Wednesday, December 28, 2011

A Few More Photos of Christmas

What's not to love about decorating Christmas cookies? Very drippy frosting this year.
ES surprised me completely on Christmas. He and Caroline conspired to gift me with an iPad with countless gigabytes. I opened his package on Christmas Eve. Wow! I'd never gotten to the point of coveting an iPad, though two of my daughters say they couldn't live without them. Give me six months and I may be saying the same thing.
Christmas morning with Dad and Mary B. She's the one behind the camera on this one.
Mary B and I found time for a walk in Discovery Park late Christmas Day afternoon. An absolutely beautiful bright blue sun-shiny hour walk. Windy and chilly too.
More and more family photos on Boxing Day at Jeanne's. I so love my three daughters.

 And here's Caroline with all four grandchildren. A moment of relative quiet? Maybe.

Sunday, December 25, 2011

Happenings: Christmas 2011

Christmas in Seattle is an overbusy haze of family comings-and-goings, each moment filled with a medley of emotions. There is the daily round of visits to domiciles of daughters, dad and sister. Add in Christmas errands and special events and there is rarely down time to contemplate, to blog or to wander off for a walk in Discovery Park.  I could offer a simple calendar of events for the last eight days, but that would give little sense of what exactly has made many of these events so special. 
Instead, I'm making a list of things that moved me, that I would not have missed experiencing. And remember, I still have four full days before I fly back home to Houston. So this list will no doubt have a supplement. In no particular order of 'specialness', here are moments to savor.

1. It's about Charlie Bean. He is so grown up. What a joy to be greeted by Charlie Bean with a hug and a big smile when I arrived at his house on my first afternoon in Seattle. Charlie is in second grade now. He's grown taller since the beginning of the school year and he stands so, so straight. And he sure can carry on a conversation. I love him.
Charlie  is currently immersed in Skylander with its magic portal. When characters are placed on the lit portal, they - and Charlie - enter a magic world. It's another of those games with ever more characters to purchase, but it was fun to hear both Charlie and his mom talk about how Skylander is 'different.' 
Here's a paragraph written especially for parents from the Skylander website:
"In Skylanders Spyro’s Adventure, characters are ‘brought to life’ in a boldly innovative adventure game where children can collect real-world toys and teleport them directly into the game using a mystical Portal of Power™. 
"Propelled by a story-driven adventure, penned by Academy Award-nominated Toy Story feature film writers, Joel Cohen and Alec Sokolow, children take on the role of a powerful Portal Master, who can control over 30 different characters, including the beloved fire-breathing dragon Spyro.
"Together with their Skylanders, players will embark on a fantastical journey into an amazing world, where they will explore mysterious, mythical lands, battle menacing outlandish creatures, collect gold and treasures, and solve interesting puzzles while on a quest to save their world from Kaos, an evil Portal Master."
This Friday, I'll take Charlie Bean, he who is my very first grandchild, on a field trip. He hasn't yet decided which zoo we will visit. Last December, we spent a day at the Tacoma Zoo. Will we return there or will we visit another?

2. My almost 95 year-old dad read every word of the memoir piece I wrote for "Coping With Transition: Men, Money, Motherhood and Magic." Between its covers, that recently published book holds work by 15 TTN (The Transition Network) Houston members, each writing about their lives, loves and losses. Dad chuckled as he read the description of the wrenching take-over of my studio, albeit a temporary take-over. When he finished, he said, "Mary Margaret, you're a good writer."
I said, "Pretty frank, isn't it, Dad?"
He looked straight at me and answered, "Why not?"
I am happy that my almost 95 year-old dad had the chance to read my first published writing and that he pronounced it 'good writing.'

3. More on books and reading. When my brother, sister and I were kids, Mom gave us each a book, or books, at Christmas. We've continued the tradition. I've always given books to each of my three daughters for Christmas. And they are now giving me books, as is my sister Kate.  I have a plethora of new books to read: from Kate, Diane Keaton's "Then, Again" and "Reading Jackie" from Jeanne. From Caroline Jeremy Rivkin's "Global Consciousness in a World in Crisis."  I've read abut this book and am glad to have it, even though it's a pretty hefty tome. Needs to be read.
I dropped in at the independent Magnolia Bookstore on the day before Christmas to buy several more book presents. Everyone near and dear to me got at least one book for Christmas. Tradition lives.

