Sunday, June 24, 2012

Breakfast at Tiffany's on Saturday Night

Who wouldn't want the glamourous life of Holly Golightly, strolling down 5th avenue with pearls, a little black dress and a french twist and famous NYC coffee for breakfast, all while admiring the wares of Tiffany's from the window, so close but yet so far. Last night I watched the film based on the famous Capote novel and wondered if aside from the coture and waist size, is Miss Golightly and I were so very different.

Before I met Big, I had my own share of rats and superrats as she calls them, men who believed that any amount of generosity shown, entitled them to bedsport. My mistake was believing it as well, believing that any amount of attention showed to me earned someone a say in where I slept that night, because I had such a hard time believing any one at all could find me the least bit attractive.

Unlike Ms. Golightly I never schemed or plotted on which rich man I would marry, in fact I fully believed that most rich men (most men really) would find me repulsive, because I wasn't Audrey skinny, I wasn't refined or graceful. I was a clumsy, chubby, nerdy for Harry Potter beast in my head, but I would have given anything back then to be Holly, to be invited to those glamourous parties, to be swooned over if even by super rats.

Due to my lack of glamour, I was forced to obtain skills. I worked hard, saved money and lived completely indepedently. It was a feeling of freedom I'd never experienced before, I answered to no one. Then something very surprising came along, the glamour I'd so been missing before, the "specialness" I'd longed for as an adolscent seemed to take on its own life inside of me. All of a sudden wearing an $200 pair of shoes didn't seem ridiculous, it was a fashion investment. (I still have those fire engine red Nine West pumps).

As much as I covet Ms. Golightly's wardrobe, I think I'll keep my life. The glamour and the parties and the mobsters all seem alluring at first look, until you realize that even at the end she's waiting to be rescued by someone, waiting for someone else to point out what she should want. As much as I love the movie and even the idea of having breakfast at Tiffany's, I could never imagine waiting around to be rescued from myself. Better to have that moment of self discovery on your own, better to shed off the confines of your situation and then run into the arms of your lover, fresh and freed.

 To all the Holly Golightlys of the world, I wish you peace, happiness and the bravery to free yourself from anything you want to.

Until next time lovlies,
CGINTW

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