Pulling myself up by my bootlaces - Regency edition

Those of you who follow my costuming adventures know how much I love American Duchess boots and shoes.  I didn't know about the company right when it started in 2011, because I hadn't yet begun doing historical costuming in earnest at that point, but I did start building my historic footwear collection in 2014 with a pair of Nankeens, which were their answer to the ubiquitous hard-wearing cotton boots you often see in fashion plates of walking ensembles from the early 1800s.  I followed that up with a pair of Highburys, a dyeable white sateen flat Regency slipper, and shortly after that, I bought a pair of Virginias, a slashed brown leather Elizabethan sandal type shoe (we were still going to Renaissance Faires just about every year at this point).  Sadly all of these styles have been long discontinued, but I still have them all, and look back fondly as the purchases I made to begin really filling out my historical wardrobe from head to toe.

Before I began to focus on making clothes from the 18th century for my Abigail Adams impression, it's safe to say that, other than vaguely historically accurate Renaissance Faire outfits, the costuming era I was most inspired by was the Regency.  I read every piece of literature by and about Jane Austen that I could possibly get my hands on, and I was becoming more and more confident in my sewing abilities beyond making up a Simplicity pattern, so it was only natural that I should be drawn to the gowns, the balls, the teas, and the camaraderie offered by local Jane Austen Society of North America chapters.  As my interest in creating a Regency wardrobe grew, and as American Duchess began expanding and improving and broadening their offerings, I basically lost all self-control and just kept building up my collection, until it had reached epic proportions:

That's ten pairs of shoes, just for the 1600s through the early 1800s.  Granted, the well-worn black wool buckled Dunmores for the 1770s (center front row) have definitely done their time, which is why there's a replacement pair next to them.  I LOVE these shoes, so I made sure to buy a second pair before they were discontinued, so those kind of don't count.  Right?  

ANYWAY.

The Nankeens and their brown leather cousins, the Hartfields (pictured right behind my trusty Dunmores in the photo above) are absolutely beautiful boots, comfortable, very flattering on the foot, and super duper close to period examples.  Some of the below images are shoes that American Duchess used as inspiration, others I found just by doing a Google search.

© Virginia Review

© Museum of London

© Victoria & Albert Museum

Apparently, having two pairs of Regency boots wasn't enough for me.  When American Duchess came out with the Emmas and Mansfields, I was absolutely, positively smitten.  

Here are the Emma half-boots, which I got in red (photo from American Duchess blog):

Here are the black Mansfields (photo from the American Duchess blog):

And the green Mansfields (photo from the American Duchess Facebook page):

Can you see why I was smitten??  They're just so beautiful - plus, they fill a niche in costuming that you can't find anywhere else, and they add a lot of versatility to outfits.  And yes, I got both the black and green Mansfields.

As I've mentioned in a recent post on Instagram, and in this video I did with Rebecca Olds of Timesmith Dressmaking for CoCoVid, my modern life is basically all purple, but in my historical sewing, red and green feature pretty heavily.  So, these boots go with a lot of what I already have.  Not that people in the 18th and 19th centuries were terribly concerned about everything matching - fashion plates tend to show people piling on the accessories with very little attention paid to whether or not the shoes match the shawl, or the gloves match the parasol, or whatever.  So having footwear in lots of colors allows for some freedom in just going wildly off-the-charts with wacky combinations!

One thing that I noticed about the Emmas and Mansfields, in contrast to the Highburys and Nankeens, was that they came with flat shoelaces rather than cord shoelaces.  Now, some extant shoes in museums have narrow ribbons or cords as shoelaces, and some have flat shoelaces, but it's really kind of impossible to know whether any of them are actually original to the shoes.  Museums often receive shoes without any kind of lace or tie, so they have to improvise.  And you'd have to squint really hard at the teeny tiny shoes on fashion plates and portraits to figure how people actually tied up their shoes!  When manufacturing historical footwear based on historical styles, American Duchess sometimes just has to use what's available rather than being able to go for strict accuracy.  By the way, I am by no means implying that I know more about historical footwear than a company that's been doing this for almost 10 years!  In fact, I checked with Lauren Stowell to let her know that I wanted to write a blog post about this process, but I was worried that she might think I was being critical of their design process. She said that she loves it when people personalize American Duchess shoes, because there's only so much you can do when they are produced in large quantities in a factory.  So just in case anyone was wondering, this post has her blessing!

