D. (dalaruan) wrote,

encounter IV

She struck me right away, an epiphany, a marvellous goddess, quite different from all the other women. She didn't deign to look at me, the six-year-old girl. Just sat there on a kind of bar stool, waiting for her heel to be fixed again in the small dark shoemaker's workshop.

The 70s: She wore unbelievable high heels, silvery Lurex stockings, tight satin pants, endless eyelashes and glittering eyeshadow, emerald green. Nonchalance. Pride. The first black woman I saw in my life, in this small outpost at the North Sea.

I was totally enchanted and wished to be glamorous like her when I grow up.

After we left the shop, my mother told me that this woman had a certain sad profession, I'll understand later in life.


I couldn't understand what kind of profession may be that sad when you could walk that tall between all these wallflowers.

Kishin Shinoyama - A Head and Four Hands, ca. 1968
Tags: encounters, me

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