Woodstock, the magic word. I don’t know if I would have the right profile for a “Woodstocker”, not everyone does. Still I admire the messy freedom, the spirit and aesthetics. The place, people, feelings, crazy movements, clothes or lack of them, all the subjects susceptible to criticism (or not) are pieces of art that deserve to be appreciated. After all it is an icon of free will for good or for bad, each person is a free painter of one’s own life.
From the clear to the most subliminal and hiden reasons behind Woodstock, above all, it was an antagonistic manifestation against the galloping horse of Vietnam War. The growth of an anti-war feeling, the feeling of powerlessness and frustration – on these days got molten and shaped into music, dances, drugs, an inner revolution of one’s own self, can we think about some kind of self-destruction? An escape? Freedom? Happiness? (Some of them not even knew what Vietnam War was?)
Maybe the Newton’s Third Law applied to psychology explains it – “For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.”
“What do you wear to bed?” Marilyn Monroe responded, “CHANEL N°5″.
I couldn’t help it. When it’s about perfumes it’s hard not to think of her.
Many women feel undressed if they go outside without these drops of magic, maybe a lucky souvenir, an essential? The fashion and style holy water that turns a woman into a temple?
From the cheap ones to the extremely expensive personalized milliliters of perfumes, bad or good perfumes, fruity, floral, woody, oriental, spicy, whatever… one thing is for sure; it inspires confidence and turns heads.
But a perfume is not an unique entity unless you smell it from the bottle. And perfumes were not made to be smelled from the bottle. The real and savage state of a perfume is the result of it’s chemical reaction with the skin, sweat, pheromones maybe. That’s why it’s so unique. You can wear a shirt or a shoe, it’s green, blue, if other woman wears it, it’s the same thing. A perfume over your skin potentiates your natural smell and your natural smell potentiates the perfume. It’s a signature.
It all starts with a cup of cappuccino, campurrianas and a nice view from the window (maybe the only interesting feature of a city that everyday makes me wonder why I’m here). I’m writing in English, not my native language. Because I want and I’ll nail it.
On top of the table there is a Cartier La Panthere Perfume and a bottle of Fluide de Beauté 14 de Carita. Messy. God bless these trinkets that make me sometimes remember I’m still a woman.
My childhood dream was to save lives, that’s what I do now.
Falsehood, injustice, tyranny, despotism, lack of character and people who cultivate the “survival of the fittest” make me sick. We (should) live in a evolved society of rights, people are covered by them from the moment they’re born, “fight” for them is absurd. There are people who would fit better as apes or deers instead of humans. Or not even that.
Sorry for being honest but wigs and masks are for Carnival (actually I had to work that day).