The world’s oldest dress: Archaeologists have carbon-dated this linen dress (yes, it looks like a shirt but the bottom half is missing, based on other younger examples that have been found) with elegant pleated yoke and sleeves and a v-neck found in an Egyptian tomb to somewhere between 5,100 and 5,400 years old, making it the oldest known piece of tailored, sewn clothing. The garment’s story is a fascinating one: originally found in a tomb at the cemetery at Tarkhan, it was sent to the Petrie Museum at the University College of London entwined in a bunch of rags and ignored for decades...until conservators got around to examining it in 1977. Hmm...now if only there were fashion magazines from ancient Egypt. Ahkenaton’s Repository, anyone? ☺ (photo Petrie Museum of Egyptian Archaeology, University College London)
Henry VIII needed better head
gear: Dr. Arash Salardini and colleagues
at Yale’s School of Medicine have speculated in an article in the Journal of Clinical Neuroscience that Henry
VIII’s famously bad temper and tyrannical behavior in his later years may have
been due to repeated traumatic brain injuries in his youth.
Famously fit and athletic as a
young man, Henry was an avid jouster among other things, and suffered some
spectacular falls and plenty of being thumped about as a result...just like
today’s football players. In his later years, Henry went from being the ideal
Renaissance prince, cultured and courtly, to a cruel, capricious tyrant,
suffering blinding headaches and sudden, unexplained rages. Historians have
attributed this change to many things: tertiary syphilis, chronic infection,
diabetes, and kidney disease...but this new diagnosis makes bunches more sense.
Oh Sir Walter, you tricksy
fellow: It seems that sock puppetry is not a modern phenomenon. Two hundred
years ago, a well-known author was engaging in practices that today would have
gotten him banned by Amazon.
Sir Walter Scott, whose poems
and books helped birth the Highland Revival, was also an important writer and
reviewer for the Quarterly Review, an important and widely read journal of the
day. His reviews of such books as Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, Jane Austen’s Emma,
and Byron’s Childe Harold’s Pilgrimage
helped launch their popularity. But he also used his position as a respected
reviewer to thoroughly (and anonymously) lambaste one of his own books, a short
story collection called Tales of My
Landlord, which he’d published under the pseudonym Jedediah Cleishbotham. But he didn’t stop there; after calling the
work unoriginal and lame, he speculated about the identity of the author of the
Tales, going so far as to suggest not
only himself ("the author of Waverley"), but his own brother Thomas. The
result? Huge sales, because everyone wanted to see just how bad the book was and
if they could guess who the author was.
Naughty, naughty! ☺
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