Black & white movies and Blacks & white ensembles…14
What is it about skirts darling that allude to tree climbing and naughty boys?
These days, the fashion in the village has taken a turn to the glamorous 1950s. Women have started to don skirts and wear gloves to take off slowly whenever they are out walking in the rain. Their heels are bold, the coats hide the curves of their bodies and the persistent element of velvet found in the village is found on each one of them.
I have been donning a range of skirts as well darling, pairing them with jeweled strap pumps and gloves that have the look of a glacial downpour; adding thick lashes and nude lips. There is something about the clothes of this era that would make anyone want to break into song in the middle of a conversation; they make you want to look in the eyes of Cary Grant or Humphrey Bogart while the latter drive without looking at the road, just as they do in those old black and white movies.
Story credits: Images via Rochas.20
He lives in my village, except you will never see him roaming around the cobble stone streets as he has confined himself to his cabin — a one room space where the walls are covered with postcards worn down with illegible writing.
I always find the collector sitting on his wooden chair, crouched down on his wooden desk that is brimming with piles of postcards, as he writes with his black ink pen, while his long beard brushes the edge of the paper. His writing manner is meticulous — he takes the time with each one as if it is the first time he is writing on a postcard even though he has written so many.
You see darling, the man is writing everything that has happened to him here in the village and the other places he has visited through the life of the mind. The first time I visited him I asked him why he had to confine himself to write.
“Everything I see, smell, touch, leads me to another story I will have to write on these postcards. There isn’t enough time to write them all down Madeliene. Even here in this space, a pause leads to another story.”
“What about the other pile? Have you written about the stories of the world that moves to the time on the clock?
“Yes Madeliene, I am done with those. They are in a pile in a small box under my desk.”31
Boots & longing for the rain…