Author: Renee Lou Dallow ( Bourgeoise Bloomers )

'Bourgeoise Bloomers,' is my blog on classic films and film stars from the 1930s to 1950s which I began in 2012. I also illustrate and paint. So the page, 'Renee Lou's Art And Illustration,' is my little gallery I guess. Sometimes I go by the name of Hybiscus Bloom. My nom du plume.

The Song Of Cicada Wings

On By Renee Lou Dallow ( Bourgeoise Bloomers )In Now and then

An Embarrassing Encounter

Edith remembered back to the day her mother had arrived from Adelaide with baby Madoline. Now it was she bringing a new baby into the house. She felt exactly as her mother had done. Proud and full of love for the new life that she had brought into the world. She looked up and there was her little sister, Maddie, all in white muslin, wearing a little white daisy chain tiara. She was an angel and her magic seemed to envelope them all. She and Rudolpho held hands and were representatives of the united front of heaven.

The month long stay in Brisbane before returning back to New Zealand had gone so fast that Edith had hardly the time to blink. There had been trips to the theatre, sightseeing with Herbert and Sunday church services. Rudolpho, as head choir boy, was sublime leading the choristers in hymns and in the mass. Like his brother Vincent before him he had been given a scholarship. Hopefully his voice would not break as Vincent’s had done and he would go on to the end of his term which was a period of five years. At nine years old he was safe enough his father hoped. Millicent’s voice rang out over the rest of the faithful and there was pure joy in her heart when she sang. Her face was positively radiant with the love of God. At barely fifteen she was now the shining star of the Richardson family. Madoline too, next to Millicent and holding on tightly to her hand, sang with the same gusto. Looking up to watch Millicent’s mouth movements, trying to figure out the words. Every so often Madoline’s pupils would disappear up behind her eyelids and she would blink very fast, but this was only fleeting.

It did seem odd, when after the service, the family joined the rest of the congregation for tea and Millicent became suddenly pious. She was always sending up her brother when he spoke of God and Saints. Yet here she was, an expert on the bible. Edith observed her behaviour with great amusement. She observed Herbert too. All charm and good humour. An honorary Catholic and proud young father, showing off his first son. He was humbly bathing in all the accolades. Funny, she thought, it was almost as if she had no part in it. He was so popular with everyone she almost felt invisible.

When the family arrived back at the house they found Charles and Leona on the sofa in a compromising situation. They both stood up quickly. Their clothes ruffled and their faces flush. Charles suspenders hung about his waist and his shirt was half unbuttoned. His hair too was ruffled. Very unlike Charles who always dressed with military precision.

William Albert was furious. Girls go to your room! Charles what goes on here? Military maneuvers eh? Your excuse for not coming to mass? Seems like you’ve been maneuvering all right. This is not the place for it! Do you hear me?

So sorry Sir
And you… Who might you be? He asked Leona who hung her head in shame.
Leona, Sir.
Got a last name?
Cooper Sir. Leona Cooper.
I’ve heard that name before. I remember you were on the front page of the Argus as I recall.

She’s a friend of Florence. Edith offered.
I see. Shame on you Miss Cooper. Please leave my house at once! William Albert demanded.

Just then Harold returned from the park where he had been waiting for Leona. They had prearranged a luncheon date but Charles had beat him to the finish line telling Leona that Harold wasn’t coming. Now Harold understood everything. Leona rushed past him in tears and Charles was in the midst of being heavily reprimanded. Harold’s day couldn’t have got any better.

Edith felt the need to defend Leona.

Don’t be so hard on her father. It wasn’t her fault. Charles is quite obviously a bit of a lad.

I’ll just take the baby to the nursery. Interrupted Mathilde. I think it’s time for his feed. Come Edith let’s leave them to it. Children you come too.! The three yongest, Millie, Madoline and Rudolpho, reluctantly tagged along behind and were sent to the play room.

Harold, who had stood smouldering in the doorway, smirked at Charles humiliation. You and me! Outside! Right now brother!
Charles smiled. With pleasure.

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Both walked outside into the back yard for a fist fight.

William Albert looked at Herbert, poured two glasses of his best sherry, gave one to his son in law, and together they raised a toast. May the best man win! William laughed.

