1950s -Marboro Man - every womans heart throb every man's dream
1970's - Calvin Klein's mens underwear begins, youthful, boy-man introduced
2000s -Beckham in his glory - maybe morning glory, maybe sock.
Sunday, June 22, 2008
Sunday, June 15, 2008
Another Mirror Story
Echo & Narcissus
Echo was a water nymph who loved to talk.
One Day Zeus convinced Echo to lie to Hera about his whereabouts. When Hera discovered the betrayal she cursed Echo that she would never speak openly again and would only repeat the last few words of another.
When Echo met Narcissus she fell in love with his charm and beauty, she followed him and spied on him, driven by a desire to speak lovingly and tenderly with him. Narcissus who was a handsome youth had many admirers and was known for leading hearts astray.
Echo's passion for Narcissus grew with fervour and flame but when she came close enough to speak to him, she could only ever repeat his last few words. She desired to hold him in a close embrace, but Narcissus pushed Echo away. No one nymph could ever match his desire for flattery.
Echo retreated to a cave. Where she grieved the pain of his rejection in solitude and loneliness, until her body withered away.
All the nymphs Naricissus mocked and teased were spurned and a curse was placed upon him, that when he came upon his own reflection he would desire no other than himself.
It was by a calm flat spring that Narcissus discovered his own reflection, he became mesmerised by the image gazing back at him. He was unable to move, and there he remained staring into his own eyes, driven with the torment of longing. He too demised into sorrow. Until there was nothing left of his body.
By the spring where he lay a flower blossomed, the white petalled Narcissus and out in the valley, if ever a traveller was to call, from her isolated and hidden cave, echo would respond.
This blog is dedicated to the Narcissus I once met.
Echo was a water nymph who loved to talk.
One Day Zeus convinced Echo to lie to Hera about his whereabouts. When Hera discovered the betrayal she cursed Echo that she would never speak openly again and would only repeat the last few words of another.
When Echo met Narcissus she fell in love with his charm and beauty, she followed him and spied on him, driven by a desire to speak lovingly and tenderly with him. Narcissus who was a handsome youth had many admirers and was known for leading hearts astray.
Echo's passion for Narcissus grew with fervour and flame but when she came close enough to speak to him, she could only ever repeat his last few words. She desired to hold him in a close embrace, but Narcissus pushed Echo away. No one nymph could ever match his desire for flattery.
Echo retreated to a cave. Where she grieved the pain of his rejection in solitude and loneliness, until her body withered away.
All the nymphs Naricissus mocked and teased were spurned and a curse was placed upon him, that when he came upon his own reflection he would desire no other than himself.
It was by a calm flat spring that Narcissus discovered his own reflection, he became mesmerised by the image gazing back at him. He was unable to move, and there he remained staring into his own eyes, driven with the torment of longing. He too demised into sorrow. Until there was nothing left of his body.
By the spring where he lay a flower blossomed, the white petalled Narcissus and out in the valley, if ever a traveller was to call, from her isolated and hidden cave, echo would respond.
This blog is dedicated to the Narcissus I once met.
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Dancing with Lady Death
Mirror, Mirror on the Wall, Who's the Fairest of them All?
Mirrors fascinate me.
If I look at this image of the skeleton in the mirror it reminds me of how critical women can be of their own reflection. It is true that what you see is heavily influenced by your perception. Are you beautiful or ugly?
I was wondering if women have trouble dancing with Lady Death, or Skeleton Woman. The ugly wench inside.
Images of the feminine in advertising are perfect. It's all about the ideal of the 'all year round blemish free, fresh scented and youthful', who is otherwise known as Aprhodite, Venus, Hathor or the Lady of the Heavens. Blissful Beauty.
This is not real. Real women are beautiful and ugly.
The Goddess of Life & Death looks at both these sides to the feminine. The fresh growth of spring and the dark of winter. The skeleton woman is a character of death and dying. She is like a cold winter's night. Maybe she stinks, maybe she sounds like a gaggling hag, maybe she is rotting and maggots eat her flesh.
But death is a reality. Perfect gardens of eden or the paradise of the eternal & youthful springs of Loreal and Chanel, are not. Even if you are worth it.
If you look in the mirror and see skeleton woman looking back at you, dont run away, dont cake 3 layers of foundation over the top of her, try not to cover her in 15 squirts of Gwen Stefani's perfume. Be kind to her. For if you dance with Lady Death, you will know that springtime is just around the corner.
The truth is that beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
Mirrors fascinate me.
If I look at this image of the skeleton in the mirror it reminds me of how critical women can be of their own reflection. It is true that what you see is heavily influenced by your perception. Are you beautiful or ugly?
I was wondering if women have trouble dancing with Lady Death, or Skeleton Woman. The ugly wench inside.
Images of the feminine in advertising are perfect. It's all about the ideal of the 'all year round blemish free, fresh scented and youthful', who is otherwise known as Aprhodite, Venus, Hathor or the Lady of the Heavens. Blissful Beauty.
This is not real. Real women are beautiful and ugly.
The Goddess of Life & Death looks at both these sides to the feminine. The fresh growth of spring and the dark of winter. The skeleton woman is a character of death and dying. She is like a cold winter's night. Maybe she stinks, maybe she sounds like a gaggling hag, maybe she is rotting and maggots eat her flesh.
But death is a reality. Perfect gardens of eden or the paradise of the eternal & youthful springs of Loreal and Chanel, are not. Even if you are worth it.
If you look in the mirror and see skeleton woman looking back at you, dont run away, dont cake 3 layers of foundation over the top of her, try not to cover her in 15 squirts of Gwen Stefani's perfume. Be kind to her. For if you dance with Lady Death, you will know that springtime is just around the corner.
The truth is that beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
Jane was a little overdressed for their first date
I saw this on a greeting card the other day. Its funny.
It made me think about the dating world. Just how do women show up to the first date?
It seems to me that there is a 'liberated' sista who is just like the girls from Sex in the City who shows up composed and in control on the first date. "Im a modern woman, Ive got a career, Ive got money and Ive got freedom'. But as dates go on, and hormones swirl and flow through her body, lurking just below the surface is the Victorian mumma. Fully clothed in her white gown and flowing lace.
The polarity of 'Im a liberated woman', 'Marry me and have children', 'Im a liberated woman', 'Marry me and have children' is the strategy of the modern Art of Seduction. No wonder it doesnt feel that successful.
There has to be a more holistic way to show up on a date.
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