The Echo of a Distant Time

Wednesday, July 29, 2026

The enduring grace of Diane Keen

A colourised portrait of British actress Diane Keen seated casually on a low stone step outdoors, smiling warmly towards the camera. She wears a blue-and-white gingham short-sleeved dress with a white collar and tall grey suede boots reaching to her knees. Resting one elbow on her raised knee while lightly supporting her head with one hand, she adopts a relaxed, youthful pose. Behind her, a cream-coloured wall and pale brickwork create a simple backdrop, allowing the soft natural light and her cheerful expression to dominate the composition.

photo: source unknown; colourised via ChatGPT

Renowned English actress Diane Keen, celebrating her 79th birthday today (born 29 July 1947 in London).

linktr.ee/arthurnewhook

🪐💔 #QueSeraSera 𓅨 🕈

Tuesday, July 28, 2026

Cherry-laced country dreams

A cheerful outdoor glamour portrait of a blonde model standing beside a white ranch fence beneath a sunny sky. She wears a straw cowboy hat tipped forward with one hand and a white camisole-style top and matching shorts decorated with a tiny red cherry pattern and trimmed with white lace. A red ribbon accents the neckline, complementing the playful country-inspired styling. A Western saddle rests on the fence beside her, while leafy trees and soft natural light create a relaxed rural atmosphere. The image combines pin-up fashion with a light-hearted rustic theme, emphasising bright colours, vintage charm, and an easy summer mood.

photo: source unknown

Please be advised that The Echo of a Distant Time and Broken Dolls and Fallen Angels have a new home on Reddit. Visit reddit.com/r/DollsFallen and join today. {photo: source unknown}

linktr.ee/arthurnewhook

🪐💔 #QueSeraSera 𓅨 🕈

Monday, July 27, 2026

Peggy Fleming: America’s erstwhile queen of the ice

A colour photograph of Peggy Fleming gliding gracefully across the ice rink at Rockefeller Center in New York City. She wears a vivid pink long-sleeved skating dress with white lace-trimmed cuffs and collar, accented by a black bow at the neckline, together with white figure skates. Her arms are extended elegantly as she smiles towards the camera, capturing the effortless poise and artistry for which she became renowned. Behind her, rows of international flags line the plaza, while the surrounding skyscrapers frame the iconic outdoor rink in bright daylight, creating a lively urban backdrop to the scene.

Getty Images

American figure skating legend Peggy Fleming, born 27 July 1948 in San Jose, California. Three-time world champion and gold medalist at the 1968 Winter Olympics in Grenoble. Remarkably, it was the only gold medal the US achieved at those games, and her success also revitalised US women’s figure skating after the 1961 Sabena Flight 548 disaster had taken the lives of so many of the sport’s leading figures. For years afterward, she was one of America's foremost sporting icons and a household name, and — though her fame hath naturally faded with the passage of time, this being a disgustingly fickle and wholly unappreciative nation of malevolent fools that loves to build public figures up only to tear them down — she remains one of the great pioneers of modern figure skating.

linktr.ee/arthurnewhook

🪐💔 #QueSeraSera 𓅨 🕈

Sunshine, cherries, and smiles

photo: source unknown

Please be advised that The Echo of a Distant Time and Broken Dolls and Fallen Angels have a new home on Reddit. Visit reddit.com/r/DollsFallen and join today.

linktr.ee/arthurnewhook

🪐💔 #QueSeraSera 𓅨 🕈

Sunday, July 26, 2026

Diane Webber: pretty in pastel

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Saturday, July 25, 2026

Saturday night at the diner

A retro-inspired colour photograph shows a dark-haired woman posing atop the polished rear section of a bright red classic American car inside a 1950s-style diner. She wears a strapless red dress cinched with a matching belt, white thigh-high stockings decorated with a colourful cherry pattern, and glossy red Mary Jane heels. Looking downward with a relaxed, playful expression, she rests one hand on the car while the other sits upon her hip, one leg extended across the vehicle's surface. The diner's interior features chrome-framed tables, red chairs, framed vintage music and film posters—including one featuring Elvis Presley—and black-and-white decorative trim, creating a nostalgic rock-and-roll atmosphere. Soft indoor lighting and the vivid red-and-white colour palette reinforce the image's cheerful mid-century aesthetic.

photo: source unknown

The irresistible charm and the enduring appeal of mid-century Americana. Whether or not the 1950s ever truly resembled the romanticised world we imagine today is almost beside the point. Chrome, polished paintwork, bright summer dresses, and playful confidence have continued to evoke an ideal of youthful optimism; alas, one that is forever lost to our timeline, and therein lies its abiding allure.