4. I love Magnolia at night because of its stillness. This 'village' on the peninsula just northwest of downtown is where my sister lives and where my parents settled when they reached their 80s. And it is filled with stillness and quiet. At night there is no white noise, no distant traffic, no compressors or air conditioners. When I return from a day of house-to-house visiting or leave my sister's house after a late evening visit, I can hear silence. Real silence, stillness. I can feel my whole body go limp as it/I take a deep breath of the silence. A rare experience in 2011.

5. This year I bought the grandchildren boxed sets of Thornton Burgess books. I own a 1914 copy of "The Adventures of Reddy Fox" that my dad received as a Chirstmas gift in 1926. Dad's Burgess books were passed down to my brother, sister and me in the 1950s and I remember reading them to my girls and the Camfield kids in the mid-1970s. Now I'm reading them to my grandchildren.  Kelan and I are in the middle of "The Adventres of Peter Rabbit". Last night his dad said, "Kelan, why don't you read Mameau a chapter."  And so he did, and so quickly I could barely keep up with the words. What a good reader. I am taking Kelan to Dad's so he read him a chapter or two. Dad will be amazed.
6. Our family still celebrates Christmas Eve with two Danish holiday dishes from the girl's dad's side of the extended family.  We begin each Christmas Eve meal with risengrød, a rice porridge sweetened with brown sugar and cream. I have made and/or eaten risengrød every Christmas Eve since 1963. The cook hides an almond in some one's serving and whomever receives the almond also receives a box of chocolate to be immediately shared with everyone at the table. The meal ends with aebleskivers, round ball pancakes covered with maple syrup or a berry jam and confectionery sugar. Caroline made really good gluten-gre aebleskivers this year.

7. Mary B and I drove Dad to Seattle First Baptist Church on Christmas morning and found the church was well filled. This church is so liberal that they were picketed by mid-western Baptists a decade ago for their stands on social issues. The Christmas morning prayer included a plea for God's blessing for those who were alienated from their families because of sexual orientation and another plea that the media would no longer distort the message of Occupy Seattle. You have to love this congregation.
Dad is so deaf, even with hearing aids, that he never hears the sermon or the prayers, but he enjoys the organ and the choir and the several folks who always greet his arrival.  Mary B and I were tearful as we three stood together in the pew, both of us listening to Dad's tenor voice as we sang the final hymn "Go Tell It On the Mountain." This song was a part of Mom's choir repertoire and we have her choirs from the 1960s on tapes. We cry when we listen to the tapes too, especially when we hear Dad's tenor voice. Mom used to say 'Dean colors the whole tenor section.'   After the benediction, the organist moved to the piano and played quite a jazzy version of "Go Tell It On the Mountain", a la Virginia Avery. We agree with Dad. Church on Christmas morning is a good thing.

There are more memorable happenings, but it's taken me two days to assemble a list of seven. I will write more when I find another chunk of quiet time. And when I am with wi-fi. No wi-fi of late at Arapahoe.
Lauren and I are now off for manicures and pedicures - her special time with Mameau this Christmas. Look at these two cousins on Bonnie Boxing Day - Lulu Bell and Lauren. 

A Good Review

Our editor, Susan Briggs Wright, sent us a review of our memoir collection this morning. How nice  that Barbara Tayor Sissel's review arrived on Christmas Day.  Our book, Coping With Transition: Men, Money, Motherhood and Magic, was published last September by Texas Review Press and now you can buy a copy on Amazon or Barnes & Noble. We'll read at Brazos Books in early spring.  Click here to read Sissel's  review.

Wednesday, December 21, 2011

PRINCE in Tacoma

My sister Kate says it all in the blog post that she wrote late last night after we returned from the PRINCE concert at the Tacoma Dome. There is little more that I can add, except that I still love Purple Rain and that song always reminds me of a 1980s trip through Arches National Park in Utah. A friend and I drove into that park with Purple Rain at top volume in my light blue Cadillac sedan. Arches was the perfect place to hear that tape of Purple Rain when it was brand new.
"Remember the 80s?" PRINCE asked the audience before he swept into Purple Rain. Really. What was he thinking? At least half of the folks in the Dome were babies or not even born yet.