Of course, Charles had won the fight that day. Harold didn’t stand a chance due to Charles military training. Still he didn’t see himself as a loser at all. It was Charles who had lost face. He’d lost Leona too. As a matter of fact they both had. Leona was her own woman and had led them both on. She didn’t need them anymore. Officer Farthingale had been transferred and she had her own battles to fight. She had only agreed to come to the Richardson house as Charles had assured her that the family would be home straight after church. It would only be a moment anyway, as he had forgotten his wallet. He had shown her a recent training photo and she had sat down to have a close look under the light. Charles had sat down too and made his move. Leona had flirted with him. Charles was a very good looking young man after all. Tall with chiselled features, an aquiline nose and quite astonishing sea blue eyes. She loved his golden honey blonde hair too and felt the need to run her fingers through it just once. When it became obvious, however, that there was no-one home she had got up to leave and that was precisely the moment the Richardsons returned from tea with the congregation. Poor Leona was just as embarrassed as she could be.

Why was it that men thought being a suffragette meant loose morals. Leona, like Florence, was determined to fight on for the cause. This did not make her open slather. She would go to Melbourne, she decided, and join her friend, Florence. Maybe they could both find work with Louisa Lawson as printers. Whatever happened she knew she wanted nothing more to do with either Charles or Harold Richardson.

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Renee Dallow ( Author. )

The Song Of Cicada Wings

On By Renee Lou Dallow ( Bourgeoise Bloomers )In Now and then

Dealing with the bullies

In due course my career will pick up again and J. C. will be knocking on our door. Young George Musgrove seems to be doing well for himself and as you know Nell Stewart is here now in one of his shows.

Speaking of Nell, I must speak to you, on a matter concerning this lovely one here. Mathilde confided, kissing Madoline on the cheek.

Mathilde made sure her husband was seated comfortably on the sofa with a glass of sherry and some savoury treats, brought out from the pantry, including various cheeses, cold meats, jellies, relishes and little home made mince pies. She then proceeded to tell him of all that had happened in his absence and the terrible illness which had again tried to take Madoline. An illness that they could no longer pretend did not exist.

It was decided that Madoline should be sent o Melbourne hospital for checks. She would spend two weeks there under observation. While these tests took place to see if there was anything that could be done for her, poor Madoline would be induced with things she was allergic toin order to monitor responses.

Everything from Friars Balsam for the fevers, to Tincture Of Myrrh, was administered intravenously to stop the spasms. Finally they resorted to potassium bromide which had an immediate effect. The child was pronounced cured. All could go on as planned in the Richardson household. Still, knowing the stigma that others would attribute to his youngest daughter, William Albert resolved to keep her out of the public eye as much as possible. To be sure it was absolutely certain that she was out of danger. It was not until that day four years later when out picking, or stealing, cherries with Rudolpho, that she succumbed again to an epileptic fit. By that time the rest of the family had resolved to keep the incident a secret from the head of the family. They did not want the poor child being sent back to the hospital yet again for more tests. The bright eyed energetic four year old had, that first time, returned from the hospital refusing to speak to anyone and completely lacking in energy. It was not until the first day of the new school term for Rudolpho and Millicent that Maddie, whom Edith had taken along in the pram, spoke again.

I go to school too? Maddie asked.

Maybe darling when you are older, Edith answered, fearing that her baby sister may never be allowed to attend school.

Arriving home, Madoline was all excitement again, at the prospect of going to school and followed her mother around the house eagerly awaiting answers to her questions.

When I go to school mummy?

When you are old enough, Mathilde replied, as she dusted the figurines on either side of the mantelpiece.

How old?

Oh about six or seven I should think. Now go and wash your hands before lunch. Did you take your medicine today?

Yes mummy.
Good girl! Now, off you go.

Mathilde hoped and prayed with all her heart that the day would come when she really could send Madoline to school. Why shouldn’t her daughter have the same chances in life? Why should she be kept out of the public eye? It seemed to Mathilde that this kind of intolerance toward her daughter had no rhyme or reason. People were always too ready to ostracise those who were different and it all started in the playground.

That afternoon, Charles, on his way home, had lost his heart.

