A bathtub haped like an elegant pump shoe with a skyscraper heel taht costs “just” $17,000. Designer Massimiliano Della Monaca.

Yesterday at some point I posted on FB: “I pray my entire day runs as brilliant as it began”.

It did. Exactly @ midnight, my lucky streak shut down abruptly.

Let’s unravel the events one by one…

The entire day ran smoothly, I was very efficient and solved a lot of problems.

In the evening, I was very excited to see a Natalie Cole concert.

The bonus was the lovely company I had during and after the concert.

The concert was much more than I hoped. The band and the musical arrangement were great.  

Miss Cole looked amazing. She had a classic evening wear – a white satin bodice and a long rich veil skirt. She wore it with royal grace and sparkling accessories, a supermodel figure and a silky impeccable skin.

Her microphone, bracelet, necklace and mind-blowing shoes seemed to be created as a set.

Her voice… spectacular. Sexy, warm, velvety… She honed her craft spectacularly.

Now she’s a great performer.

Sense of humor, sensibility, memories and good words.

Though she was married & divorced three times, she still believes in love. Because you can’t sing about love with such passion if you lost your faith.

I actually forgot to breathe at times.

Sometimes she reminded me of her father, sometimes Etta James, sometimes great Aretha.

Purrrrfect.

I wanted the evening to last forever… I was so intoxicated with both the music and the body heat beside me.

I wanted MORE – I wanted a big band in the background – trumpets, sax, and violins.

But at some point it had to end, so we continued the evening at my favorite restaurant, with gourmet food and refined wine.

Aaaaand exactly at the stroke of midnight, my carriage turned back into a pumpkin, as I misplaced my phone!

True – my pray asked for ONE day to go on magnificent. Mission fully accomplished.

I have never thought shall write about a perfume. I like perfumes, but I never before have fallen in love with one.

First, I saw the ad in a magazine. The picture by Juergen Teller with model Karlie Kloss.

Like most perfume ads, the expected composition: the flawless model & the product.

I liked the bottle, it seemed funny and daring.

But yesterday I went in Sephora to buy some cosmetics. After I checked at the counter, I stumbled upon the real thing.

I was mesmerized… The plump purple shape with the burst of flower on top…

It looked much better than the picture. I looked at the bottle for a loooong time. It was like standing in front of a masterpiece. I couldn’t stop gazing. It was crush at first sight.

Such a beauty should belong to an art gallery.

Finally I gathered the strength to reach for that precious object. I was scared that the scent doesn’t rise to the height of the design.

I awkwardly sprayed a few molecules on my wrist and let it rest before I actually inspired.

Suddenly an entire gallery of feelings and images filled my mind. I shall try to write down some of the thoughts that flashed in my mind minutes in row, as I kept inhaling the elixir.

Cocktails based on crushed berries that get you so drunk you dare anything,

neon colored 80’s pumps, high hair, disco music,

Andy Warhol’s  From the Bottom of my Garden

All the beautiful people in Studio 54,

Gentlemen prefer blondes… Diamonds are a girl’s best friend

Rita Hayworth as Gilda

Of course, Lola by The Kinks

LONDON, my love

Pink Martini’s “je ne veux pas travailler” or maybe the entire concert

outfits in block colors but also floral prints,

sultry music while being caressed by a macho man,

the whooshing sound of a nude colored satin slip… a tangerine silk gown, a black taffeta skirt,

the sea waves, sunscreen on the heated tanned skin, a fluffy bright pink towel, a sun umbrella through you watch the bright sun, seagull calls

Dali’s red lips sofa

dancing till dawn

feeling a DIVA

flirting like crazy

the most handsome man I know

I came out for air and opened my eyes. I was completely under the spell of a scent.

It’s not the first time Marc Jacobs brings homage to pop art.

He did this collection for Louis Vuitton where he was pictured in the ads naked and covered in letters.  

Maybe the pictures don’t make them justice, nor do they really praise the memory of Stephen Sprouse.

Maybe they would have the same effect on me…

But for now, this will be the next trophy for my crib. The beautiful bottle filled with the most amazing bash & mash of art.

***

On a completely different note, OPI has a new range of nail polish, ironically called nic’s stick. I wonder if it’s a reference to Nick the Dick from the movie Bachelor Party…

Anyway it’s a stick with fast dry polish you can apply even while being in traffic, especially in Bucharest. By the time you reach your destination, your manicure is perfectly dried and looks great.

I chose a shade that looks like old blood stains. Ok, it’s creepy, in a Lady Macbeth manner, but it looks good.

I think the first time I encountered this type of theory was Asimov’s Naked Sun. Humans lost their ability to have actual… human contact.

They projected holograms and allowed only the presence of robots around them. Furthermore, the human contact was not only obsolete, but utterly disgusting.

Imagine that this book was published in 1957. Check the real prophets of literature: Wells, Orwell, Asimov and watch out.

