There Is More To Clothes Than Fashion

On our weekend on the farm, I found this wonderful book. It is called “Farm”. Photos by Jackie Nickerson  of Zimbabwian and Malawian farmworkers.

Young Ladies Rebellion or the real Fanny Karst

In my enthusiasm I had already offered a story about Fanny Karst  to a German magazin and when I did some more resarch I quickly found out that the lovely  lady from “Old Ladies Rebellion” on the photo beneath is not Fanny Karst. She is a model. Fanny Karst is a 24-year-old-french designer.

“The Observer” said for five years she has been dreaming about making clothes for 70-year-old women. She has always admired her grandmother, which she decided looked better every year.

I was so embarrassed. I felt fooled. I knew this was too good to be true. My next reaction was indignation and dissappointment: How dare she. How cynical is this? What does she know at her age?!

But this is stupid nonsense. Her clothes remain the same. They are still great. And you can only do this if you really have a heart for it and isn’t it even greater if it comes from a young girl?

I am not convinced about the last bit but at least I made peace with it. I am still  looking  for the real old ladies rebellion, though.

Gory Story

Ein deutsches Magazin fragte mich nach einer sehr kurzen,  erotischen Geschichte. Als ich durch meine  Texte ging, stieß ich auf diesen Monolog, der aus meinem bisher unverfilmten Drehbuch stammt. Ich fand, er passte hervorragend. Wurde leider abgelehnt aus verständlichen Gründen, aber ich dachte ich kann ihn wenigstens hier veröffentlichen. Ich mag ihn wirklich sehr. Vielleicht weil ich in ähnlicher Situation einen ähnlichen Traum hatte, nur die Wende, die er nimmt, die hätte ich damals gerne geträumt und umso erstaunter war ich, als sie beim Schreiben plötzlich auftauchte. Ich bin nicht grausam, aber ich muss zugeben, das Bild gefällt mir. Hier ist sie:

Es geht mir schon viel besser. Ich hatte diesen lustigen Traum. Jemand erzählte mir Witze, einen nach dem anderen. Ich musste so lachen, dass ich davon aufgewacht bin.
Dann bin ich wieder eingeschlafen. Ich lag in einem kalten Raum mit weißen Kacheln. Neben mir lag Theo nackt auf dieser Frau. Sie sahen mich an und lachten. Ich stand auf und ging zu ihr hin. Ich packte sie an den Haaren und riss sie ihr aus. Die blutige Kopfhaut hing an den Wurzeln wie Erde an ausgerissenem Gras. Einen Haarbüschel nach dem anderen riss ich ihr aus, bis sie vollkommen kahl war. Ihre Haare habe ich Theo in den lachenden Mund gestopft, bis kein Ton mehr herauskam.

A German Magazin asked me for a very short, erotical story. I sent them a monolog out of a script I wrote.  They rejected it out of understandable reasons but I would like to share it here:

I am feeling much better already. I had this funny dream. Someone was telling me jokes, one after another. I laughed so hard I woke up. Then I fell asleep again. I was  in this cold, white tiled room. Next to me was Theo, lying naked on top of this woman. They looked at me and laughed. I got up and walked over to her. I grabbed her by her hair and pulled it out. The bloody scalp stuck to the roots like dirt on gras. I ripped out one tuft of hair after the next until she was completely bald. I stuffed her hair into Theos mouth until his laughter was silenced.

Old Ladies Rebellion

Fanny Karst is a very inspiring Lady. I found her website yesterday. While most fashion designer still design fashion for young people even when they are already in their 60s, she designs fashion for women her age. I think she brought the art of getting old to perfection. She made me exciting of what is going to come.

I remember when I was in my 20s, I often felt too young. I looked in the mirror and thought, my face looked  too unexperienced, too inocent. Nobody will take me serious with that face. I admired older women (then 30), who spoke with authority and I wished I could do the same. I couldn’t wait to grow up.

Looking at Fanny Karst, she reminded me of that feeling. I thought, I was still too young and I admired her for her age and her grace. She made me really exciting of what is still to come!