For my personal aesthetic, I tend to prefer the look of cord-style shoelaces for historical boots, both because you do often see them on museum extants, and because on my feet, which are pretty big (size 8) for my 5'3" frame, narrower cord shoelaces help give the shoe a little bit of a smaller profile.  So, I went ahead and bought waxed cotton cord from Renaissance Fabrics and these really pretty pointed aglets (shoelace tips) from a seller on Etsy called Lua Media.  There's a whole saga about the aglets (nothing to do with the Etsy seller, they were lovely!! - just me being my usual scatterbrained self) but suffice it to say that once I got them, laced the shoes up with the cords and crimped the aglets onto the laces, I was really happy with them!  They definitely make a difference in the overall appearance of the shoes, and it just so happened that the green and red cord ended up being pretty close matches to the shoes themselves!

Here are the Emmas, with the shoelace that came with the shoe on my right foot (which is on the left side of the picture!) and my cord lace with the aglets on the other foot.

Here are the green Mansfields, same configuration.And here are the black Mansfields, same configuration.

 

So that's my long and involved deep dive into the process of personalizing my American Duchess boots with cord shoelaces that I made!  I hope this was enjoyable to read, and if you've been inspired to do any sort of personalizing with your shoes, I'd love to hear about it!
 

Inspired By: the LACMA gown - Part 1

Facebook Memories (which is a really handy tool!) tells me that it has been exactly one year since I started patterning and draping this gown.  Of course, I had been thinking about it and dreaming about making it and formulating plans for several years before that, but I first put pencil to muslin to begin working on the actual shapes for the gown on May 12th, 2019. 

I wish I could pinpoint the moment I learned about this gown and fell in love with it.  I was living in Washington State when LACMA debuted their "Fashioning Fashion" exhibit, and I believe I was given the gorgeously detailed exhibit book for Christmas that year.

Here is the gown in question:

And here is some information about the provenance of the gown and its style details, at least what I've been able to gather from the museum website, the textile curators I've spoken with, and other pictures I've found of it online.

The museum's description states that it is from France, ca. 1785.  The textile is a "silk plain weave and silk twill," and it's designated a robe a l'anglaise, which is a term for a gown that has a back bodice cut in one with the skirt, with the rest of the skirt panels stitched together and then pleated onto the bodice.  It's a round gown, so the front part of the skirt is separate from the bodice and acts as a petticoat, tying around the waist to the back, with the ties hidden under the bodice.  The front bodice pieces have strips of eyelets sewn to their linings that can be laced up to hold the fronts in place slightly overlapped, and then they are pinned together, but the lacing is what bears the strain rather than the pins.

What's interesting about this gown is that if you look closely at the bodice (and there are images that allow you to zoom closer in on the details here) you can see that there are, for lack of a better term, "flaps" that come around from the side and end halfway across the bust.  They don't meet at the center, they just kind of stop midway across the bust.  There's a style that came into fashion around the time of this gown's given date called a "zone" front, so named because there is a "zone" (from the bottom of the bodice to about the sternum) that is one fabric, and then flaps in a different fabric that are either pointed or rounded that meet at the center at the top of the bodice.  But that's not exactly what this is; there are those who believe that it's evidence of the gown having been altered at some point, but I'm not certain that's the case.  Either way, it's a unique feature that demonstrates that this gown is right on the cusp of a change in what was fashionable, and it was either updated to reflect those new trends, or it was done this way as a kind of compromise.