He had seen her from the window but had averted his eyes as she boarded the train. He did not want to appear fresh. The last time he had been caught staring at a girl his mother had slapped him with her fan. The humiliation in front of his friends had been complete. He had been way too obvious about it, Mathilde had told him, back then. Still Charles was no coward. With his mother nowhere in sight he could stare as long as he wanted. He decided that the benefits far outweighed the risks. His eyes followed her as she moved down the carriage in search of a seat. She was smarty dressed in a lovely cream fluted skirt and a tightly fitted silken blouse which caressed her figure.Her chestnut hair was swept up under a wide brimmed hat. As she found her seat Charles was ready to make his move and board the train too when there was a tap on his shoulder. He turned half expecting to see the ticket officer. The train closed its doors and moved off the platform. Millicent stood in front of him. The look on her face was strained.

Come quick Charlie! There’s a fight at school. It’s Rudolpho. They’re hurting him!

Reluctantly Charlie pulled himself away. The image of the incredibly stylish creature he had just seen, still disappearing into the distance, under a giant puff of steam.

He followed Millicent to the school gates where there was indeed a fight brewing. The dust was flying as fists were pumping. The voices of the schoolboy rabble were egging their friends on to victory. There in the midst of all the commotion was Rudolpho on the ground with a boy standing over him ready to lay a punch.

So what’s happening Alfonso? You been picking fights again? He said as he walked over to his brother and helped him up whilst at the same time holding back the aggressor with one arm outstretched. As soon as Rudolpho was on his feet Charles had lifted the other boy by the front of his shirt and had turned him round to face him.

What’s all this then eh? Charles asked.

The boy, on seeing Charlies uniform through the dust, was shaking. The others were beginning to file out of the school yard.

Charles looked the boy up and down like he was one of Rudolpho’s worms. Looks like its just you and me. Wanna punch me too? C’mon lets see how good y’are. No?

He turned the boy around and seeing his friends waiting, biffed him one, just for good measure Then slapped him on the rump in clear view. The ogling throng sniggered accordingly. With that he grabbed his brothers hand, winked at his sister, and off they went toward home. Millicent was in complete awe of Charles and grinned back at him as they opened the squeaky gate. Mathilde opened the door to find the dusty threesome and shook her head, dreading the amount of washing she would have to do.

It’s A Wonderful Life- Genesian Theatre Co

On By Renee Lou Dallow ( Bourgeoise Bloomers )In Now and then1 Comment

Kindness goes a long way.The first scene of ‘It’s A Wonderful Life’ is set in heaven with the angels looking down on earth. Their focus is on one George Bailey. A young man with great promise for a bright future. The angels know that he will need help and decide that he is worthy of their intervention. George Bailey lives in a small town and, as a boy, has big dreams of leaving for good as soon as he grows up. He has big dreams and wants to go to college.  His father is a banker who runs a small loans office helping the people of the town keep their heads above water.  When his father dies suddenly George  is forced to take over the business to prevent the bigger banker, Mr.Potter, from taking a monopoly on the town and forcing people to default on their mortgages. George’s dreams of a college education are shelved.

So George marries his small town girl, builds up his small town business, provides affordable housing for the towns folk and even puts his brother through college.  As his family grows George is sucked in deeper and deeper.  The big bank tries to buy him out but George stands firm. Just when Bailey’s loans office starts to make a profit disaster strikes and the big banker gets the money. George has a breakdown and runs away from home. Clarissa, an angel second class trying to earn her wings comes to the rescue.  While standing on a bridge in the snow, contemplating suicide, George meets Clarissa, who puts him straight by showing him all the wonderful things that would never have been accomplished but for his existence.  George at last realises the value of his life and of his influence on those around him.

He has everything.  The love of his family, the loyalty of the towns people, who actually make a collection for George. In fact they manage to donate the equivalent sum to the amount that’s been stolen. They want to give because George is a giver.  When we give we receive and that is the true meaning of Christmas.

The Genesians have always been good at bringing old classics to life and this one, originally a Frank Capra film,  is poignant and meaningful. The company has given it their all. From the clever set evoking the country charm of  George’s home town of Bedford Falls to the soft moody lighting reflecting dreams and reality in heaven and on earth.  A sterling performance from Oliver MacFadyen who seems to have taken a few notes from Jimmy Stewart. A sensitive and heartfelt performance right the way through.  Amahlia Day as Mary Bailey is well cast as George’s kind understanding wife. Equally sensitive but also pretty resilient just like George. A match made in heaven. 