Follow x.com/DollsFallen for nostalgia and more piquant fare. Always in good taste, but 18+ ONLY.

JOIN TODAY: Broken Dolls and Fallen Angels group on Facebook (18+ ONLY) - https://www.facebook.com/groups/886318992990373

linktr.ee/arthurnewhook

🪐💔 #QueSeraSera 𓅨 🕈

Greta Granstedt: when every smile sold a dream

Swedish-American actress and model Greta Granstedt, 13 July 1907 to 7 October 1987. Never a headliner during Hollywood's Golden Age, yet possessed of a smile that still reaches across the decades. {photo: circa 1931–33, possibly by Eugene Robert Richee for Paramount Pictures}

linktr.ee/arthurnewhook

🪐💔 #QueSeraSera 𓅨 🕈

Monday, July 20, 2026

Remembering Jennifer Finch, 5 August 1966 to 18 July 2026

A dynamic concert photograph captures Jennifer Finch performing live with infectious energy, singing into a microphone while playing a black electric bass guitar. She wears a sleeveless black satin top, layered silver necklaces and colourful red-and-blue wristbands, her hair blown dramatically by stage fans as she smiles mid-performance. Warm red stage lighting bathes the background, creating a vivid contrast with her dark clothing and instrument. The close composition emphasises her animated expression, confident stage presence and vigorous musicianship, while the blurred backdrop and microphone stand reinforce the immediacy and excitement of a live rock performance before an unseen audience.

Getty Images

Rest in Peace, Jennifer Finch: L7 bassist dies at fifty-nine. {Billboard 19 July}

https://www.billboard.com/music/rock/jennifer-finch-l7-bassist-dies-1236297297/

L7 were a breath of fresh air in the early 1990s, one of a wave of intelligent hard rock bands who — however briefly — found a degree of success after years of gutter-trash hair metal dominating the airwaves. ‘Pretend We’re Dead’, their signature ‘hit’ song (not a commercial chart hit, but it received a reasonable amount of MTV exposure and airplay on rock stations such as WAAF here in Massachusetts), is far darker, heavier, and more lethal than anything any of the pretty boy cock rockers ever produced. They were a band that embraced the label of ‘punk rock’, but, really, the style of music they, and similar bands such as Babes in Toyland or even Hole, produced was in no way identical to the stereotypical three-chord tripe made by dudes with mohawks and safety pins sticking out of their noses. Informed by those punk rockers, certainly, but equally so by ‘60s garage rock and psychedelia, and delivered with a pointedly metallic sheen that owed an obvious debt to Black Sabbath.

I do not remember exactly, but I believe I may have owned the record that produced ‘Pretend We’re Dead’ (Bricks Are Heavy) and perhaps one or two other L7 discs at some point. At one time, I had upwards of 1,200 CDs in my collection. It was ridiculous. I cannot honestly proclaim I kept much track of the women of L7 in the decades since — along with scores of other bands and artists from those halcyon days — but Godspeed to a woman who was part of a much-needed revolution in rock music, back when such things still mattered.

linktr.ee/arthurnewhook

🪐💔 #QueSeraSera 𓅨 🕈

Friday, July 17, 2026

Remembering the great vaudevillian James Cagney, born 17 July 1899

A black-and-white publicity still from the 1931 Warner Bros. crime film The Public Enemy, featuring James Cagney and Jean Harlow. Cagney sits in the foreground wearing a tuxedo and bow tie, his expression stern and determined as he loosely grips a revolver resting across his lap. Behind him, Harlow stands elegantly in a satin evening gown with a flowing shoulder drape, holding a long cigarette holder while gazing coolly towards the camera. One hand rests lightly upon Cagney's shoulder, reinforcing their dramatic partnership. A small table with an ashtray, cigarettes, and an ice bucket completes the sophisticated Art Deco setting, emphasising Hollywood's glamorous yet dangerous vision of the Prohibition-era underworld.