Randoms

Every third time I press the exposure button of my camera it says: lense error. This is getting so frustrating that I gave up trying.
I want a new camera which would cost about 2000 Euro. Plus 1000 Euro for lenses – at least. It wouldn’t make sense to buy anything cheaper. A dilema that needs to be solved. Soon!

I still can’t decide whether to write the blog in English or in German or in both. Most of the time I prefer  English, so that my English and Belgian (huhu Toni!) speaking friends can read it too. They don’t understand German but every German person I know does understand English. Sometimes I write both. Sometimes I write German. I might keep it like that. As I enjoy it.

I have to find a solution for my reading glasses! I spend half of my day looking for them. I don’t want them dangeling around my neck when I don’t wear them. Imagine my eysight is growing so dim that I can’t find my glasses without my glasses. What then?

Not only I seemed to be forgetful today. Sven told me that he was about to take a shower. While he was standing in the bedroom, changing into clean clothes, he felt he had forgotten something. It came to his mind that he had forgotten to take a shower!

I still haven’t done anything with the beautiful fabric R. gave me for my birthday. Too many ideas. Too anxious to cut them.

Love you! Miss you!

Growing Up

One of the greatest advantage of getting older is to care less about others and to care more about yourself. I don’t know why this get’s easier with age. Maybe because others care less about you when you are getting older?
I believe this is part of it.

And once you have realizied this and grieved it and stopped fighting it and start accepting it, because you realize how freeing it is, getting older becomes a real adventure.

High School

We are in preparation for highschool. Luzie had chickenpox only a week ago. She was terrified to start highschool with spots all over her face and body. I did my best and treated her with an oat and honeymask. While she was resting with the mask on her face, I removed black nailpolish from her toenails and green blackboard paint from her fingers and other parts of the body. She made an incredible mess with this paint the night before, leaving a green trace all over the floors, every sink in the house, her hands, her feet, her whole body and I had a headache from all the terpentine I had to use to clean everything (after she had cleaned). I also had to cut her nails, buy supplies for the bookcovering, which seems to be a big deal as if her whole new highschool identity is determined by how cool her bookcovers are, but I wouldn’t understand, because I don’t know ANYTHING.

I had to cut Antons hair down to the required length. Along the ears, and the fringe two fingers above the eybrows. He has A LOT of hair, which the wind blew all over me and I was itching the whole day, but I think I did a good job. I also had to remove nailpolish from three of his toenails.

In the meantime we went about 15 times to the shops and the library and all this AFTER Sven had spent a couple of days buying schoolclothes and stationary.
And Ihad to shorten Luzie’s schoolskirt about 10 centimeters because she is wearing it so low on her hips. When I doubted the right position of the skirt, she said, she asked the woman in the shop and she said the skirt should be worn as you wear your pants. The woman obviously has no clue how low these girls wear their pants.

I get exhausted by thinking about the last two days. Why do I always get the impression that school is first of all a keeping-parents-busy-program?
And making them spend as much money as possible. How do poor people get their kids to school?

Today was the introduction by the student leaders. Luzie belongs to the group of  BIRDS. She has to carry an egg with her for the next two weeks. And if anyone of them wants to speak to the student leader she or he has to do this through a toilet roll which the naughtiest of them has to carry around. They haven’t figuered him out yet. This is only a part of the initiation which will go on for two weeks.

Anton is more worried that no scissors are allowed at school, because pupils used them to stab each other. He started to make pull- and push-ups in the garden, preparing for the worst.

I am worried about EVERYTHING. I spent the morning praying for them and will so for the next days, while they are away, on the bus, 20kms  from home.

I am really looking forward to it, though. This will change our whole life after homeschooling Anton for a year and having him around ALL THE TIME. I am torn between relief and worry.

I will use all my time on the perfekt dress. I got some beautiful fabric for my birthday but I am very reluctant to cut it before I am totally sure about the pattern. I will start with a blue and white pinstripe cottondress. No buttons, no zippers, this is what I kow for now.

The Perfect Dress

I always had this idea about the perfect wardrobe. The perfect dress, the perfect, trousers, the perfect coat, the perfect everything. Once you have found it, you only need little variations on fabric and details, sleve lengths, collar, etc.
Once I found a piece of clothes which came close to perfection, I wore it until it fell apart because I was never able to buy it again.