I'm glad Kate picked me up at the airport and that we threw my suitcase into the back of her car and drove straight to Tacoma. Wouldn't have missed that concert. Yet, by heaven, the sound was deafening and we both wore the ear plugs she brought along. I always wonder if there is a point where sheer thundering volume totally masks artistry and finesse or the lack thereof. Are volume and heavy heart stopping bass both qualities that draw in the audience? Are they simply expected as an integral part of the spectacle?
And guess what? The audience knew all the words to every song. They stood infront of their seats and waved and danced and sang and shrieked. They love PRINCE.
Right in the middle of the concert, Kate took a photo for her Facebook page and my daughter Jeanne commented at once, "How is it that my mom is at the PRINCE concert tonight and I am not?"
I looked out over the audience again and could see that PRINCE and Purple Rain have staying power. Jeanne was a kid at summer camp when I made that road trip to Arches. But somewhere along the way, she and that young crowd in the Tacoma Dome know that PRINCE sure can sing that song of his and we all love it and him.
Just not the earthshaking volume and bass.

Friday, December 16, 2011

And Where Did the Week Go?

Day after day after day is filled with errands and household tasks, errands and doctor's appointments and then, ever more errands.  All of this stuff is juxtaposed with visits with friends, time with ES and plenty of on-going emails and other communications.  There is never an end to errands or bill paying or reading the daily NY Times. I am canceling my subscription to the NY Times until mid to late January. I cannot keep up with it.
ES asked me last evening what I was going to do with that foot high pile of newspapers by the kitchen table. I told him I planned to read and sort through them before I fell asleep. So, my side of the bed was stacked with newsprint and I plowed through one section after another while he continued his long read of 'Absolute Monarchs, A History of the Papacy' by John Julius Norwich. It seems to me that he has been reading this book forever and has found it very intriguing. Sonny Garza is also reading this book. I know because at the last Gulfgate TIRZ board meeting, we spoke about it. How this book came up in conversation, I do not remember.  Perhaps after the first of the year, I need to get Sonny and ES together to discuss this tome?

Back to errands. Every couple of days, I make lists and find that I scratch through many of the items, so I do indeed get a sense of 'moving the meter' as Cindy K. used to say. But in the end, what is really accomplished? Do I get into my studio ever?  That new work keeps swirling in my head, unattended. This week, my studio became an item on my list:  clear and straighten after Sunday's successful crochet trunk show. Done. Last Sunday's trunk show at Mel's house was great. Twelve sales. I love to see what women choose. Takes me back to those selling days at Saks and Bloomingdale's. I digress a bit. Thank you, Mel.
Other items on my errand list: get myself to Ritz Camera in Rice Village and have photos made for some collages in my head that involve images of last year's trip to Terlingua.
Also want photos of me shopping at Buc-ee's that I can use as gift tags for a particular Christmas gift I bought for family members at this emporium of the highways.  Remember that on the way home from Dallas, we stopped at Buc-ee's in Madisonville for gas, a bottle of water and a pee. I was enthralled with Buc-ee's merchandising. They do it so well. They so know their customers. In Madisonville, I found a particular display of goods that appealed even to me, but only after we were well on our way again, did I think of family members who might love what was in that display.
So, this past Wednesday morning, I channeled my Grandmother Shirley May Keyes Thompson and with ES, got up early and left for a Buc-ee's closer to Houston than Madisonville. That would be just east of Wharton, TX.  There I would purchase Christmas presents for an ever expanding list. 

ES and I were efficient. We left at 8:00 a.m. and were back in Houston by 11:00 a.m. with goods in tow. Gramma T, sometimes it's a good thing to channel you as in "You an idea in your head, well, just get in the car and take off and go." I could say more about this habit of my paternal grandmother, but it's really the stuff of another post.
There were far more errands this week than the road trip to Buc-ee's.  Made a visit to G&M shoes, where my boots were not yet ready. I drove on to Texas Art Supply to buy mats for some of ES's small watercolors that I will take as gifts to Seattle. Picked up at prescription at CVS. Took two DVDs of photos to the director of the new Houston Permitting Center and while I was there, I checked to see that my photo ID works to get into restricted areas.  It does work, so after the holidays I can take more folks on tours to look at the art.
At Whole Foods, I picked up more bottles of kombucha and a head of organic cabbage.  I seem to be consuming generous quantities of both. Went to the bank to inquire about the need to open a business account.  The answer was no. My current checking accounts are working just fine.
These errands are interspersed with tasks at home: several loads of towels and sheets and clothes were washed and dried, meals were prepared and eaten, the dishwasher was filled and emptied three times, mail was sorted, the bed was made most of the time.  What else do I do in this house? I don't sweep the floors. Not good, but I don't.

Attended a Greater East End District board meeting on Thursday afternoon that was followed by their annual holiday celebration for the board and guests. Both Senator Gallegos and State Representative Carol Alvarado made an appearance. Very happy to see them at the district offices.