Warner Brothers

“I still think of myself essentially as a vaudevillian, as a song and dance man. The vaudevillians I knew by and large were marvelous people. Ninety percent of them had no schooling, but they had a vivid something or other about them that absolutely riveted an audience's attention. Those vaudevillians knew something that ultimately I came to understand and believe - that audiences are the ones who determine material. They buy the tickets.” — the Hollywood god James Cagney, reflecting on his ‘schooling’ in the world of entertainment. (source: https://www.imdb.com/name/nm0000010/quotes/)

Seen here with the goddess Jean Harlow in a promotional shot for The Public Enemy (1931, WB).

linktr.ee/arthurnewhook

🪐💔 #QueSeraSera 𓅨 🕈

Wednesday, July 15, 2026

Facebook: apparently this violates something

A candid indoor photograph shows a woman posing on a bed in a bedroom. She is kneeling on white bedding and looking directly towards the camera with an intense expression. She wears black lace lingerie with matching garter straps and sheer thigh-high stockings. Her shoulder-length light brown hair falls partly across one side of her face. The room is softly lit by a floor lamp, with a window covered by blinds, framed wall decorations, and everyday household items visible in the background. The informal setting and direct camera engagement create the atmosphere of a personal glamour photograph taken in a private residence.

photo: source unknown

No firm decisions have been made, but I am about this close to shutting down the Broken Dolls and Fallen Angels Facebook group. Too much hassle.

Facebook, in its infinite wisdom, is presently not allowing yours truly to post in groups, not even in the one I created and operate, and offers scant details as to why. The sort of posts I see in all sorts of other groups and pages are somehow being removed from Broken Dolls and Fallen Angels. I am infuriated; traffic in the group hath been steady, and I am still moderating… for now. Thank you to those who are posting, but consider this notice that this group is an endangered species.

I have sought to make Broken Dolls and Fallen Angels one of the top groups of its kind on Facebook — and The Echo of a Distant Time, as it stands, is not too far from 10K followers — but if it never happens, it will not be for lack of effort on my part, or because I did anything wrong. It shall be because Facebook/Meta is a garbage company where customer support is non-existent and ever-shifting guidelines are enforced capriciously and unfairly.

So, kiss my ass, Facebook… and I highly encourage any and all reading this to begin to gradually wean themselves off this bloody platform. For I want off this infernal thing, but most of my readers are here and not on the other sites, and I would like to take as many as possible of them with me once I finally do shut this Facebook thing — not just the group, but everything — down for good. Am currently aiming for on or around 1 July 2027… an operation such as this must be wound down carefully. And if I do remain beyond that point, it will be very grudgingly and only because it remains the primary driver of all of my overall web traffic.

Make no mistake, I am beyond fed up and I strongly desire at this point for Facebook to go the way of Myspace. Not even Elon’s playground gives me a quarter of the troubles Zuckerberg’s does. F**k you and your harassment over NOTHING!

linktr.ee/arthurnewhook

🪐💔 #QueSeraSera 𓅨 🕈

England’s World Cup dream comes to an end

Argentina 2, England 1. {ESPN 15 July}

https://www.espn.com/soccer/match/_/gameId/760515

Another dream in life dies, I shall never see my ancestral homeland win a World Cup. #ENGLAND fell to Argentina in the World Cup semi-final, 2-1. Argentina will face Spain in the World Cup final on Sunday. Massive respect to Lionel Messi, but I cannot possibly root for the Argentinians now.