Even though I have still never actually seen this gown in person, it's easy to see that it has a lot of presence and impact, and of course I was drawn to it because of the striking purple and white stripes (purple being my favorite color!).  But the other thing that really started to get me thinking seriously about trying to make my own version of this gown was its date and place of provenance: France, 1785.  Since Abigail Adams is my historical persona, I'm always thinking about what her wardrobe would have actually consisted of at various times in her life. 

In spring of 1778, John Adams (accompanied by his son John Quincy), sailed to Europe as "Minister Plenipotentiary."  His first posting was ostensibly to join Dr. Franklin in France and negotiate an alliance between that country and the newly formed United States.  Unfortunately, by the time he arrived, the treaty had already been signed, but he remained and spent some time in Spain and in Amsterdam seeking financial support for his fledgling country before finally being appointed Ambassador to the Court of St. James in London.  After many years of pleading from John, Abigail finally joined him in Europe in 1784.  More specifically, she joined him in Paris in 1784.  So in the year 1785, she was living with him in France, and she had learned pretty quickly that being the wife of a lawyer, farmer and Delegate to the Continental Congress was very different from being the wife of a diplomat.  She deplored that she would never be completely up to date with French fashions. 

There is no documentation specifically linking Abigail to this gown (in fact I don't know if there is any information about who owned and/or wore it) but it's certainly reasonable to assume she had a gown (or several!) similar to this style.  She may not have been inclined to wear something this intricately patterned and showy; I gather from her letters and wills and inventories that she seemed to prefer simpler styles in plain woven fabrics.  But we definitely know how much she enjoyed shopping.  The Adamses' friendship with Jefferson was solidified in France; Jefferson even left his daughter Mary ("Polly") in Abigail's care for a considerable amount of time.  When the Adamses had relocated to London and Jefferson remained in Paris, Abigail sent letters to Jefferson giving directions for him to order her and Nabby several pairs of silk shoes, trusting him to know which were the most fashionable colors.

The next post on this dress will dive into the process of making it, starting with that amazing fabric!!

My thoughts on "Emma" (2020)

Let me just start with this: I'm a Jane Austen fanatic to the point that I have read every novel and letter and fragment of juvenilia approximately a bajillion times, and I have seen every available film and TV adaptation of all of her works approximately a bajillion times.  I get together with friends dressed head-to-toe in Regency fashions to attend garden parties and strolling parties and balls and teas and the whole spiel.  When I watch a new adaptation of a Jane Austen novel, I am nitpicking and studying and weighing EVERYTHING against the other adaptations of that novel as well as the original source material.  So be warned - this is going to be a deep dive, an extremely detailed critique.  If that's not your thing, that's okay!  I'm really doing this to organize my thoughts for myself and my fellow obsessives.

Here I really should add that my wonderful husband helped me talk through all of my varied reactions to this movie - we discussed it as a standalone adaptation, as compared to the other adaptations of "Emma," and as contrasted to the rest of Austen's work - because he's knowledgeable enough about this to be able to really dig into the weeds with me, and patient enough to actually do it!

My initial thoughts about this interpretation of Emma when the very first trailers started trickling out were as follows:

1) Emma's hair looks like ramen;
2) Bill Nighy is playing Mr. Woodhouse as energetic and pedantic, which is not at all how he's portrayed in the book;
3) Everyone and everything is moving as though they have all been very carefully and strictly choreographed;
4) The men's collars are absurdly high;
5) Miranda Hart is bang-on perfect for Miss Bates and she will probably make all of this not matter.

That's literally exactly the substance of my first impressions, and in that exact order!

Now that I've seen it, obviously, there's a lot more to talk about and unpack.

First of all, the costumes.  I stand by my initial reaction to the men's collars.  They were positively ridiculous.  There's fashionable, and then there's literally impeding one's movement and vision.  Collars like that would only have been worn by the dandiest dandy who ever dandied about London, not a country squire and a country vicar.  If you can't turn your head to speak to the person next to you without your collar smushing into your face, YOUR👏COLLAR👏IS👏TOO👏DAMN👏HIGH.