Also went to the UT dermotology clinic one more time. Got a hair cut with Kat. Twice called the opthomologist at Eyes Are Precious to see if she found a pair of Jean Paul Gaultier frames I left with her two years ago. She remembers them and I hope she find them. If I looked at my lists, I'd write more. Such was the week.
Today is Saturday and again, I set out on errands - punctuated by a very special visit to see Elizabeth's new baby boy. Yes, he's here and he's beautiful.
But first: an allergy shot at McGovern Clinic in Bellaire (this is a weekly errand). Picked up those boots from G& M Shoe Repair. Picked up photos from Ritz Camera in Rice Village. Bought olive oil at the Fiesta on Dunlavy, which by the way is directly across the street from the very new and fancy Central Market. I haven't darkened their door yet.
And then to Elizabeth's to see new baby boy Matthew or perhaps, Mettao. That visit will have its own post on this blog. Elizabeth and my daughter Mary B were babies together. Sally and I were nursing moms together. The Poe Cooperative Nursery School was born while we were both nursing. 
What an experience to hold this newborn and hear about his birth and remember when. I'll write more soon about this new baby in our extended family.

On to artists' studios on Hardy Street where I met neighbors. Catarina Williams was showing vibrant city skyline paintings again, many interspersed with animal cutouts. I love her turreted colorful castle-like buildings. Bianca Diaz was exhibiting some of her color photographs and there was Mary Lu de la Fuentes, proud grandmother.

While at the studios on Hardy Street, I found more work by Lowbrow Pilgrim, all of it bizarre. I bid on a terrific and weird piece of his at this year's Lawndale Day of the Dead exhibition, but when bidding topped $300 I stopped.  I love the way his pieces have moving parts and are plugged into the wall, cord trailing. Someday I may own one?

I am home now and just finished another cabbage salad with capers and Paul Newman's Caesar salad dressing. There is one more task ahead of me before I can even look in the direction of the studio. I must update my resume for a potential art consulting job. And that will take care of today's daylight hours.
This evening ES and I will have supper with Beth Collins Wray and then head to the Art Car Museum'sSeventh Annual Open Call Exhibtion.
Maybe tomorrow I'll give myself a few hours in the studio (really? after I update my resume?) and then pack my bag for Monday's trip to Seattle.

Thursday, December 08, 2011

Lunch at One Shell Plaza

So many years have passed since I moved to Houston, TX.  I've made a good life here, raised three daughters, developed professional careers, work as an artist and consultant, enjoy a wonderful network of friends and colleagues. Houston is my home. So where am I going with this?
Well, today, I was invited to lunch at the Plaza Club on the 49th floor of One Shell Plaza and the place itself provoked intense memories. So did the conversations of the women with whom I lunched.
In 1967, my former husband and I moved to Houston from New York City by way of Chicago, he to work for Gerald Hines Interests and seek his fortune.  His first day on the job, there was a ground breaking for One Shell Plaza. The building is a part of our history together.
I was 25 years old. In six months, I will be 70 years old. So that means that One Shell Plaza is fifty years old. Can that be?  Maybe. I've just subtracted 1967 from 2012 and I get 45 years, not 50. Yet I know I was 25 in 1967 and I will be 70 in 2012.  I am not good with numbers. I have friends who can attest to that. Will that friend who is especially good with numbers comment and let me know what's going on here?
Onward with my story. One Shell Plaza is entirely clad in Italian travertine; its lobbies and even its elevator cabs are coated with travertine. I remember travertine was big back then.  My former husband brought a sample slab home that we used for years as a table top on our deck. At some point it broke in two and all I have is the smaller piece which I've always thought could well be used as a platter for a buffet table. At least, I've saved it to use as a platter, always thinking it would do nicely when serving smoked salmon or sliced beef tenderloins. Again, I digress.
There were four of us at lunch and as we settled into conversation, I wondered at the serendipity of our being together. How do you choose people to share lunch in a particular setting? Who knows? Three of us are part of The Transition Network local chapter, the fourth woman I met just today.
We sat at our table, high over downtown, looking west toward the Galleria and beyond.  My eyes wandered beyond our table, surveying the Plaza Club.  I began to think about my marriage and I thought about the way big buildings come to be. I pondered my past as I lunched in that serene, well carpeted, quiet place with fine food, unobtrusive service and tables with stiff white linens. 
And as we ate smoked solmon, stuffed chicken breasts, steamed vegtables and salad, the conversation veered toward first marriages. All of us had them. Two at the table are happily remarried.
What surprised me is that as we spoke about these first husbands, we seemed to be telling the same story. How it was having kids with these men, how it was to take verbal abuse, how it was to stay in these marriages because it was the only marriage we knew and we could indeed try harder.
How common is it for four women to share lunch together and suddenly discover that we had very similar first marriages? For me, it was especially poignant, because I was conversing at the Plaza Club at One Shell Plaza.  The place itself brought memories and feelings I'd not had for a long time.

