Archive for September 19th, 2007


Red Bubbles of Thought

I always saw, I always said
If I were grown and free,
I’d have a gown of reddest red
As fine as you could see,

To wear out walking, sleek and slow,
Upon a Summer day,
And there’d be one to see me so
And flip the world away.

And he would be a gallant one,
With stars behind his eyes,
And hair like metal in the sun,
And lips too warm for lies.

I always saw us, gay and good,
High honored in the town.
Now I am grown to womanhood….
I have the silly gown.

The Red Dress – Dorothy Parker

It is the most shockingly, flagrantly flaming shade of pure red that I have ever seen.  It shines and gleams with a life of its own even as it lays on the pristine, paleness of my bedsheet.  It escapes all the common metaphors of being fire-engine or a tomato or a cherry.  It’s not even the red of a rose in its prime nor the deep red of a drop of blood.  It is this well of colour oozing just this side of crimson almost bordering on that edge where colours fade into black but its red.  It is the colour guaranteed to make people stop and look if simply to try and align themselves to the sheer shock of the hue bright enough to tint all things around it.

It is a stunning display of all things considered taboo; whether you wish to look at it in terms of so blatantly asking for attention while doing away with the conventions of the day.  Wasn’t this the colour when worn had ladies of the ton in 17th and 18th century Europe to fan themselves, scandalized and gave birth to a thousand whispers that could cement the woman’s reputation as being questionable?  Yet it was this self same hue that was a mark of all things sensual and tempting… Maybe that’s where the pictorial aspect of the devil in a red suit complete with horns and a tail came through…

But to get back to this!!!  This appears to be poetry in motion.  It flows and floats and drapes where it lies almost caressing the surface below.  I was reminded of an oil painting I saw a long time ago depicting a sheikh’s opulent lifestyle even in the cruel parsimony of the desert where the inside of a tent was veiled with flowing gauzes of silks and lace to lend the illusion of the most decadent grandeur.

And it’s all mine.  Oh, I am so looking forward to getting this stitched.  In case, you haven’t figured it out, I am talking about my most glorious purchase in ages.  This silky, smooth wonderful bolt of cloth shaded the most wonderful, gorgeous, startling red.  It’s the kind of thing that needs no adornment, no fancy cuts to add to it.  All it will need is a tailor who can manage simple, straight lines and a ‘newly refined’ silhouette thanks to drastic weight loss. 😀

Did I say All it will need…?  The weight loss might be managed but heaven help me, where will I find a tailor who will actually do as he/she is asked rather than trying to showcase their unseen talent… 



“When I am with you, we stay up all night.
When you’re not here, I can’t go to sleep.

Praise God for those two insomnias!
And the difference between them.”

Jalal ad-Din Rumi

September 2007