tracy lives here now!
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@terriblefool
tracy lives here now!

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High Society (1956) dir. Charles Walters
@terriblefool said: kissing her cheek!
her fingers seal against the cheek that’s all atingle, and her smile meets those fingers. “my. i, uh, well. such faire la bise. you know, ordinarily, it’s a custom that the first is to be followed by a second.”
confidence is like a flute of sparkling champagne: leave it to sit too long, it can only flatten. tracy’s self-assured smile is all coy, all delicate -- genuine, and so like a soap bubble seconds from bursting. ‘ is it? i don’t think i’m familiar with the concept, ’ she fibs. like a gravitational pull, something sways her closer. she touches diane’s arm.
‘ perhaps a demonstration? ’
why is ... tumblr doing that to my formatting
@aspirinqs.
she bites the inside of her lip, pink-cheeked and veritably, privately charmed. ‘ quite the argument you’ve made, darling. ’

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@perceives.
tracy’s first instinct is to laugh when marlene bestows a muddy imprint upon her finely pressed trousers - so she does. the back of her hand smothers the brief half of it, but what filters outward is pure mirth. ‘ oh, this is just fine, darling. ’ boris seems content to watch on with quiet amusement, though his tail wags at the sight of her. her other hand finds itself against the dalmation’s jaw, nails gently scratching into the soft fur. more to the pup herself than the girl on the other end of the leash, ‘ shall i send you the dry-cleaning bill, sweet thing? ’
warm as ever, her gaze flicks back upward. ‘ perry and woods are dear friends of mine. ’ there’s a hand offered, delicate. ‘ tracy. i don’t believe i’ve had the pleasure. ’
Designing Woman (1957) dir. Vincente Minnelli
Grace Kelly in Rear Window (1954)
@peterwoods.
‘ peter? ’
tracy steps into the foyer, chilled from the wind, snowflakes finding their rapid, wet end in the crown of her hair. she juggles two once-immaculately hand-wrapped boxes in hand, and manages only to close the door by way of a well-placed heel.
she calls into the house, ‘ i am sorry to drop in on you like this, only the weather is absolutely dreadful, and -- ’ she realizes the ineffectiveness of beginning half of one’s conversation out of earshot, quieting herself to an indoor voice. ‘ gosh, i should really let you enter the room before i go prattling on. ’
@guttersniper.
‘ mutt -- ’
haltingly, tracy bites her tongue, all too inclined toward hypocorisms and all too aware of his visceral distaste in the very mention of them. crossed at the ankle, she swings her legs just so. ‘ mutt. if i may, i’m not certain when bennie and jeremy will have concluded their business. is there anything that might tempt you to join me for a brief diversion? something to stretch our legs. there’s a lovely little cafe just downstairs. perhaps lunch? ’

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frauddity.
@terriblefool.
something in her phrasing causes jay to stall out. he’d been keeping up just fine until she mentioned who sent her here, to lightning fast. her. here. he bets he could buy his apartment with one of her shoes.
‘ mike? ’ he asks, like it’s going to help the confusion. he holds a hand over his head, swipes a line through the air with a flat palm just above the 6 foot mark, about where mike stands. he frowns, too, both to paint a clearer picture of mike and to punish himself for how he’s about to refer to him, which he can feel is as beyond his control as a sneeze. ‘ my mike? ’
‘ ah, you know him. ’
her brow lifts, bemusement (and no small measure of amusement) written into the minute movement. ‘ yes, that is -- dark of hair? inclined toward, mm. unfortunate, ’ but no less charming, ‘ humor? ’ she briefly raises her own hands, parallel to her torso, a gesture that seems to measure the distance between them and soften it. she feels as if she should shake his hand. ‘ colloquially, i suppose, our mike. my name is, that is -- i’m tracy. ’ surreptitiously, or perhaps suspiciously, with how he looks at her, she neglects her father’s name. she is too used to its weight.
‘ he and i -- we’ve only made each other’s acquaintance quite recently, i don’t expect him to have mentioned me. ’
@voirverite.
he finds her within the depths of a mountainous stack of spoiled groceries, quite forlorn, addressing him just south of a jug of warmed milk. ‘ perry, my dearest love, i do not wish to be perceived in this moment. ’
@aspirinqs asked: "i do so admire your style." said one sapphic to the next, operating on age-old, intricate rituals.
‘ oh! and how. ’
she mightn’t normally allow herself to be accused of tittering, but, well. her furtive gaze falls somewhat left of diane’s own; instead, flickering somewhere between her corn silk hair and the blended rouge on her cheek. (set a girl down in front of a singular, feminine force and watch her lose every ounce of society grace.) the air tracy affects feels clumsy to her own critical eye, but poised enough, she hopes, to fool any hard glance. ‘ you’ve stolen the words from my very mouth. ’ to the barest degree, she leans in further. ‘ you must tell me who fashioned your blouse, how it fits so keenly. you simply must. ’
like for a starter from your favorite socialite bc i’m at home on this fabulous snow day
#my last two brain cells

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@voirverite.
‘ perry, darling, ’ she stands over him, a cast shadow towering in gleaming, angelic white. ‘ get in the damn pool. ’
Belle de Jour (1967)