Tuesday, December 06, 2011

FreeForm Crochet Trunk Show

It's been several years since I've had a friend host a trunk show for all that freeform crochet neck wear I compulsively, obsessively made throughout George Bush's second term as president of these United States. I was in such a funk that crocheting became my solace. I went nuts without a hook in my hand.
This Sunday seemed a good time to show and sell more of this quite lovely work. I've spent the evening gathering the inventory and putting tiny price tags on each neck riff and capelet. I love this stuff and it's been fun to unpack it all and try each piece on again, one by one.  I gave a lot of little 'ohs and ahs' as I went through the boxes. Remember this one? Remember that?
So, if you read this and would like to know where Sunday's trunk show will be, leave a comment at the bottom of the post and I'll forward you the address by return email. It'll be great.

Sunday, December 04, 2011


Who knew? ES and I stopped for gas near Madisonville, TX on our way back to Houston this afternoon and I went into BUC-EE'S for a bottle of water. And I fell in love with the place. Right. Who knew? That this could happen? To me?
On my way in, I remembered my first and only other visit to a BUC-EE'S. A year or two ago, my friend Irina and I wandered into one on the way back from San Antonio. I remember two things about our stop. I bought a box of mixed fudge for us - or, really for me - to savor for the rest of our car trip. I also walked straight into the men's restroom, instead of turning left into the women's rest room. Saw the urinals and opps, backed up and out.
That's my memory of BUC-EE'S. But today, BUC-EE'S is on my hot-list. What? Yup, it's the truth. And the reason that I love BUC-EE'S is that they are such good merchandiser's. They absolutely know what they are doing. Absolutely every item in that store is planned and placed to sell quickly and easily. Everything is packaged just so, much of it sports their logo.
After looking at the multitudes of what looked like really freshly made sandwiches, I nearly walked out with two. Just because. What's going on here? There was a counter-like surface covered with monitors in front of several spacious prepared food counters. Just like checking in for a flight. Point to an object on the monitor and it's prepared especially for you. You just have to remember your number. They'll announce it throughout the store over a loudspeaker.
I saw lots of employees, all busy, all engaged, all in red tee shirts with logos. Lots of young high-school age employees in those red tee-shirts - all looking happy to have a job, but maybe making minimum wage and working without benefits? That may be unfair. I do not know what their wages or hours are.
I went into the women's restroom, veering away from the men's room this time. Big, very clean, no wet floors, spacious stalls. Who could not be impressed and happy to be there? Goodbye to Exxon and Shell and Valero's often messy, untended restrooms. And the artwork displayed just outside the restrooms is so Texas. Cowboys and an oil field. Don't you know they sell lots of those framed pictures for dens all over this state?
I wandered down the aisles, just taking it all in. Coca-Cola served up - just like an old-fashioned ice-house would. My favorite cherry sours. Back in the day, I'd have bought a couple of packages right on the spot and eaten the first package in one sitting.This afternoon, my thought was, "They're totally high fructose corn syrup and artificial flavoring and very bad red dye." I did NOT buy even one package. But, I did buy a piece of orange vanilla fudge just because I couldn't help myself. Sugar or corn syrup? Who knows?I could have purchased a pair of boxer shorts or a baseball cap just covered with BUC-EE'S logo. ES says many of his students at Lone Star College wear BUC-EE'S tee shirts. How did I not know about this Texas phenomenon? The Houston Chronicle's Alison Cook asked herself the same question in 2009 - follow this link and read all the answers and advice she received from true believers. I just may be a true believer at this moment because they merchandise their store SO WELL. It's so obvious. They know their market.
Finally, I gathered my thoughts. Remembered that I'd come in for a plain bottle of water. Yet even when I concentrated on water, I was again impressed with BUC-EE'S merchandising. Want a beverage? Look in the center of the store right behind the check-out counters. See 20-30 linear feet filled with choices of sparkling drinks. Another 10-20 feet lined with assorted coffee machines.
And that plain bottle of water? Well, that was way, way in the right hand back corner of BUC-EE'S. Available, of course, but how many shoppers are going to get past that bank of super size beverage dispensers for a plain bottle of water?
I could have done Christmas shopping. I realized after I left the store that I'd seen perfect gifts for Caroline and Queta. There is no BUC-EE'S mail order catalogue. I've already checked on-line. Now, I'll have to drive to Pearland - the nearest BUC-EE'S from Houston, to get those two gifts.
In a daze, I left the store and began to walk toward the spot where I'd left ES refilling the gas tank. A lady tapped me on the arm and said gently, "I think someone is trying to get your attention. Are you with him?"
And there was ES, reparked near the main door, patiently waiting. "What were you doing in there?"
"Oh, I wish you'd seen. Every bit of it," I said to ES. "BUC-EE'S is an absolutely terrific merchandiser. It's just perfect."

