Doomed Cassandra

I have always enjoyed stories of classical times, whether myth or legend or more prosaic fact. Greek tales are entertaining and fascinating; tragic and comic. Cassandra, one of those poor, tragic heroines who suffered a terrible fate, was both a Princess of Troy and a toy of the gods.

Daughter of King Priam and Queen Hecuba, Cassandra was astonishingly beautiful, which meant that she inevitably caught the roving eyes of a god. Apollo fell in love with her and blessed her with the gift of prophecy. Accepting his teaching, Cassandra afterward refused to become his lover. Petulant in his rage at being spurned by a mere mortal, Apollo cursed her so that thereafter no one would believe her words.

Cassandra foresaw the destruction of Troy at the hand of the Greeks, but to her despair and frustration she was unable to do anything to save her city or those she loved. She was believed to be either mad or a pathological liar, and was rejected and locked up by her own family.

But the tragedy doesn’t end there. In the aftermath of the war, she was raped twice and was finally carried off by Agamemnon as the spoils of war. She bore him two children only to be murdered with them by Agamemnon’s wife Clytemnestra at the last.

Creating Cassandra

To bring Cassandra to life (sans long red hair) I wear a white cotton dress by i.sixseven I’ve had for many years. It ties with a sash and is embroidered all over with a paisley pattern. The jewellery is from several sources: the gold coin earrings were the very first item I purchased on Etsy; the turquoise blue pearls were found on eBay, and the multi-strand seed bead necklace from a Melbourne boutique. White, gold, turquoise: I always associate these bold colours with clothing and jewellery of antiquity.  

But the piece that lifts this modern day bohemian and places it in antiquity is the turban: a hand made rope of fabric twisted with ribbon and pompom trimming that comes from the talented and creative Lana of Crude Things, my American alter ego. The rope can be looped and tied anywhere on the body – wrapped around the torso, for instance. Lana and I met via Instagram, where she discovered this journal and she asked me if I would consider using one of her pieces in a story on this blog. I said yes of course, and the rest is history!

The background images are pictures of the Palácio Nacional da Pena in Sintra, Portugal, taken in 2011.