There was a time when I wanted nothing more than being cool. But I was only 14 and it was the 1970s and my big 17 year old sister had it all. As usual.
I tried hard. Make-up and cigarettes were involved - secretly, behind my mother's back. Mostly, however, it was music. Those were the days when you swapped albums and made tape recordings and you could win approval for showing off your unusual tastes. Nothing middle of the road, like Genesis or King Crimson, or everyday stuff from the Stones. Anybody could come up with that.
The same with films, and books, and suddenly, you were trying to be an outlaw, a nouvelle vague outlaw, without the slightes idea what it meant. But: black eyeliner, ponytail, dark tights and this dance. For a while, even the French lessons made sense. Briefly.
Anna Karina, the dancer in the middle and my beautiful role model for a time, died last weekend. It's been a while, I still remember the steps, though.
After watching the video, I think I know the steps too. Wasn't she beautiful? I don't remember her at all but a young friend posted yesterday about her death.ReplyDelete
plenty of 'line dances' but I don't think we ever did that one. at least, not me. but the 70s...that decade I got married, divorced, started my glass art studio, got married again and had both my children.ReplyDelete
Although I don't remember her either, somewhere before I saw that wonderful dance scene. Loved the beginning of the clip where she walks her fingers just like Charlie Chaplin with the potatoes. I shouldn't compare, but I can't help but say she is so much more timelessly cool than the two men will ever be. The best is when she is dancing alone. Even though I don't remember her, I definitely wanted to be someone like her when I was a teenager. She was just a year older than Bob Dylan is. For some reason, the film clip made me think of him and his song that mentions a French girl:ReplyDelete
And now this comes to mind: Karina, Karina
Now Karina was cool. Saw her in Alphaville (of which I remember only fragments; jeepers, it was 54 years ago), Cleo from 5 to 7 (Yeah; coolish), Laughter in the Dark (Can't remember a thing other than the book was by Nabokov). I was more of an intellectual then but the onset of varicose veins tends to crimp one's style. Wearing support hose you daren't go paddling in the sea.ReplyDelete
The thing about romantic, artistic outlaws is they are outside the norm. What we want more than anything as a young person, first awaking to our power, is to be unique. I was happy to read this post and to be reminded of that feeling. Her smiles during the dance speak to her joy.ReplyDelete
I remember that era so well. I was just a bit too young to be a part of it, only 12 years old in 1964. But I could sense the hip passions of the moment.ReplyDelete
Where you took this post, or where it took you, so poignant, aching, true.ReplyDelete
the French seem, to me, to be eternally cool. The scarves, the casual but studied fashion sense, Parisians. Chic, tres chic.ReplyDelete