Have a wonderful Christmas

Give, give and give some more.

By Renee Dallow

Bourgeoise Reviews And Banter.

The Past Tense Of Youth

On By Renee Lou Dallow ( Bourgeoise Bloomers )In Now and then

The Island Off Shore

Then one night, as we ate dinner beneath the pale radiance of the moon and gazed out at the endless ocean before us from our table for two on the shore, Gerald had told me that he had one more surprise in store. We would be returning to Istanbul via the Princes islands. He wanted to show me their potential. Wouldn’t I love a holiday home there? Close to Istanbul but not too close? I had never before heard him speak of owning land in Turkey and was very surprised and a little alarmed I must confess. I had a vision of one of the islands and a great fear suddenly came over me. There was truth on the island. A truth that I did not want to face. Something to do with Emine. Something to do with a child. A lost child. What if this were my child? Was this what Rana wanted?

Gerald spoke of building a two storey villa with a roofed porch supported by columns at the entrances on both floors. A grand stairway would connect the two storeys arching just above sea level on the side of a cliff. There was room on the island for development he said and many Istanbulites were moving there to get away from the bustle of city life. No cars were allowed on the island and it would be easy to get around he told me. The more excited he became the more I flinched.


What if Rana had actually survived the long swim from Topkapi? What if the islands triggered Gerald’s memories? What if I lost him to her again? I knew that I must not allow my fears to control me and that I must let our story play out. Maybe the answers were there on those islands and maybe I would have to leave myself open to whatever was in store. Could it be that this had been the plan all along?

That night as I lay tossing and turning in our bed I dreamed of a child. The child was calling and begging to be born as it had not been given the chance of life. The next moment I was in a church high on top of a hill praying at the alter with Rana’s voice in the background singing that same haunting song. I awoke to find Gerald lying beside me caressing my cheek. “Only a dream.” he soothed. I looked up into his eyes and searched for an answer. ” Rahatla my darling.” he said and then held me until I drifted off to sleep once more. I had become increasingly aware of the many coincidences responsible f0r bringing us together and maybe this would be just one more. Like Nancy Drew on a mission to solve the latest mystery I prepared myself mentally for the task at hand. I smiled and gazed lovingly into his dazzling blue eyes when he mentioned the islands again the next morning ” Splendid.” I cooed. “When do we start? “

The very next day we set sail from Bodrum to the Princes Islands completely bypassing Istanbul. I had fortified myself with two glasses of champagne and was in an elated state of calm by the time we reached port. We landed at Buyukada. The largest of the nine islands in the Princes group. We were greeted by lots of lovely houses in various colours built in Ottoman times with bougainvillaea trellises climbing the balconies.

There were palms and red pine trees lining the foreshore providing shaded alcoves where people could sit on park benches and watch the ships come in. The island was truly charming. We took a carriage and made our way to the appropriately named ‘Hotel Splendid’. I had temporarily forgotten my misgivings and concentrated on the sheer joy of us just being together. I flirted shamelessly with my husband all the way. Many disapproving eyes were upon us as locals watched us pass them.Public displays of affection were frowned upon.

As the carriage driver manoeuvred us through the dirt roads and tiny streets , devoid of any traffic other than human, I felt as if I was on the way to to Topkapi Palace yet again. I had to pinch myself to make sure it was all real. I pinched Gerald too just for good measure. ” Hey what do you think you’re doing?” he winced.

” Just checking you’re still here.” I laughed. ” You are a strange one. Of course I’m still here. Where else would I be?” I smiled at him … ” Oh I don’t know somewhere I can’t reach you perhaps.”
I smiled innocently while pretending to concentrate on a particularly beautiful white house and it’s stunning front garden. ” Now you’re being morbid. That’s not like you my darling.” He took me in his arms and kissed me tenderly on the lips. I kept my eyes open and watched the carriage driver over his shoulder who couldn’t resist staring. I wondered how he could look at us and control the horses at the same time.

He seemed to understand and turned his face away just in time to avoid a collision with another carriage heading in the opposite direction. The drivers hurled abuse at each other and we broke into laughter. Very soon our driver was laughing too and that was how we arrived at our destination. All three of us in the mood for revelry. It had been a light hearted foray into strange territory thus far and I hoped we could remain in good spirits for the duration.