linktr.ee/arthurnewhook

🪐💔 #QueSeraSera 𓅨 🕈

Monday, July 13, 2026

Ally Sheedy: the quiet rebellion

Actress and writer Ally Sheedy poses in a contemplative studio portrait against a dark backdrop. Dressed in an oversized black sweater that slips from one shoulder, she sits with her knees drawn close to her body, creating an informal and introspective composition. Her dark hair is loosely styled, framing a serious, direct gaze towards the camera. White athletic socks and light-coloured trainers provide a casual contrast to the otherwise minimalist image. Soft, subdued lighting emphasises her facial features while allowing the dark clothing and background to merge into a moody, understated aesthetic. The portrait conveys vulnerability, intelligence, and quiet self-possession, qualities often associated with Sheedy’s most memorable screen performances during the 1980s and beyond.

Universal Pictures

Actress and writer Ally Sheedy in a promotional photograph for what is, arguably, her most celebrated role: the enigmatic Allison Reynolds in the 1985 coming-of-age classic The Breakfast Club. Born on 13 July 1963 in New York City, Sheedy brought remarkable depth to a character who might otherwise have remained a stereotype. In a film built around teenage archetypes, Allison emerged as the most complex figure of all — a young woman whose silence concealed intelligence, vulnerability, and a profound sense of alienation. One who hath always favoured emotional depth over glamour, Sheedy hath spent decades building a career spanning film, television, theatre, and writing, and today serves as a professor at the City College of New York.

linktr.ee/arthurnewhook

🪐💔 #QueSeraSera 𓅨 🕈

Tuesday, July 7, 2026

Waiting for a reply

A glamour portrait shows Shay Laren standing beside a tiled bathroom counter bathed in bright morning sunlight streaming through a large window behind her. She wears pale pink lingerie consisting of a bra and matching shorts trimmed with delicate lace. Turning partially towards the camera, she rests both hands upon the countertop while gazing directly at the viewer with a composed, slightly inquisitive expression. Her long auburn hair falls in soft waves across her shoulders, illuminated by strong backlighting that creates a warm, radiant halo effect. Seashells arranged along the windowsill and a softly lit interior contribute to the intimate domestic setting. The image emphasises natural light, gentle pastel tones, and a relaxed, fashion-oriented glamour aesthetic.

model Gabbriette Bechtel in Vogue

Modern loneliness does not always look lonely.

It may wear fashionable clothes. It may possess beauty, youth, money, popularity, or thousands of followers. It may appear in magazines and accumulate admirers by the score.

Yet it remains loneliness all the same.

The great irony of our age is that we have never been more connected, and never found it so difficult to truly reach one another.

A century ago, a young woman waiting to hear from someone might have stood at a window, listened for footsteps, or watched the postman's approach. Today she stares at a glowing screen.

The technology has changed.

The feeling has not.

The anticipation.

The uncertainty.

The silent hope that a particular name will appear.

Perhaps that is why photographs such as this resonate. Beneath the fashion, beneath the glamour, beneath the carefully composed aesthetic, there exists something recognisably human.

A moment of waiting.

And if there is one thing every generation understands, it is that.

linktr.ee/arthurnewhook

🪐💔 #QueSeraSera 𓅨 🕈

The things we remember

photo: Penthouse Pet Shay Laren

Most of life is not composed of great events.

History books concern themselves with wars, elections, scandals, disasters, and triumphs. Yet when people grow older and look back upon their lives, they rarely find themselves dwelling upon such things. Instead, they remember fragments.

The way sunlight fell through a kitchen window on a summer morning.

A certain song playing from another room.

The scent of coffee. The sound of laughter. A glance over a shoulder.

Moments that seemed utterly ordinary at the time.

Perhaps that is why old photographs possess such power. They remind us that every era, no matter how distant, was once someone's present. Every faded image captures a moment that appeared no more remarkable than today does to us.

And yet, somehow, those are the things that endure.

Not the headlines.

Not the controversies.

Not the noise.

Only the light, and the memory of how it felt to stand within it.

linktr.ee/arthurnewhook

🪐💔 #QueSeraSera 𓅨 🕈

Waiting for the exit

photo: source unknown

Facebook, in its infinite wisdom, is presently not allowing yours truly to post in groups, not even in the one I created and operate, and will not tell me why. I am infuriated; however, traffic in the group hath been steady, and I am still moderating. Thank you to those who are posting.

