I recently saw a photo from the New York Sun Facebook Page that intrigued me. It was a model, presumably from the 1970s. At first I thought she might be Jerry Hall, the former wife of Mick Jagger, but it didn’t pan out. She may have been a professional model, or maybe not. She may have been unclothed, or not, but I remember those tight strapless tops that girls and women would wear back then. Nonetheless, I cropped the picture to be more family friendly, so let’s think positive. I got to thinking about the photo the day after I saw it in my FB feed for a second day, then I started with thoughts of identification. It’s impossible of course. If she were a song it would have been called an ‘earworm,’ the obsessive compulsive version of ‘stuck song syndrome,’ which is now being reduced with the AHA Music Chrome plug-in on the browser, which has mostly reduced my earworm concerns. I’m not sure of the phobia of not knowing a person in a photograph, perhaps ‘eyeworm,’ who knows, but in studying the photo, my mind suddenly jumped alive with seeing a person and had conclusions suddenly thrust upon me.
I most certainly hope that the young lady (let’s call her Laura, the name of a 5th grade crush of mine, who passed on at 45) is now a happy grandmother enjoying retirement somewhere, and has led a mostly worry-free life. It’s hard to believe that the tail end of baby boomers of which Laura was one, are just about ready to enter their retirement years, and being a Gen-Xer myself, and having been retired for years, I missed out on a whole other life I could have been living. But let’s look at Laura’s life. In the picture she shows the bare bones facade of herself, with no additional amenities, and honestly, most men would swipe to the next pic, not giving it a second thought. Each looking for perfection that will never present itself. Laura is a young lady, perhaps 21, or 23; in her late 60s today, and if you will find her beauty to be extraordinary. Perfect. You wouldn’t be wrong. Now let me explain.
Of course, most will say, “She’s not even wearing make-up,” or she has spots, too many freckles, or her hair is not done up. Others may be more critical in how her face, eyes, eyebrows, lips, and even shoulders are not symmetrical. Still others may see unsightly attached earlobes, skin moles, or skin that may not be as moist and supple as it should be. Even her nostrils and philtrum look a bit off.
All of the criticisms have valid points, no doubt, but by my assessment of Laura … I see … well … ‘perfection;’ which lies in her multiple imperfections; or rather the combination of her imperfections that make her perfect. The bravery Laura displayed in allowing the photo to be taken is one thing, she obviously looked in the mirror her entire life, and knew what fashion magazine editors like Anna Wintour would be seeing in pushing models publication. Symmetry. Michaela Bercu for Wintour was as close to perfection back in 1988 as you could come, which is why photo editors have got out their magnifying loupes in scanning for everything the opposite that Laura displayed. And we haven’t even got to her psyche.
The 1970s for models were intense, as it is up to modern times. The easy availability of drugs, alcohol, parties, and the formula for success; to stay forever thin, did take their toll on the subjects. And it gets even worse, when mothers allowed their pre-teens daughters like Brooke Shields or Eva Ionseco, to get involved with their placement in adult domains that should never have been broached. All of it deals with pressure for success, and money; and the willingness to part with your dignity for the pursuit of it. The negative influences don’t stop there. Just to get somewhere, the sausage making portion to get the success of the process, required the sick attention paid to Harvey Weinstein types at all levels. And just to get to that point, some, not all, may have had to deal with abuse by family, friends, or other influences that were supposed to be supporters instead of predators.
I for sure hope that none of that happened to Laura, but I know she’s experienced pain in seeing the gash on her forehead, and some shading under her left eye that could have been another incident. And I pray that her husband treated her with true love and respect.
Incredibly, I’ve met Laura’s face before, well, not the exact face, but a representation of the imperfections that forced attention to the perfection. And in retrospect it pained me to lose it by the most unfortunate of situations. Just recently I was listening to one of those YouTube stories that I take in to relax after finishing a piece of writing. And the ones about lost loves or found children resonate with me, because I failed to launch in that respect, although something promising was taking hold just before I presented with my illness. It was one of the biggest ‘what ifs’ of my life. And with divorce so prevalent, it irks me to no end why couples don’t try harder in their relationships, especially with the complaints of the dating scene that are being made.
With my overnight writing sessions at times, especially the weeks with dual all-nighters, I have a habit of waking at precisely 3:45-6 am on the weekend. With an iPad hovering above my bed, I turn on anything that interests me. The story I was listening to this weekend in trying to fall asleep again involved a father’s intentions, which in most stories can go either way, good, bad, and of course no involvement at all. Undoubtedly we all have father’s, and whatever part they play in our lives, most of us don’t put two and two together, and if we do, it’s later in life. Now I understand why my father sent me prophylactics while I was overseas. I took the gesture as encouragement, and I didn’t disappoint, to my shame. It’s reflective of how I greet ladies today with my natural aristocratic flirting and the kissing and holding of their hands after shaking for much much longer than is generally appropriate.
Another part of my case I put together is my half-sister (hence my fathers postage to me in Europe), 18 months older than me, a secret held until I was 31, not knowing I had been an uncle since I was 17. It all plays its part in how my life has played out, and if my father wouldn’t have been so damn secretive and told me his story when I was much younger, I would have tried harder at relationships over meaningless avenues with dead ends. And after meeting my new sibling, I started to really try with a Galleria lunch partner in my corporate building at The Lakes of Post Oak. She was a creature of habit too, leaving the lobby at the same time I did, and one day soon after I asked if I could walk with her. And in those lunches, the appreciation for the imperfections grew on me. She was from a different company, and I was just about ready to ask her out after Memorial Day for real with contact info and everything, then my cancer hit the Friday before. Game over. And when I got back to the office in November, she had moved on; plus with a common name, finding her to explain the absence was virtually impossible.
There is a reason for every one of our actions. And if my story helps one person correct from a life of predestined solitude, then perhaps my journey was worth it. Seeing Laura’s picture on the internet did spark those thousand words. The real Laura from my life, did go on to travel, marry, and have children before she was killed in a tragic auto accident, north of here, near Buffalo.
When we ‘look’ at someone, do we really ‘see’ them? Those two words are so different, and when many relationships are based on looking, when it comes down to getting to the nuts and bolts of living, you finally see what is really going on, and for many it’s simply too late.
So is an eyeworm worth a thousand words? Definitely. And if knows the name of Laura (the model), please let me know.
Ruben can be reached at: ruben@montgomerycountynews.net