Those who know me are aware of my love for the classic Hollywood, the movie stars that wandered around the place during the 40s and 50s. Often I find myself thinking of who would I invite to come over for a special dinner. Oh, to be able to share table with wonderful talented and inspiring people such as Audrey Hepburn, Grace Kelly, Cary Grant, Clark Gable, Lauren Bacall and Humphrey Bogart, Marilyn Monroe, James Stewart, Gregory Peck, Alfred Hitchcock, Shirley MacLaine, Katharine Hepburn and Jack Lemmon!
But, even better, imagine waking up one day to find out you are one of those wonderful stars? A luxurious car would wait for you at the door of your fabulous house in Beverly Hills and a driver named Alfredo, Roberto or Anselmo would drive you to a fantastic party in which THESE PEOPLE would welcome you with the hugest of the smiles and the warmest of the hugs.
I guess I better stop dreaming.
Anyway, so my father recorded a special TV program about two of my very favorites: Grace Kelly and Audrey Hepburn. He knows how much I adore these two, so he is always trying to find new stuff for me to see.
First, I watched the bit about Grace. Poor lovely lonely Grace. Didn’t anyone love her enough? Did she marry the Prince of Monaco out of fear of ending alone and unloved? Ironic, isn’t it? thousands of people adored her beautiful little face, watched her every move with admiration and fell hard for her classy ways. But there was something in her smile that made people wonder if she was really happy, after all.
But the tremendous bit came with the Audrey section. Please, picture me, curled up in a ball on the sofa, covered by a blanket while my dad snored right behind me (he has never been a big fan of this love of mine -he prefers western and Humphrey Bogart). So, the screen showed, as this kind of programs do, pictures and videos of Audrey from the days of Roman Holiday to the last days of her life, including those UNICEF trips she realized, trying to help the kids who most needed it. There she was, old, fighting a cancer, with a wrinkled face. Yet she still glowed, she still had that ‘something’ that everyone is looking for or wants to have so desperately.
And just like that, while I watched the photos of this wonderful woman, I started crying. I thought to myself ‘Why am I crying? what am I, an idiot?’. I couldn’t help it, I promise you! the voiceover said something like ‘she remains an inspiration for all the women in the world who said -hey, I can be like that! or I want to be like her’.
After all, we are just poor souls looking for a mirror in which we can reflect ourselves, right? we want to model ourselves after someone, always with our personal touch.
And, in my opinion, we women are lucky to have such role models to look after. I aspire to be Audrey Hepburn. I aspire to be Grace Kelly. And I’ll be glad if my (non-existent for now) daughter aspires to be like them.
Guess we can all be a little nostalgic every once in a while, right?