I do want to make Broken Dolls and Fallen Angels one of the top groups of its kind on Facebook — and The Echo of a Distant Time, as it stands, is not too far from 10K followers — but if it never happens, it will not be for lack of effort on my part, or because I did anything wrong. It shall be because Facebook/Meta is a garbage company where customer support is non-existent and ever-shifting guidelines are enforced capriciously and unfairly.

So, kiss my ass, Facebook… and I highly encourage any and all reading this to begin to gradually wean themselves off that bloody platform. For I want off the infernal thing, but most of my readers are there and not on the other sites, and I would like to take as many as possible of them with me once I finally do shut this Facebook thing down for good. Aiming for, let us say, 1 July 2027… an operation such as this must be wound down carefully. And if I do remain beyond that point, it will be very grudgingly and only because it shall remain the primary driver of all of my overall web traffic.

Make no mistake, I am beyond fed up and I strongly desire at this point for Facebook to go the way of Myspace. Not even Elon’s playground gives me a quarter of the troubles Zuckerberg’s does.

linktr.ee/arthurnewhook

🪐💔 #QueSeraSera 𓅨 🕈

Virginia Rappe: the star she might have become

lack-and-white studio portrait of a young woman with dark, wavy bobbed hair, smiling and looking to the side. She wears a strapless, satin evening gown with a floral corsage at the waist, a dark ribbon belt, and a long fringed, patterned shawl draped over one shoulder and arm. She stands against a plain dark backdrop, one hand resting on her hip. The photograph bears a label reading 'RAPPE' and a negative number in the upper corners.

George Grantham Bain

Model and silent film actress Virginia Rappe: born 7 July 1891 and died under horrible circumstances, officially as a result of a ruptured bladder, 9 September 1921, four days after a Labor Day party in San Francisco, held in the hotel suite of one of the silver screen’s most famous and beloved actors of the day, Roscoe ‘Fatty’ Arbuckle. Arbuckle was tried three times on charges of rape and manslaughter in connection with Rappe's death, but was unanimously acquitted by a jury at the third trial. Though Arbuckle’s public reputation was salvaged, his career was hampered to a great extent by the scandal, and he himself would die relatively young (though, realistically, not especially young for a man of his size and habits), of a heart attack, aged 46.

As for Virginia Rappe, unfortunately she was not a particularly prolific model and actress, only beginning in earnest when she moved to Los Angeles in 1917, then already 26 years old. Most of the films on her thin résumé are considered lost, leaving the question of what might have been very much unanswered. We simply do not know what kind of actress she was, or what she might have become. Regardless, she was a human being, and it is unfortunate that she is remembered chiefly for a scandal which, in the end, may not have been much of a scandal at all.

After all, the jury in Arbuckle's third and final trial went so far as to issue him a formal apology.

linktr.ee/arthurnewhook

🪐💔 #QueSeraSera 𓅨 🕈

Sunday, July 5, 2026

A masterclass in controlled exasperation: Glenda Farrell

Actress Glenda Farrell, seen in 1934’s Hi, Nellie (WB). The expression of a woman who has been patient for a very long time and has simply — finished. No dramatics, no Crawford-style theatrics. Just a clean, elegant, utterly final withdrawal of the will to perform contentment. Yours truly doth relate.

linktr.ee/arthurnewhook

🪐💔 #QueSeraSera 𓅨 🕈

Watching the world depart: broken dolls, broken platform (looking at thee, Facebook)

A striking black-and-white photograph by André de Dienes depicts a nude woman reclining at the edge of a calm shoreline. Seen from behind and photographed from a low angle, she lies partially in the shallow water with her body stretched diagonally across the foreground. Gentle waves ripple around her as sunlight glints upon the smooth surface of the sea. In the distance, a large ocean liner sits on the horizon, accompanied by several small sailboats that emphasise the vast scale of the open water. The minimalist composition contrasts the organic curves of the figure with the expansive geometry of sea and sky, creating a mood of solitude, freedom, and quiet contemplation. Soft tonal gradations, reflective water, and the immense negative space contribute to the photograph’s dreamlike and lyrical quality, characteristic of de Dienes’s celebrated mid-century glamour photography.