My friend and greatest supplier and inspiration  once spoke about fashion free clothes and this is exactly what I want.

Not fashion  dominating the person, but the other way round. I  never had a body which fit into the common measuremet. I am 1.80m tall, my hips and my legs are small, but my bum is big. Every body has it’s features that needs to be enhanced and other parts that need to be covered. I realized I will never find a dress when I came out of the changing room and stood next to a girl who wore the same dress, was half my height and it fit her perfectly.

I gave up shopping for dresses, because they were always 10 centimeters too short. The waistline always at my ribs, I looked like I had outgrown them.

Now I want to wear dresses. I am 47, I have silver hair and I want to look effortless elegant. I want a dress which makes me look great and which I can wear every day on every occasion. Which always feels comfortable and appropriate. In which I can work, walk, run, dance, sleep, cook, eat, dig in the garden, party, go to church and always look stunning.

I don’t like buttons (or at least only a few) or zippers. I want to be able to easily slip into it. I thought about a wrap dress, but I am not so sure about them anymore. I am thinking more about a shirt dress without buttons, which would make it a tunic dress.
A pattern which would allow many variations and always would stay the perfect dress. I am working on it right now. Maybe I will be searching for it for the rest of my life and on my way producing many almost perfect dresses.

Ich hatte immer die Vorstellung von der perfekten Gaderobe. Dem perfekten Kleid, der perfekten Hose, u.s.w. Einen Schnit, den, hat man einmal gefunden nur geringe Variationen braucht in Stoff, Ärmellänge, und kleinen Detailes.

Meine Freundin Anette, Kostümdesignerin, die mich immer mit Kleidern versorgt hat, sprach einmal von Modefreien Kleidern und ich dachte, genau das ist es. Nicht der Mensch soll sich der Mode unterordnen, sondern genau umgekehrt muss es sein. Die Kleidung dient dem Menschen und bringt seine Vorzüge heraus, ohne sich dabei in den Vordergrund zu drängelen. Kleider müssen bescheiden sein in dem Sinne, dass sie nur dazu dienen ihren Träger hervorzuheben.

Ich hatte nie einen Körper, der in Konfektionsgrössen passte. Ich bin 1.80m gross und bei Kleidern sitzt mir die Taillie immer auf den Rippen. Ich sehe aus, als wäre ich herausgewachsen. Ich habe das lange nicht begriffen und dachte immer, Kleider sind einfach nichts für mich, bis ich eines Tages aus der Umkleidekabine kam und neben mir eine Frau stand, einen Kopf kleiner als ich, mit exakt demselben Kleid und es saß ihr perfekt.

Jetzt will ich endlich Kleider tragen. Ich bin 47, habe silberne Haare und träume von einer lässigen Eleganz. Ein Kleid, das schnell übergeworfen, immer elegant ist, dazu bequem und bei jeder Gelegeheit zu tragen. Ein Kleid indem ich stehen, gehen, rennen, schlafen, tanzen, kochen, essen, feiern, im Garten graben und in die Kirche gehen kann und  immer perfekt gekleidet bin.

Daran arbeite ich jetzt. Vielleicht werde ich mein Leben lang danach suchen, aber auf diesem Weg viele fast perfekte Kleider produzieren.

No More Excuses

Frohes neues Jahr! Mein Vater sagte darauf heute, das neue Jahr ist schon  alt.  Fühlt sich für mich noch sehr frisch an.  Mein neues Jahr beginnt ohnehin erst am 5. Januar. Mein Geburtstag.

Das Motto für dieses Jahr heißt:

NO MORE EXCUSES

Ich habe eine Nähmsachine bekommen und bin darüber sehr begeistert. Ich habe seit 20 Jahren oder so keine mehr besessen und habe schon Vorhänge genäht. Sehr einfach, einfach zwei Säume oben und unten, aber jetzt hab ich große Lust auf mehr und beginne Schnitte zu entwerfen und abzunehmen von Lieblingskleidern, die auseinanderfallen.

