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05 September 2011

Some red (against all odds)

"Mom, I'll tell you a secret now! Ready?"
"Shoot, I'm all ears!"
"Remember Luca, my tutor at the summer camp?"
"Sure, that nice boy you loved."
"Yeah, well ... he's soooo goodlooking!"
"Is he?" Big smile. "Are you in love?"
"Oh, no, no, I can't because he's nice but also very ... stupid! He does stupid things."
"Really? Like what?"
"You know, he's always together with boys, he doesn't watch me. Things like that."
"He's a typical boy, then."
"Maybe. But's he looks oh sooooo nice!"
"Like all men, sweetie. You'll get more of this, be prepared!"

I melt when my baby speaks like this. Primarly because she's sharing such important thoughts with me, she makes me feel privileged and it's a nice proof she trusts me, and then also because I couldn't tell such intimate things to my mother. Guys and dating were a big taboo for my family. Even when I dated seriously, they never encouraged dialogue. I didn't complain as long as they didn't interfere, since they didn't like the boy.

There are so many other things my parents didn't find natural, things that should be part of any parent's duty. They avoided the doctor like plague, for instance. You were treated only when something was serious, otherwise you beared and didn't spread the world, because talking about health issues was not correct. Doctors were necessary only for important things, though I must admit I never understood what's important for them, since my mother waited for 7 years before finally having her myoma removed. When she did, it weighed 1.7 kg and it felt like she was 7 months pregnant. She made history in her ob's career. 

Therefore I only found out about my skin allergies when I was an adult (at my own interest and expenses.) I have an irregular front tooth, consequence of an accident after eruption. That accident was the proof of how irresponsible my father is. But anyhow, having my injured tooth aligned in some way was not even considered. I stopped bleeding and I looked fine, that was enough for them to feel okay about it.

Sorry, I had to share this for my outing! :)

Also, I was deficient in calcium, my legs are slightly crooked. Because of that,  my feet do not rest well on the ground. I need a check-out by the posture specialist before 'oldhood' influences my back or deteriorates my way of walking. Mental note for that. The least thing I walk is ending on a wheel chair. Okay, now you know all about my secrets here! Ah ah! 

No, really, I'm perfectly healthy, just a few problems here and there, consequence of my parents negligence, but the thing that truly annoys and even scares me a little is the the total absence of sun protection they put me through. I wish my tan-obsessed mother didn't crazily exposed me to the sun, because now I've to deal with countless moles and even sunspots on my face. I went to the Dermatologist just to make sure they weren’t cancerous. She said they weren’t but to keep an eye on them.

I never investigate the source of such negligence. I want to hope they were like that simply because they were the result of an archaic southern culture that didn't trust health system rather than facing the truth and accepting they never cared about me. I'm a mother myself now, I know how my baby's health is precious, the endless efforts I attempt to drive her to adulthood in the best nurturing way. Comparing is quite natural and, boy, I've difficulties to understand. 

I just don't get it. That's why maternity wasn't a reason of closer relationship with my mother. Many women reconnect with their own mothers on that important phase of life, while for me it was more an opportunity to finally adfirm my true, different self and to develop as a human being who cares. The more my daughter grew and developped milestones, the more I separated from my mother.

Oh well, I'm copying with that. "Nobody really believes that it is enough to share the surname of a father to claim a common seed: behind the act that leads to the surname there is a cosmic untraceable path that makes a mockery of human will and his poor choices, such as innocents' convinctions. That must be why many adults throughout their lives try to get rid of their own blood family adfirming others decided personally." Michela Murgia, extract from her story "The meeting."

Another taboo for my family was ... the color red. Red is hot. Red is Cupid and the Devil. Red is power. And in their culture, red is sin. Red lipstick, red nails were banned because they were whores' accessories. They didn't know, in their utter ignorance, that in some cultures red denotes purity, joy, and celebration. Red is the color of happiness and prosperity in China, for instance. It may be used to attract good luck there. For them red was only an ultra hot color whom I had to stay away at all costs.

Red is such a feminine color instead! I've always liked the way it enhances both brunettes and blondies, because its different tones match with any type of skin and give the impression that you are lively, sexy and appealing at the same time. Everyone looks a little more daring in red, too. Incomparable Sophia Loren knew it well. She wore lots of red, it helped bring her Mediterranean sensuality to the forefront.

Mosaic created with pics taken from fanpix
"A woman dress should be like a barbed-wire fence: serving its purpose withouth obstructing the view." Loren on an interview on Good Morning America credits

There are many other women with great confidence I admire and who are stunning in red, like Helen Mirren and Queen Latifah, women who embody how I want to feel about myself, independet and active, making my own choices and being a sexual creature. My parents repressed me way too much, so it's been really tough for me to finally get to where I am. It's been a journey learning to love my body and feel my own sexiness.

Now I feel fabulous about myself just as I am and I wear lots of red accessories, I dare paint my nails in red too! I think it is a very huge step, considering what my background is. It lets me tell the world that I have it going on, but it also reminds me in a very Dorothy kind of way that I have it in me all the time to create the life that I want.

Red shoes are a symbol of the journey one takes toward becoming one's true authentic self. "Not only are they a bold and daring fashion statement, but they occupy a special place at the intersection of empowerment and visibility. TV makeover shows regularly portray women transforming their wardrobes, and themselves, from dowdy and self-doubting (invisible) to confident and empowered (bright and visible)." credits

Exactly like Alex in Flashdance, wearing those sexy, lovely red heels, symbol of her personal determination to head in her direction: dance.

Nick: When you give up your dream, you die.

Exactly like Vicky in The Red Shoes (1948 film).

Lermontov: Why do you want to dance?
Vicky: Why do you want to live?
Lermontov: Well, I don't know exactly why, but... I must.
Vicky: That's my answer too.

And exactly like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz.

"Now click your heels three times and say 'There's no place like home' ..."

There's an interesting and inspiring article I found on PsychologyToday, called Announcing the shameless Red Shoes Society. Everybody should read it. Then perhaps everybody will get the idea of how important it is to start asking for what we want that will make us feel good now.


  1. What a wonderful relationship you and Alice have. My mom is young and still wasn't too open to dialogue about boys and that kind of stuff. I was in a school only for girls so you can imagine how innocent and scare I was about those matters. Alice is so lucky to have you as her mom :) Kisses!

  2. I agree with Oli, Alice is really lucky :)

  3. Thank you! It delights me to hear this from you, since all my efforts for being a mother, a grandmother and a sister for my child is hard job. xxx


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