In 1995, The Net was another alarm pulled by visionaries. I freaked out after that movie because I realized we are moving fast toward that direction: a life in seclusion with everything at hand, but nobody around.

And it started: internet, mobile phones, home delivery, online shopping, SMS, messenger…

Net 2.0 that allowed people to actually live virtual lives and interact with no fear of harm.

Second life, blogs, social networks…

And some people – I repeat: SOME – took it literally. Tools of communication used INSTEAD of real life.

Next step?  Surrogates. You hide in the safety of your house, while an improved version of yourself lives your life. How you would like to live it, but don’t have the confidence to do.

Maybe it’s a good idea. You feel braver and you might achieve more, have an adventurous life and evolve more than you would ever dream.

How about the cliché “no pain, no gain”?

If you become so frightened of getting hurt, of discomfort, pain, rejection, how can you truly appreciate triumph, pleasure, happiness?

I meet young people that would rather spend their life behind a keyboard than go out. They flirt online with partners they would never meet in the flesh. They dare more, they prove a sense of humor, wit, charm.

And than you challenge them to a real life conversation. No keyboards, no SMS abbreviated language – maimed communication in my opinion – and they are unable to emit a plain sentence!  

Hoards of young people – they look the best they will ever look, they have the stamina they will never get back and they practice abstinence like brushing their teeth. Why? It’s easier, cleaner, no complications, no disillusions. The easy way out.

I’m still an optimist. I still hope it’s just a trend. And trends come and go. The need of companionship, of human touch, of reaching out and actually meeting a real person will come back.

We are ultimately animals. A species that lives in groups. Not in seclusion. We are supposed to interact to survive and evolve.

I’m positive also that one day we’ll be searching and finding life mates, not affairs. Maybe not your average traditional couple. Maybe it will be a best friend for a lifetime.

I don’t know what will be. But I hope we’ll go out and meet real people, have real talks even if sometimes they generate blow ups. It’s good, because they are followed by making up.

For the moment, I’m watching like a hawk my Facebook agenda. I keep only people I have something in common with, we met at some point or we actually share something.

I don’t want just an impressive count of unknown faces, of people who have nothing to give and I’ll probably never want to meet.

I’ll just take the best of evolution: better, faster communication tools to share thoughts and feelings with friends.

No exhibitionism, no drawing attention with shocking messages just to seem interesting for 3 minutes or less.

Why would I? I still have the privilege to share a real life with real people who are able to SPEAK and LISTEN.

Follow my lead, get the fuck OUT!

birds of a feather…

Part of growing up and adapting to changes is doing some paperwork.

For this, I need various officials on the way.

First step: look for a notary. Great, found one in my building.

Enter, sit down. First sentence the lady notary says toward her assistant: “I don’t know what to do with Musette, she has no appetite lately… ”

Of course, this generates an entire flood of information and insights between two cat worshipers.

Second encounter: my barrister’s assistant comes by my parents for some papers. She calls me afterward.

I don’t understand a word she’s saying, but I recognize the cooing specific to a cat worshiper who just encountered a new specimen.

All I could get was “ragdoll” – all else was unintelligible excitement.

Okkkk, moving on.

Last evening I invited a neighbor to read the numbers on my water counters, as it seems I’m not able to understand how they work.

OMG, an old man, obviously blue collar melts and babbles baby talk meeting my cats. He wouldn’t leave.

He begged Wes to come out, but my dark devil was in his shy mood. He knew exactly how to pet a cat, ho to lure it close and receive the affectionate rubbing against the leg.

Also recently I found out that in my building there is also a firm that takes care of the FOURTEEN cats that reside in the parking space.

Every day they lay plastic plates and fill them with cat food. The hoards come from nowhere, feed and vanish.

So the mad cat lady that I am has a colorful company.

I tried to read across the theory of Generations by William Strauss and Neil Howe. Their study regarding my generation is not applicable, as is referring solely to the US inhabitants.

The social context for the X generation was completely different on the dark side of the Iron Curtain.

However, I can describe my path as Nomad, though not according to their definition: “A Nomad (or Reactive) generation is born during an Awakening, spends its rising adult years during an Unraveling, spends midlife during a Crisis, and spends old age in a new High.”

I was born during socialism, I grew up in fierce communism with all the shortcomings included: restrictions, fear, no heat, no hot water, no food, no cosmetics, no access to information or possibility to travel…

I couldn’t even dream of more than the bear necessity – and I still cherish my tub filled with hot water and scented foam like a divine ritual.

Times changed, I was a student and the chaos after the revolution was unraveling. The incipient, wrongly applied democracy with the few choices we began to have.

Step by step, I discovered the taste of cuisine, the feel of a good quality piece of clothing, the effect of a good face cream and most of all – the masterpiece that a SHOE can be.