Diesen Stoff (Antler Damask Sky by Joel Dewberry) habe ich gestern gefunden und ich würde gerne so ein Kleid (Diane von Fürstenberg) nähen:

Etwas, in das ich mich schnell wickeln kann, wenn ich aus dem Bett komme und trotzdem elegant aussehe. Einen Morgenrock.

Und ich möchte in drei Monaten meinen Roman fertiggeschrieben haben (no more excuses!) und mehr fotografieren.

Jetzt wird erstmal das Haus entmistet und die Wände gestrichen. Neujahrsputz.

This years motto is: NO MORE EXCUSES

Nothing can keep me from anything. How exciting this will be. My father said this morning, when I wished him a happy new year, this year is already old. Still feels pretty new to me. My new years starts at the 5th of January anyway. My birthday.

My friend gave me sewing machine and I am  excited about that. I am a seamestress but haven’t been sewing for 20 years or so. The machine was given to her by the woman that used to live in our house before us. She gave it to her and told her she should give it to someone who needed it. And there it came back to the house. Funny isn’t it. I already sewed some courtains. Very simple, but I am planing to do some serious sewing projects in the near future.

I found the fabric above. I love colourful floral and ornamental desingns to my surprise. I loved the Deer Valley collection by Joel Dewberry and the Fürstenberg wrapdresses.

Otherwise I want to finish my novel in less than three month, and start to work as a photographer. All things I have learned and studied and never really used for such a long time.

But for now we start to declutter our house and paint our walls. I need a workshop!

Goodbye 2009

Thinking about things I want to get rid off with the old year I came up with two so far.
Number One: a few kilos. Came (again) to the realization that to keep my ideal weight I either have to stay hungry or start seriously exercising. Probably both, which is totally unrealistic. I start with cutting out sugar (as much as possible) and eat only half of what I would eat normally.
Liz Hurley said she only eats once a day, but then until she is full. Stuffing myself once a day? Might be an option. I hate being over my comfortable weight.

Another thing is envy. Sometimes I drift into envy. I start to envy people for things which I don’t have for a reason. I envy people who have a regular income, though I don’t want to work in a regular job. I envy people who live in a beautiful house, though I never wanted to make an effort to save and pay and buy and build and paint and decorate and hunt for furnintures.

The point is, I am actually very content with my life and everything in it is because I made a conscious choice for it. Only sometimes I am tired of my life and I want to live someone elses life. Only to find out, this is not for me. It is an old bad habit which doesn’t even makes sense to me. I will put it now into the big black bag.

Eins der Dinge, die ich im alten Jahr zurücklassen möchte sind ein paar Kilos (dafür wird es leider schon zu spät sein).

Ich kam (mal wieder) zu der Einsicht dass ich, um mein Idealgewicht zu halten entweder dauherhaft hungern muss oder mich ernsthaft bewegen. Beides ist eher unrealistisch.

Liz Hurley behauptet sie esse nur einmal am Tag, dann aber so richtig. Mich einmal am Tag vollstopfen und ansosnsten hungern wäre vielleicht eine Lösung.

Eine andere schlechte Angewohnheit, die ich gerne zurücklassen möchte ist Neid. Manchmal beneide ich Menschen für etwas, das ich aus gutem Grund nicht habe. Ich beneide sie um ein festes Einkommen, obwohl ich keinen regelmässigen Job haben möchte, oder um ein Haus, ohne dass ich den ganzen Aufwand jemals auf mich nehmen möchte. Nicht so, dass ich es ihnen nicht gönne, sondern, dass ich es auch haben will.Es ist eine alte Gewohnheit, die eigentlich längst überholt ist, sie überrascht mich selbst, wenn sie sich selten genug anschleicht. Sie will ich in die grosse schwarze Abfalltüte stecken.

Ich bin im Grunde sehr und sogar mehr als zufrieden mit meinem Leben. Alles, was ich habe oder nicht habe, ist mit einer bewussten Entscheidung dafür oder dagegen verbunden. Nur manchmal möchte ich ein wenig Abwechslung und das Leben einer anderen  für kurze Zeit leben, nur um danach desto lieber in mein eigenes Leben zurückzukommen. Oder auch nicht, wer weiß. Hab es ja noch nie versucht. Wäre eigentlich ein guter Romanstoff.