As an example of how high collars actually should be, here's Colin Firth in the 1995 adaptation of "Pride and Prejudice."  Mr. Darcy is much, much wealthier than Mr. Knightley and Mr. Elton combined, spends a lot of his time in London, and yet...

(The reason he's not looking at Lizzy is because he's arrogant, not because his collar is in the way!!!)

Then we have Mr. Elton:

And Mr. Knightley

Was this enough to ruin this adaptation for me?  No.  Was it distracting as hell?  Yes!!!

Speaking of Johnny Flynn as Mr. Knightley, he's definitely not "my" Mr. Knightley (every Janeite has one).  I didn't much care for the shouting matches between he and Emma.  She might shout, yes, but Mr. Knightley should have command of his temper and not let himself get caught up in it with her.  That's the contrast between them - she's impulsive, he's contemplative.  Having them squabble like siblings doesn't make them seem more like equals, it makes him seem unsteady.  And while yes, Mr. Knightley softens and loosens up a bit in the course of the story, it's not because Emma gets him so riled up as to ruin his composure, it's because he realizes that the reason he is so critical of her is that he loves her and wants her to live up to her full potential rather than squandering her notable talents.  Furthermore, Johnny Flynn just seemed sort of hangdog and petulant a lot of the time, rather than quietly observant.  I guess he's the right age for the part (~36) but for me, being the right age for the part doesn't necessarily mean that actors *look* the right age for the part (see: Johnny Lee Miller of the perpetual babyface).
     
Something else I didn't understand was how this adaptation characterized Donwell Abbey itself.  What was with all of the furniture being covered with sheets??  The only explanation I can come up with is that he didn't need them for his bed, because he was literally never there, instead crashing on one of the many unused sofas at Hartfield.  That also seems like a reasonable explanation for his appearance always being sort of rumpled and unkempt (despite having valets who are shown literally dressing him from the skin out).  I mean, could his hair have been any more wrong for the Regency??  It was much too long and blowsy and almost rakish.  Maybe it was to make him look careless, but again, Mr. Knightley in the book is the epitome of careful - literally, full of care for his estate, for Emma, and for Mr. Woodhouse.

The book explains that Emma's home, Hartfield was "...but a sort of notch in the Donwell Abbey estate, to which all the rest of Highbury belonged."  The master of such a large manor has to be a responsible landlord and farmer, which means being PRESENT and AVAILABLE at one's home in case any of the tenants or landholders had business with him.  And one of them does!  Robert Martin doesn't have to consult Mr. Knightley about proposing to Harriet, but he does so out of respect for his landlord's opinion.  In the movie, it seems like Knightley has just kind of shut down shop at Donwell and left a card saying, "I'll be at or near Hartfield if anyone needs me."  What's Robert Martin supposed to do, wander up hill and down dale until he finds him??

Moving on...

Apart from those collars, the costumes were probably the best thing about the adaptation.   They were clearly intended to be a major aspect of the storytelling, and I definitely appreciated that.  I almost gasped out loud when I actually saw the back of Emma's yellow pelisse (the long, high-waisted coat she wears in the movie poster).  The fan pleating was STUNNING and just so sharp and elegant.  The costumer, Alexandra Byrne, created an explosion of color and texture and got so many of the minor details just right.

But as much as I love and have studied Regency fashions, I'm not the best person for this particular aspect of film critique.  Alden Tullis O'Brien, a dear friend of mine and a costume and textile history expert, has done a full blog post just focusing on the costumes in this film, which I highly recommend reading.  She goes into which costumes are reproductions of actual gowns from the period, and which ones are composites of fashion plates and extants, the whole nine yards (I promise that's not a fabric pun...)