Step by step I started traveling, exploring, discovering, learning…

Cities, differences, customs…

Music, movies, books…

Lovers, toys, sex pleasures  

Changing careers, changing tools & means of communication

 People, acquaintances, friends.

I changed my job and my house so many times, I don’t care to keep track…

Each year adds a new color in my chameleon palette.

Seldom I feel so tired of so frequent changes, but most of the time I enjoy it like a baby who gets new toys and contraptions to examine and play.

I’m not only a Nomad, I’m a Gemini to the bone – the spirit who is fueled by the continuum adjustment.

Looking back, I feel blessed to witness and be part of all these changes. And I feel very content that I kept my head above the troubled waters every time the wave hit.

A few days ago, I looked for some old pictures. You know what?

I’m looking at these images of a funny girl, with turned up nose and a little simian face. Than I look in the mirror and I find so little resemblance.

As now I am beautiful.

First, a thought that crossed my mind just now.

I rose from my chair and slipped my feet in my Missoni kitten heels. While stepping towards the water cooler, I realized they hurt. Badly.

And immediately I thought: men are like shoes – if they hurt you, dump them right away.

Which I actually do with both. No regrets.

BUT

This is not the object of this post.

I had the privilege to witness two beautiful love stories recently.

One is a man whose wife threw a surprise party. She sneaked and hid for almost a month to plan everything just right.

The reward was spectacular.

The man wept. You must understand he is a macho man, a misogynic pig… who adores his wife. And she adores him back.

He told me the following: “I didn’t cry at my wedding or when my two children were born. I cried two times in my life: when my mother died and tonight.”

Just to see them looking at each other restores my confidence in love. They are the most sappy cliché of lovey doveys after some years together & 2 children.

And the bitch can’t stop from adding: “like I was once with my ex…”

OK, maybe it’s not forever. But for now, it’s so wonderful.

***

Second story goes like this:

I am one of the few people who loves to go to the dentist. No, I’m not masochist. I am scared of dentist since forever. But I love this dentist in particular.

It’s a female doctor. Ageless for me – as I can’t appreciate people’s ages. Blonde, slim, always tanned, always caring, sweet, in a good mood…

She unfolded her love story accidentally one day. She met her husband in the first year of medical school. It was love at first sight. They stayed together. They got married. They tried to have children for 12 years, than they gave up. They were sure it would be just the two of them forever. Two years later, she got pregnant out of the blue.

Their child studies Economics in Boston today. They are together for 34 years and still love each other madly.

And the bitch asks herself: did any of them ever cheat? Did the other one find out but swallowed his pride and fought for his/ her soul mate? Did they ever have bad times when they thought of divorce?

We’ll never know, ‘cause I’ll never dare to ask.

Anyway, both stories are very beautiful and it helps when you feel like every man you meet is like a pair of shoes: you invest in something that seems worthy just to get hurt and disappointed sooner or later.

Are there any shoes for a lifetime of happiness?

I finished arranging my new apartment, I fought the cockroaches and I won, I began my new job with a fast forward trip to Prague.

I haven’t visited Prague – I want to be clear on that.

I moved my ass to and from the hotel 150m down the street to work.

One evening, I dared some shopping in the Shopping Palladium, and what a lovely shopping that was .

The little conclusions I could draw from such a brief experience are:

-       Though I’m a wine person, the best beer I ever drank is Pilsner Urquell. I would take it over wine when offered the chance

-       The best food anywhere, no disappointments.

-       Clean, VERY clean streets

-       Completely hectic traffic lights – you have to run like a cheetah from one side of the street to the other. It’s almost impossible not to be surprised by the light turning red while you’re still crossing.

-       The worst services – it’s the first time I feel my country is not as bad as other former communist countries. I haven’t seen such laziness, self sufficiency, lack of will to please the client, rudeness ultimately anywhere else.

-       Camaieu brand is value for money – lovely designs for affordable prices.

-       One restaurant decorated especially for me with hundreds of cats – paintings, sculptures, lamps, chairs… EVERYTHING. It was a pancake place where you could choose from a wide variety of salted or sweet fillings. Exceptional.

-       Another restaurant based on the insight that people can’t decide what to eat. So you could eat a little of everything.  And you had a lot to choose from.

Four days of work that felt like a never ending inferno. I missed the challenge to size my skills against my equals from other countries and charm anyone.

I missed the Babylon that is a worldwide agency, where you’re not from Paris or Kiev, you’re a copy or an art. You have common insights, same sense of humor, same joie de vivre.

People with whom you can click instantly, find common interests, same favorite author or shoe brand.

Oh, how I’ve missed that for so long. Once again, I’m back, though it wasn’t a good idea to climb on my highest heels today, as I’m not too steady on my feet…

hot raspberry & vanilla icecream – of course

How about camel?

These are a few of my chosen items from the fall collections. Enjoy.

All pictures, courtesy of style.com