.

(Before you read another story from Jackie J, please be aware that there is another, updated version of one of her most popular stories, The Demise of Lady Charlotte Rhodes, that I've posted to re-place the older version. You can read it here).

by Jackie J

Chapter 1

At twenty six Jacqueline was quite young to have been promoted to head up the administration section of William and Basset. Based at their headquarters in London the pretty Jacqueline Symonds, a qualified accountant, was responsible, with a staff of thirty, for all incoming and outgoing communications for the international group, William and Basset supplying funding across the commercial sector. The role was demanding but being young and single Jacqueline relished the challenge often working late into the evening at the offices. Always immaculately dressed bright, articulate and at times quite bossy Jacqueline’s only flaw was that she was a bit of a snob.

Jacqueline was normally calm no matter what the crisis but this particular evening she lost her cool with the cleaner. A visit by senior executives would be taking place the following day and Jacqueline, working late again, found the cleaner had failed to ensure the office and its thirty workstations had been prepared in pristine condition despite specific instructions to do so. This was not the first time she had cause to rebuke the cleaner and the tone of her tirade bringing Annie, the cleaner, close to tears. Jacqueline along with Annie then worked late into the night to ensure everything would be perfect for the senior managements visit. Jacqueline’s parting sarcastic comment to her cleaner as she left being

“You may as well bring me one of your overalls tomorrow”

Jacqueline gave little thought to her encounter with the cleaner her mind focused on the meetings she would be having with her managers the following day.  The meetings went well and it was a smug and satisfied Jacqueline that sat at her desk in her office preparing her reports on the day’s events. Her staff had left at five and she followed around six the day could not have gone better.

It was three days later that she received a letter from the cleaning company marked strictly private and confidential requesting a meeting with her concerning the abuse of one of their staff?

Story: Time and Tide

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Story: New Employee. Chapters 10-11.

By BigBird74

10.

A cold sweat gripped me as I took a few pensive steps from the elevator into the main body of the shopping mall. I cannot recall the last time I felt such complete and utter dread. My mind just seemed to cease functioning, gripped by sheer panic and trepidation at what was going to happen. But what was going to happen? Once out of the elevator, I walked briskly to the side and, for the first time, lifted my gaze to see what was happening around me.

That was the moment, I got my first inkling that this whole crazy scheme might really work. I am not a sceptic, but if not for my impulsiveness, I might never have even tried on a uniform. Psychologists may point out some degree of bipolarity in my personality. Usually I was this calculating, sensible businesswoman. Rich and fawned over by supplicants for my favour. But this other side of me, submissive, lustful, impulsive had recently been the one on top and had thrust me into this situation, here and now.

But as I lifted my gaze, I saw people rushing by, oblivious of what was going on in front of their eyes. The inner rush of adrenalin and excitement, none of it was visible to them: the dampness on my cotton knickers. The buzzing between my thighs. None of it was obvious. Fuck! To them, I was Marta! Or at least some Hispanic cleaner probably on lunch. I placed one foot in front of the other, gradually building up my pace till I was shuffling along the corridor, away from the exit and my car, away from my comfort zone.

Belle De Jour: Vogue Spain 2012

I've used one of the photographs from this fashion editoral to illustrate a story here a while back without fully realizing what it was based on or that it was part of a bigger, 10-page shoot. Not only does it have a properly and stylishly outfitted maid as opposed to some "French maid"-inspired monstrosity, that many such editorials have, it is also based on Luis Bunuel's classic Belle De Jour (1967), a fetishistic masterpiece and, at its core, a social downgrade story, featuring a very young Catherine Deneuve.

To add another lady-to-maid connection, Bunuel also made one of the the four film adaptations of another fetishistic masterpiece, this one with far more obvious maid connotatation - Diary of a Chambermaid (1964) with Jeanne Moreau - now, I'd love to see that made into a fashion spread! Incidentally, I've become a big fan of Bunuel's work long before my interest in lady-to-maid stories and it only recently it dawned on me that, given his work, he must have been quite a fan of such plots as well.

Story: Annabelle's New Role. Part 11.

by Violet Carson

My mind raced as I sat down on the surprisingly empty train. It was so quiet that as the guard checked my ticket he made polite conversation about how much easier it was travelling on a Sunday and it dawned on me how readily I was now being accepted as Rose!

I desperately hoped that after I’d finished my shift, Mark would be home alone as I needed to have a serious talk with him. I needed to get him to understand that working for him was fine, but being at Lucy’s beck and call wasn’t and if he wanted to keep her, then I needed to move on with my life and for the time being at least that would be as Rose. I simply couldn’t comprehend pulling on my old silk underwear and designer clothes any longer. I wanted to disappear from my old life and emerge fully as Rose. I even thought such insane things as if I divorced him with my settlement, would I be able to find some crazy plastic surgeon to actually make me look older. But I quickly pushed those stupid ideas to the back of my mind. I wanted to look older and plain now, but did I really want to look like that for possibly up to another 50 years, probably not! However, somehow I felt I still wasn’t quite living as Rose would and that other than my sore back and knees from all my bending down and scrubbing floors was I genuinely experiencing life as a poor cleaner? The answer was obvious. No I wasn’t. But how exactly could I move this beyond the charade it sometimes appeared to be to really make this become my life?