Thoughts

Running in Heels in Hollywood Movies

So this has been on my mind for a while, but then, anything related to shoes always is. Be patient and read on to find out more.

Germany’s lockdown back in the spring of this year (which year is it, again?) and consequently spending more time at home led me to increase Netflix subscriber numbers. This, in turn, led to some nostalgic movie viewing, such as…

The Devil Wears Prada (2006)

Miranda Priestly, played by the inimitable Meryl Streep, regardless of what one thinks of the character, was one of the cinematic figures on my list who contributed to not being afraid of going grey. Then there’s Andy Sachs, played by Anne Hathaway, who says the truth about those belts looking the same, but unfortunately finds no supporters at Runway magazine.

Morning Glory (2010)

Becky Fuller, wonderfully played by Rachel McAdams, wants to succeed in her job so bad, even we can taste it, and we’re both sympathetic and a little scared of her. Funny, why wasn’t I scared of Miranda Priestly? Lots of good dialogue in this one, also thanks to Diane Keaton and Harrison Ford. Moving on.

Jurassic World (2015)

I saw this one in the movies (in another life) and I enjoyed it a lot. Claire Dearing, played by Bryce Dallas Howard, makes for a stylish workaholic within the walls of the enormous dinosaur park, until circumstances prove she’s more than an executive in a pair of heels.

Thus we come to one of the common themes in all three films (and many others): all the aforementioned characters run in heels, with Claire’s jogs and sprints after the dinosaurs run amok probably taking the cake, although spending hours on your feet during Paris Fashion Week or running after colleagues and disgruntled news anchors in attempts to persuade them to do work might be right up there. Kitten heels are also hard to run in, by the way, so that one’s not a way out.

The distinction is that all the shoes involved were pointy stiletto heels with thin soles balancing women of various height and stature. As someone who has tried various types of shoe, fully embracing the trial and error experience, I have been astounded again and again over the years that the Hollywood myth of a woman being able to run for her life or to make a deadline in those heels was being perpetuated with such persistence. No amount of calm, seemingly rationalized discussion afterwards during interviews and panels could convince me otherwise. Isn’t it a shame as well that instead of focusing on storytelling, acting, plotlines, technology, moral issues, good old entertainment and action, all that juicy stuff we seek out movies for, both the media and viewers get sidetracked by these ridiculous scenes?

OK, so the aforementioned movies each have half or more than a whole decade on them, and maybe things will change. I still enjoy different types of shoes and I can understand the appeal of a heel (that sounds cool when you say it out loud). Heels add a certain type of elegance to an outfit, they change your walk and some of them simply look beautiful. The trick is simply to pick the right type of heel that neither adds to long-term foot damage or turns enjoying the day to getting through the day – big difference. If it were a nicely cut, balanced, not too tall block or at least thicker heel, I could maybe believe those running scenes, based on personal experience. But stillettos? Instead of enjoying the movie, I spend my time tensely expecting the heel to snap and our character to break her ankle.

The bigger question arising from this (you might think random) topic, yet again, is not even how much creative license we’re willing to accept, but what kind of fantasy we want to be sold, a question which applies to both male and female characters. I’m all for escapism and suspending disbelief, but I suppose when we are watching stories about “real” people, there’s an internal line we draw somewhere. With the tip of our suitably chosen shoe.

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Thoughts

The Real Paris Dream

If I got the opportunity to move to Paris, here’s what my dream version of life there would look like.

Before I go, I have spent at least a year doing an intensive course, speaking with natives, immersing myself in French content and research about Paris. I’m confident enough with my language skills to know that I will move beyond Bonjour when I arrive and I will be able to get myself to wherever I need to go next. I will ask any questions I happen to think of along the way and no one at the airport will even get a chance to come up to me and ask, “Madame, vous-parlez fran├žais?” as I briefly pause by the ticket machines for my train.

My apartment might be tiny, but there will be an enormous window, either floor-length or with a window seat. No matter how small, the place will be in good condition, the shower will be working, and if it does break, my French will be sufficient to fend for myself as I try to find someone to fix problem. If I happen to have an attractive downstairs neighbor, I will not make the mistake of confusing his floor for mine, instead identifying distinguishing landmarks for myself to make sure I arrive at my own door. Maybe I’ll lay down a doormat. By the way, I’ll also take a smaller window, just as long as there is one. Oh, and a safe neighborhood would be nice, doesn’t matter how far away from central Paris, just as long as there’s a subway station and a supermarket within walking distance. And a bakery. And a post office. Maybe a park, doesn’t have to be big.

I will take all the inevitable big and small culture shocks, bureaucratic hurdles, daily struggles in stride, because I will hopefully have enough hard-boiled common sense to know that Paris is not bending to my will. I will use very modern things like Facebook and the internet to my advantage to find expat groups, meet-ups, free walking tours for those first few months. I will read and YouTube a ton to find out more about questions that pop up along the way, because so many people have already produced very helpful content about How Things Are Done Here, also about the workplace.