Here's her post: https://curatorscurio.com/2020/01/14/movie-costumes-emma-2020/

Unfortunately, my initial reaction to Emma's hair proved accurate.  It totally, 100% looks like ramen.  I don't know why she had itty bitty tight little ringlets and everyone else got the larger, soft curls that were more prevalent in the period.  Maybe it was to set her apart somehow.  But mostly it just made me nostalgic for college.

A few of the characters (notably, Harriet Smith and Jane Fairfax) had finger waves, which was completely bizarre.  Maybe it was to set them apart as "poor" or "dependent?"  I'm honestly not sure.

1823-skidoo!!

Speaking of things that I can only guess were intended to set apart "genteel" from "poor," the music in the film was pretty awful.  I would have to look at a soundtrack list to figure out what the hell was going on in the minds of the music team, but you know what I can say with certainty wasn't around in Regency England?

AMERICAN SHAPE-NOTE HYMNS.

OH. MY. GOD.

That's all I'm going to say about that because it just gets me too worked up.

As for the portrayals of the different characters:

Emma
Jane Austen herself said that Emma was a character "whom no one but myself will much like," and Anya Taylor-Joy's Emma was decidedly not someone the audience could really sympathize with or warm to.  One thing I really appreciated about this film was that it emphasized Emma's isolation and the sameness and monotony of her everyday existence.  In a miniseries, it's possible to cover the source material very comprehensively and really draw out the details, but that's not always the case with a film adaptation.  With this film, however, Autumn de Wilde squeezed out every spare moment she could and really took those moments to focus on the characters in between the action - walking toward each other, sitting down together, looking in each other's direction, etc.  It really helped to demonstrate just how much downtime there was to fill in the lives of the Regency gentry.  No wonder Emma feels the need to make matches and arrange everyone's lives for them - there's nothing to do!

In talking with my husband about this adaptation (which he didn't see, by the way) we realized that Emma is the only Austen heroine who doesn't venture beyond the confines of her village at all, neither before nor during the action of the story.  The only exception, as far as the reader knows, is the honeymoon she and Mr. Knightley take to the seaside.  Before that, her life is completely wrapped up in managing the household, caring for her father, visiting and providing for the genteel poor and the destitute in town out of duty and...that's about it.  Miss Taylor's marriage is the first thing in her life that really brings about significant change, because she can no longer count on her as a companion and source of conversation and employment (the Regency term for "having something to do").  Without Miss Taylor, Emma is pretty much stuck at home, pacing around like a caged lion.  But because she is clever, she wants to be busy and useful, and so she lights upon Harriet Smith as a person with whom she can be busy, and to whom she can be useful.  Anya Taylor-Joy certainly portrays Emma's elegance, sense of her own cleverness and superiority. and the belief that whatever she does is above reproof.  It's an interesting casting choice because she's so pixie-ish and otherworldly, not at all what I would think of as a typical Regency beauty, but her big eyes and overall somewhat youthful appearance does help remind the audience that even at 20, Emma is still very sheltered and has a great deal to learn.

Harriet Smith
Mia Goth was sufficiently deferential and admiring of Emma, but my problem was that I just didn't see what Emma saw in her.  Harriet is introduced to Emma's notice by the schoolmistress Mrs. Goddard, and it's explicitly stated in the book that Emma is interested in meeting Harriet on account of her beauty.  Harriet is described as"a very pretty girl, and her beauty happened to be of a sort which Emma particularly admired. She was short, plump and fair, with a fine bloom, blue eyes, light hair, regular features, and a look of great sweetness." While one imagines that Emma wouldn't want to select as her protege someone whose beauty outshines her own, there has to be something that Emma latches on to, and I have to say, that didn't come across with this casting decision.  Harriet was kind of whiny and put-upon, rather than naive and optimistic.  And this is another directing issue, but I didn't understand why, at the end, she accused Emma of wanting Knightley for herself (Harriet doesn't possess that kind of "penetration," as Austen would say) and also threw in Emma's face the fact that she had ruined her chances with Robert Martin.  It was jarring for Harriet to suddenly have such insight into what had really happened and what Emma's true motivations were.