Saturday, December 03, 2011

Jean Paul Gaultier in Dallas

Bustiers with intricate stitching, ribbons and laces. A gallery back lit with blue with mannequins that spoke and moved their eyes and wore fairy tale metaphorical garments. A camouflage ballgown made with yards and yards of ruffed tulle.
I was mesmerized by the Jean Paul Gaultier installation at the Dallas Art Museum. Last summer, I missed the Alexander McQueen exhibition in New York at the Met. I didn't intend to miss Jean Paul Gaultier in Dallas. So, on Friday morning, ES and I spent several hours immersed in Gaultier's world. No photos allowed and I really struggled with that, eventually began to take notes of what I was seeing. Found photos on-line, but they don't really evoke my experience.Five themed galleries, the first being filled with a circle of mannequins with eyes that suddenly moved and then lips that spoke incomprehensible words, but evocative of times past, memories revisited. It took me minutes before I looked overhead and saw the sleep projects that focused on each faced, giving it recorded expressions and words.A series of gowns in that first gallery, was each a variation of intricate applique of photo images and milagros on lace and crochet figure hugging gowns. Then a group of sailor blue and white striped knit gowns that appeared simply at the neck and gradually become covered with ever widening rows of tiny feathers of white and blue that kept the sailor stripes moving downward slowing transforming a sailor tee into a ballgown.
There were mermaids with shell breastplates and lame fins. I struggled to remember the details and they faded as quickly as morning dreams.A second gallery was titled Boudoir. The central core of the room was a room sized cube covered with padded, quilted pancake make-up pink fabric. Each side of the cube had a window that featured intricately crafted bustiers, some of which were designed for and worn by Madonna. Huge photographs of Madonna lined two walls and quite frankly, these photos, as well as all the photo images and video throughout the exhibition, were far better, or more enticing, than all of Helmut Newtons' photographs I saw recently at the Museum of Fine Arts, Houston.
There was one poignant tableau in the Boudoir gallery. I proper lady, again speaking and looking at the viewer, wore a garment made entirely of rosette ribbons sewed together to make open squares. She carried a matching parasol of open squared ribbons. Nearby was an end table that held a 1950s television with suggestion programing from that era. Was she was 'left behind', caught in a time warp, betrayed, jilted or was this tableau merely a stab at nostalgiaNear her on the wall was a tiny dog-eared teddy bear with two Madonna-like quilted breasts sewn on its faded chest. Did the teddy bear belong to the lady wearing ribbons with rosettes? The tableau was haunting. It worked.
I'll write more. There is no book in print that details the installation in Dallas. The catalogue is more about the life and times of Jean Paul Gaultier than what we saw in the galleries. Here is a You Tube commentary on the Dallas installation. And another clip. And still another. And here's a bit of the exhibition from You Tube as it played in Montreal. None of the clips quite capture what I experienced, but they do give a sense of the installation. I have the sense that all the short videos were made clandestinely as I guess I could have done. Opps, perhaps a second trip to Dallas?
Gaultier made body suits that showed muscles and sinews and blood vessels. Lots of laced up leggings with this body suit. Another model carried a small purse that was a sequined red heart.
Surely this Indian chief is a Gautier bride? ES said she'd be overwhelming to watch walk down the aisle toward her groom. She was a goddess.This ball gown was whit tulle and its lining was a 360 degree series of legs in black net stockings. Knock-out.There were more details and garments that I loved. Will find photos of them. Off to bed. I can see the Dallas skyline from our hotel room. We are staying at The Belmont and that deserves its very own blog post. Love it.