In the meantime, my French will improve through being surrounded by it all the time when I’m not sleeping. I’ll mentally note down all the little phrases and turns of conversation, always remember to say Bonjour Madame and Bonjour Monsieur in the appropriate situations, pardon, excusez-moi. I’ll become so fluent, I’ll be able to be sarcastic in French, convey all my quirks and idiosyncrasies while still sounding almost like a local, get why things are funny and never commit a social faux pas.

Because French is the key, it is always the key, to that dream Paris life. Now, doesn’t this all sound ideal?

No, this post has not been brought on by watching Emily in Paris

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Thoughts

How to Adore Mondays

“It’s Monday again”, “Well, it’s Monday”, “How are you?” – “It’s Monday.” The latter is a response I get pretty often in Germany. In the meantime, I’ve become increasingly attached to Mondays, especially since I’ve finished school, then later on university and became increasingly independent in the years that followed. Here’s why.

Mondays are like small New Year’s Days that happen every single week. No matter what happened before, you can always decide this is your fresh start right now. Or you don’t decide anything, just go out into a new week, because you never know what nice things might happen. I’d say there’s enough people and media currently telling us about the bad things that might happen, so no harm in making mental room for the opposite.

Supermarkets are usually less crowded, bordering on peaceful, because the majority of your neighborhood is still stocked up on groceries from their Friday and Saturday shopping sessions. It’s nice to stop by after work and just get a few more things for some cooking at home. While wearing a mask has become more automatic these days, it still makes for more efficient planning and shopping, because browsing does make for a sweaty face. So there you have it, a nice, quick Monday supermarket trip.

Even if it feels like you messed up the day or something happened to make it go differently than you wished, there’s still enough left of the week to do better. Or to forget what happened. There’s still enough time to get a project done, come up with a good idea, hide under the blanket for a while, figure out birthday presents. One bad Monday doesn’t a whole week make.

Monday definitely gets a lot of attention. It also sometimes sounds like there is no other option but to be displeased with Mondays, sometimes just because it’s the day that directly follows a weekend, which was, of course, too short and went by too quickly.

The truth is that Mondays can be as different as any other day of the week, depending on what happened the day before, what happened that morning, what’s happening right now, what a person is going through or how long the to-do list is. The day of the week doesn’t even matter that much, because, surprise, surprise, weekends might just as easily turn into a busy, even challenging time with little or no rest, just as a weekday may suddenly be relaxed. Maybe if a Monday feels adores, it’ll adore you right back.

 

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Thoughts

Things Siberians Say to Other People When They Don’t Live in Siberia

(We don’t have to say it in Siberia, because, attention, everyone knows their stuff.)

Let’s be fair, it goes both ways. Things are said to us as soon as we say where we’re from, we say something in return, but we also transfer our Siberian ways to our conversations without needing prompts from others after we reveal our roots.

Actually, the cold bothered and bothers me personally quite a bit, but that’s another story.

Things we might say to you

“I love summer! What heat wave?”

“It’s so nice to sit on the grass! No ticks!”

“I don’t need to go on a ski holiday, I’ve seen enough snow in my time.”

“Let’s just sit together for a little while.”

“No, I’m not cold” / “No, it’s not that cold”/ “Wow, snow, finally!” (I don’t say this, but it’s a matter of preference)

“My bike is locked up, there’s ice on the road. Yes, it can be dangerous to cycle on ice.”

“Well, it’s a good idea to wear a hat when it’s below zero outside.”

“I’m quite used to the forest, there was a lot of it where I grew up.”

“Yes, I have worn a fur coat before. Real fur.”

“Do you know pelmeni? No, they aren’t completely the same as pierogi.”

To guests: “Would you like some house slippers or warm socks?”

My personal favorite: “Actually, I don’t know anything about vodka.”

“I could see my breath this morning, it’s cold.”

“Don’t you have gloves with you?”

Almost said many times: “Is hunching into your scarf really all that helpful in staying warm?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Thoughts

Tried and Tested Tips for Staying Sane

Because we all need them sometimes and the more information is out there, the better…

Watch reruns of The Big Bang Theory and regularly observe people tell/ ask/ shout at Sheldon that he’s acting or sounds like a crazy person. It’ll put things into perspective. Although, as we all know know, he’s not crazy, his mother had him tested. Plus he’s very keen on hygiene, which is, of course, an inspiration to us all in these times in particular, though I’d still like to think certain standards should always be in place and I don’t wish good things on the person I know left the bathroom at one of my jobs without washing her hands. Off topic, but important to note.

Sarcasm is a fine art worth mastering and it usually helps in any situation, because it takes your mind off the immediateness of it, though there’s a huge difference between being sarcastic and being mean (which is obviously a topic for a whole other blog post). Being sarcastic, when done skillfully, benefits from a connection to humor, which always makes anything better, even if you’re just saying things to yourself (that’s not crazy).

It’s true, breathing helps. So go for it! No paper bags necessary, though I guess that’s a matter of preference. If you’re not sure which technique to pursue, the internet will help.

This is all just material for future novel(s). It’s being given to us, free of charge. All we have to do is absorb, like a sponge. We’re artists in training, creative souls, travelers on the highway of the universe and surely the only reason we have to listen to/ look at/ are currently witnesses to this crap is because it might get some laughs written down.

If all else fails, just laugh at it all. But not in a way that will make people think you are crazy.

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