Mr. Woodhouse
"Sprightly" is not a word one should associate with Mr. Woodhouse, but here we are.

https://media1.tenor.co/images/6de40221ec1a07cea38f09782d46e4ca/tenor.gif?itemid=15666661&fbclid=IwAR2PQDjnwrH8JKgWYeCF2WGiX-8cf9polBv93Fx7g6zLUxOyYXxG-g80wpU

I'm sorry, but yes, it did still bother me that Bill Nighy came rushing down the stairs and landed with a flourish at the bottom on the morning of Miss Taylor's wedding and resolutely gathering everyone to leave.  That's an event he would have to be dragged to kicking and screaming!  Complaining about Mr. Elton's pronunciation of "innocence" does not a valetudinarian make.  I mean, yes, he did fret about "the draughts" once or twice, and fuss about what other people were eating occasionally, and he's shown with a veritable citadel of folding screens placed around him at the end (with Emma and Knightley seizing the opportunity by snogging in the same room??  YUCK!).  I thought I would like Bill Nighy more as I got to see more of him than just what was shown in the trailer, but he was just not the Mr. Woodhouse from the book.  And the relationship between him and Emma has to be really loving and solicitous, from both of them.  He kind of seemed indifferent to her, and she to him.  I was extremely surprised that I started welling up as he walked her down the aisle for her wedding, because Bill Nighy did a wonderful job of showing Mr. Woodhouse's sadness at yet another change to his settled way of life - but where was that affection and concern for her during the whole two hours of the movie??

Mr. Elton
I think Autumn de Wilde conflated Mr. Elton and Mr. Collins.  That's the only explanation I can think of for how *smarmy* Josh O'Connor made him.  Mr. Elton is supposed to be overly gallant, always dropping compliments to the ladies, but he's not supposed to be creepy.  Self-important, yes - he believes Emma to be encouraging his suit and believes that he is worthy of her wealth - but the suggestive eyebrow-waggling was a bit much.  I did like the showiness of the music box frame he got for Harriet's portrait.  That was pretty silly.  And the fact that it wasn't actually mechanized to open when he clapped, but the servants having to do the actual reveal?  Pretty clever.  Which brings me to...

The Servants
This is one of the adaptations that really hits home just how much drudgery it took to uphold the lifestyle of the gentry.  The ever-present servants in this adaptation were a very nice touch, right there when something needed to be brought in or taken away, appearing as if by magic and then disappearing when no longer necessary (part of that highly stylized and precise choreography I mentioned up above).  And as this adaptation makes extremely clear, the servants are there to do their work, not to provide companionship.  Emma and her father are surrounded by a veritable army of valets and grooms and maids, but they are still isolated and lonely.  I particularly want to highlight the death glare that one of the maids gave to Mr. Elton when he unceremoniously threw off his scarf and it hit her square in the face.  That was pure gold.    

Mrs. Elton
I think my biggest issue with Mrs. Elton is that the inhabitants of Highbury only learn that Mr. Elton is married because Mrs. Elton shows up in church one day.  What????  There were letters!  Everyone knew about it well before he brought her home!   Grrr...

Anyway, this was one of the characters who unfortunately got short shrift, in more ways than one.  I loved her over-the-top and early-adopter whackadoodle 1830s hairstyles, but she's the interloper everyone is supposed to be put off by, and she almost wasn't...insufferable enough??  All we got from her was that she called Mr. Knightley "Knightley" and talked about Maple Grove once or twice.  Oh, and she offered to have one of her servants collect Jane Fairfax's letters, and that was it.  No taking Jane under her wing, no insisting on helping her apply for governess positions, nothing!   Jane had no real reason to leave the Donwell party early.  This adaptation really took the bite out of Mrs. Elton, and that was a loss.

Speaking of which...

