Watching Gentlemen Prefer Blonde's by Howard Hawks (1953)

Glamour, satire, choreographed dance routines and a budget of 2.3 million dollars (double the average back in the 50's). My simple 2025 requests!

Marino just told me the energy I woke him up with on Sunday morning was like going to Disney Land. Think he’s referring to the pancakes I made at 6am in the morning. This woman is just one of the many characters that live within the complex world of Elise. Each day all of my many selves hold a conference room inside the brain and take a vote, who should we send out today people? Demure Elise or Disney Land Elise?

Neither of which were present yesterday may I add, as I wrote to you from alongside the ocean, parked up at Faria beach, tapping away on my laptop, looking like a right yuppie, as Marino would say. So here I am writing to the sounds of waves breaking. Think I’ve hacked the system. Writing while he surfs. Accepting the fact that I only enjoy surfing when the conditions are perfect has taken me 9 years of being in a relationship, and if I’m honest, a lifetime of dating surfers, where part of my allure was being the girl who wins them over even more because she’ll surf with you.

This character is extremely laid back. She’s wearing a baseball cap, wool jumper and corduroy pants, very Californian. Very out of place with her laptop. Topless men scurry by carrying large toys called surfboards, a manic sort of glee in their eyes as they enter the ocean. She’s at one with the scene and not trying to compete. Reminds me of this moment from Gentlemen Prefer Blondes, featuring the actress Jane Russell, who finds herself surrounded by the male Olympic swim team, before suddenly becoming the centre piece of a choreographed dance routine. Living the dream…

I find myself singing “Honey, you’ll hurt yourself!” as I wave to my husband heading out to hunt waves, only wishing I”m wearing something far more glamorous…

The song ends with her character sitting next to the pool as men vault over, before she’s knocked in as well. Apparently it was a wonderful accident, one they decided to keep in the shot. The way she sings “I’m apathethic, and non-athletic” is just, chef’s kiss. Life was so much simpler when we weren’t trying to compete with men all the time, don’t you think? Has feminism gone too far is something I remember laughing about with Sophia one day last summer. Is that unhinged of us to say? Is this a safe space?