photo: model Mickey Jines by André de Dienes

#KissMyAss Suppose I am going to have to do this on a daily basis now, as Facebook will not stop playing games with my page — The Echo of a Distant Time — and group — Broken Dolls and Fallen Angels (18+ ONLY, https://www.facebook.com/groups/886318992990373) when I have not done a damn thing wrong or broken any actual rule (as if algorithms should be enforcing anything above human beings).

Facebook, in its infinite wisdom, is presently not allowing yours truly to post in groups, not even in the one I created and operate, and will not tell me why. I am infuriated; however, traffic in the group hath been steady, and I am still moderating. Thank you to those who are posting.

I do want to make Broken Dolls and Fallen Angels one of the top groups of its kind on Facebook — and The Echo of a Distant Time, as is, is not too far from 10K followers — but if it never happens, it will not be for lack of effort on my part, or because I did anything wrong. It shall be because Facebook/Meta is a garbage company where customer support is nonexistent and ever-shifting guidelines are enforced capriciously and unfairly.

So, kiss my ass, Facebook… and I highly encourage any and all reading this to begin to gradually wean themselves off this bloody platform. For I want off it, but most of my readers are here and not on the other sites, and I would like to take as many as possible of them with me once I finally do shut this Facebook thing down for good. Aiming for, let us say, one year from now… an operation such as this needs to be wound down carefully. And if I do remain beyond that point, it will be very grudgingly and only because it shall remain the primary driver of all of my overall web traffic.

Make no mistake, I am beyond fed-up and I strongly desire at this point for Facebook to go the way of Myspace. Not even Elon’s playground gives me a quarter of the troubles Zuckerberg’s does.

(see linktr.ee/arthurnewhook for my full list of socials… then follow me in those places)

🪐💔 #QueSeraSera 𓅨 🕈

Saturday, July 4, 2026

Drawn like a moth to flame: a prayer to Aphrodite

A contemporary glamour photograph depicts two blonde women posed indoors in a brightly lit modern setting. One woman stands beside a light-coloured partition, wearing a cropped maroon top with white trim and a short white pleated skirt. Her long straight hair falls past her shoulders as she looks toward the camera. The second woman kneels beside her, partially obscured, with wavy platinum-blonde hair and visible tattoo work on one arm. The standing woman lifts the hem of her skirt while the kneeling woman leans toward her upper thigh. Soft neutral tones, shallow depth of field, and smooth lighting emphasise the polished commercial-photography aesthetic. The composition centres on an overtly erotic interaction between the two subjects, presented in a stylised and provocative fashion typical of adult glamour imagery.

photo: source unknown

JOIN TODAY: Broken Dolls and Fallen Angels group on Facebook (18+ ONLY) - https://www.facebook.com/groups/886318992990373

I do want to make Broken Dolls and Fallen Angels one of the top groups of its kind on Facebook, but if that never happens, it will not be for lack of effort on my part, nor because of any of our group members. It shall be because Facebook/Meta is a garbage company where customer support is nonexistent and ever-shifting guidelines are enforced arbitrarily and unfairly.

To put it more succinctly: Facebook, thou mayst kiss my arse.

linktr.ee/arthurnewhook

🪐💔 #QueSeraSera 𓅨 🕈

A postcard from lost America: the country we naïvely thought would last forever

When America was great: Playmate of the Month for May 1963 Sharon Cintron. Photographed by Mario Casilli, and what an enviable profession that must have been. Were it possible to go back to another time and start all over in life, free of the ailments and baggage that hath plagued me from day one in this timeline, perhaps I would be a photographer in mid-20th-century America. Another ‘what should have been’ in a long line of them.

linktr.ee/arthurnewhook

🪐💔 #QueSeraSera 𓅨 🕈