Learning To Trust ... Again

A friend was telling me yesterday how a vast collection of rare books he had spent years putting together, with love, care & dedication, was destroyed in an importune fire. As I was reading his account of the disaster, and how the aftermath had affected him in such a way that he simply couldn't make another attempt to start collecting the kind of books he appreciates & treasures, I could actually, physically felt his pain of the great loss.

The irreplaceable value of the collection is not even just the heartbreak, but the despondency that you feel for always, at the sound, sight or image, even the mere mention of whatever you have lost. I understood & felt his pain because I had the same experience years ago, losing my most beloved procession: a collection of family photos, totally void of value to anybody, but for me my only treasure. I had mentioned this, not in details, in one of my earlier Blogs.

 

Unlike most people, I have no siblings, no aunts or uncles, never known the joy of being indulged by grandparents, nor played with cousins, nephews or nieces; my parents were all the family I had. Since their passing in my late teens, my family existed only in those pictures of them, of my childhood, adolescence & added on later the record of my career as a fashion model and a teacher of English, some with my students too.

Like my friend, that's why I lost interest keeping albums of photos. The few of myself posted here were not lost because they were rejects (model agencies and clients have the sole right of the photos they chose for commercial use, not the model). The irony is that these reject prints are still with me, thrown about any old how around the house.

 

The story how the treasured memory of my life in print was a very sad and unforgivable betrayal of somebody I mistook as trustworthy. Like the friend who told me about his books & how he couldn't bear to keep a single one since, I stopped trusting anybody for a long, long time and this distrust of people has marked my life.

The disappointment and wariness of mankind is very mentally and morally damaging. I have been making great efforts to restore my faith even though the learning process is slow. I need to believe that I can eventually come through, winning.

Tag: photoalbums, betrayal, trust

Museum Of Boudoirs

In the famous and the most cosmopolitan Rambla of Barcelona, there's an unique Museum. The exhibits would not be the usual paintings, sculptures, art objects, but everything to do with a lady's boudoir throughout the past centuries, not just legacies of any famous or notorious ladies past and present, but the evolution of beauty and hairdressing salons, with a special section dedicated to the gentleman's Barber shops.

The importance of the boudoir has been featured in it's multifaceted forms according to the times, over and over again in epic films , in books and poems, from literature to nearly all of the hundreds of novels by the prolific novelist Barbara Cartland.

On exhibitions would be great collections of objects, employed to enhance and beautify not just a lady's hair, but all other magical products to turn an ugly duckling into a desirable beauty. Included are great varieties of hair-driers, used not all that long ago and can still be found in some small provincial hairdressers, a hanging or standing helmet, looking more like an apparatus for torture. Combs, practical as well as decorative ones, made of wood, tortoiseshells, ivory, silver, gold, encrusted with jewels or precious stones; brushes in several hundred shapes, sizes and different materials, tongs for curling or straightening, clips, rings, wigs ... 
  

I had never given a thought nor wondered, just how the hairdressing utensils and equipment could be so varied, and had gone through so much in the history to warrant a museum. Through them I suppose one gets a better insight of the evolution in different periods of the history and the people who used them.
 

I have only 2 combs and 2 brushes. This alone then must have accounted for the fact that I am no raving beauty. On the other hand, my 'Ah Q' spirit tells me that I don't need it.

(If anyone wonders what 'Ah Q' means ... in Chinese It's more or less similar to 'sour grape', self justifying, defending or consoling ... )

Tags: boudoirhistory, uglyduckling

Peculiar Knowledge Gained From Movies

Next time you go to the movies, keep your eye out for extra information that you can pick up about every day events. Strange but seems to be the norm in most movies.

** During all police investigations, it will be necessary to visit a strip club at least once.

 ** All grocery shopping bags contain at least one stick of French bread.

 ** The Eiffel Tower can be seen from any window in Paris.

 ** Should you decide to defuse a bomb, don't worry which wire to cut. You will always choose the right one.

** A man will show no pain while taking the most ferocious beating but will wince when a woman tries to clean his wounds.

** Even when driving down a perfectly straight road, it is necessary to turn the steering wheel vigorously from left to right every few moments.

 ** It does not matter if you are heavily outnumbered in a fight involving martial arts - your enemies will wait patiently to attack you one by one by dancing around in a threatening manner, until you have knocked out their predecessors.

 ** When you turn out the light to go to bed, everything in your bedroom will still be clearly visible, just slightly bluish.

All beds have special L-shaped cover sheets that reach up to the armpit level on a woman who will still have perfect make-up on, but the man lying beside her covered only to waist level.

If you notice any other amusing 'abnormalities', you are welcomed to add to this.

** In any movie gunfight, the baddies are always horrendous shots, but the goodie is a marksman who doesn't need to aim! - by Paul Greger