Jane Fairfax and Frank Churchill
Where was the mystery?  Where was the intrigue??  No alphabet game, no Perry's carriage, just the pianoforte and a few references to Weymouth.  There was nothing to raise Mr. Knightley's suspicions about Frank and Jane that he could warn Emma about!

Side note - my daughter (who's 6, and came to see the movie with me and knows the main story of all of Jane Austen's novels) noticed that the actors playing Frank Churchill and Mr. Elton look like they could be brothers.  And she's right!

Mr. and Mrs. John Knightley
Yes, Isabella is supposed to be the daughter who is most like her father - fancying herself and everyone else ill all the time - and yes, John Knightley is supposed to be rather brusque and standoffish.  But my goodness, this adaptation made them SO unpleasant and snipish to each other and the rest of the family.  It really makes their marriage appear to be an absolute misery for both of them.  Which it's not supposed to be!!  The whole point is that they are a couple who are not only well-suited by being neighbors and friends, but they have found happiness together (they have a veritable gaggle of children, you wouldn't expect people who hate each other's company to keep on procreating).  Moreover, the whole point of George Knightley going away to London is that he is trying to remove himself from Emma's company because although he is extremely jealous of Frank Churchill, he is trying to do the right thing by giving way, and hoping that he will grow indifferent to her.  But he stays with John and Isabella, and her resemblance to Emma and THEIR HAPPY MARRIAGE drive him home again to throw himself into her arms!!  The way they're played in this version, it's a wonder Mr. Knightley doesn't write marriage off completely.

Miss Bates
Oh, Miranda Hart, you are always perfect.  And yet so underused!!  Autumn de Wilde had a gem in her hands and placed it in such a paltry setting as to dim its shine.  Miranda Hart could have run circles around everyone else with this role if she'd just been given free rein!  Oh, and if you have any doubts about Miranda Hart's acting abilities, since she's so well known for comedy, you can rest assured that she was positively devastating in the Box Hill scene.  She just shrank and was so visibly wounded by Emma's words.  Although I gotta say, I took some issue with the line given to Emma.

Here's how it goes in the book, after Mr. Churchill tells everyone they must share "either one thing very clever, be it prose or verse, original or repeated, two things moderately clever, or three things very dull indeed."

Miss Bates replies with, "Oh! very well...then I need not be uneasy. 'Three things very dull indeed.' That will just do for me, you know. I shall be sure to say three dull things as soon as ever I open my mouth, shan't I?  (looking round with the most good-humoured dependence on every body's assent)  Do not you all think I shall?" Emma responds, "Ah! ma'am, but there may be a difficulty. Pardon me, but you will be limited as to number -- only three at once."  In this adaptation, Emma said something  "But Miss Bates, when have you ever stopped at three?"  Which is a much snippier and biting reply, I guess, but it seems to me like the comment Emma makes in the book is plenty bitchy.  Autumn de Wilde really did try to lean into the "Mean Girl" aspects of Emma's character.

I liked how Johnny Flynn did the "Badly done!" speech, but even though he did it well, he's still not the right guy for the job, in my opinion.  He's just too...scruffy.  I don't see how Emma, the picture of wealth and elegance and health, could fall in love with a guy who doesn't appear to own a hairbrush.

And then we have...

The nosebleed

Probably the worst WTF moment in the whole adaptation.  Apparently Autumn de Wilde herself gets nosebleeds when she's stressed or feels like things are out of control, but for goodness' sake, couldn't we have had some context??  If Emma had gotten a nosebleed on the morning of Miss Taylor's wedding, for example, we would know that this is A THING that happens to her when she experiences some kind of upheaval.  And then when Mr. Knightley is professing his love, it would kind of come full circle if she got a nosebleed again.  But me being a costumer, all I could think of was the potential of staining the lovely gown she was wearing in that scene.  Yikes!

I will probably think of several other things I want to mention about this adaptation, but that seems like plenty for now, wouldn't you agree??