Here the last few lines from my book “From Barbie to Vibrator”:
The book brought me back to life.
But then, there was silence. And it lasted for a few days.
Patrick called first: “I knew it! It is all about Propella, Propella! It should have been called Propella Follies and not Laudonplace Follies!” Beware of furious French Queens!
Siggi called next: “We read it, it is magnificent! It must be published!”
Then, Marcus called from Australia, totally excited: “We had such a sexy pilot on the flight! And he is STRAIGHT! During the whole flight, he was reading your book! He asked if all those sex things are true! He wants to meet you!”
At first, I liked the idea of meeting the pilot. Especially if he is still wearing his uniform. But then I imagined a plain crash in a jungle and somebody finding my book on pilot’s lap….. Oooops!
Message to all pilots:
Please, read my books in your hotel room. And for heaven’s sake, don’t take that uniform off! Wait until I am there! And yes, the sex parts are true.
Ah, I really like the idea of publishing this book
I’m doing this because yesterday, I heard shocking news that the pilot from this story, the last character in my book, died in a car crash couple of days ago. I heard he was handsome, charming and very professional. He was in his early forties and had one child. I never met him (the character Ana is not Ana) but I was deeply shocked about this news. A character from my book has died.
It is a strange feeling. Sad.
And I hate sounding kitschy, but I’m happy that with those few sentences, I was able grant him yet one more dimension of eternity.
RIP.
45 Years of Chiffon
Saturday, July 31st, 2010Almost fainted in my bathroom while re-reading the June issue of British Vogue today. Those cool British fashion people had a wonderful idea of shooting a fashion editorial in Cuba ( with pictures of Che in the background of course). Because enormously expensive clothing looks soooo boring against a non-contrasting background.
On one of the pictures, a svelte blond model (looking like an alien who just landed on Cuba) is sitting in front of a shabby wooden door painted with a Cuban flag, wearing what is described as following:
“HOW BETTER TO HANDLE THE HEAT THAN CHLOÉ’S WHITE WASHED BREEZY, CHIFFON LAYERS? Pleated silk cape, £910 (€1100). Pleated silk dress, £4,510 (€5400). Both Chloé, at Chloé, Harvey Nichols, Matches and Selfridges”
Average monthly salary in Cuba is £10. This means that someone can live for 45 years from these the two pieces of white washed breezy chiffon layers. 542 people can survive for a month.
What to say about this enormous amount of stupidity, ignorance and lack of sensibility? Except “I’ll never buy that shitty magazine again”. And be proud of handling the heat in a white cotton t-shirt (€5, at H&M).
P.S. I couldn’t fall asleep last night, so instead counting sheep, I did a bit more math. 45 yearly salaries translated to UK-terms would mean taking a picture of a Cuban woman in front of the Buckingham Palace wearing 2 layers of (white washed breezy) chiffon worth £1,045,980 (€1,257,036). Have fun shopping!
Tags: Capitalism, Commentary, Consumerism, System
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