Tuesday, December 07, 2004

My Catherine

Today or tonight I'm going to introduce you to the love of my life. Her name is Catherine. If you read the novel that's on the right hand side of my blog, you'll find her referred to as Helene. We go way back. I have known her for over three quarters of my life. But we are still not together. It's a very complicated situation. But if you are patient I will explain over the next few weeks.
My Catherine isn't the most beautiful girl on the planet. I say that objectively. But to me she is irresistable. She has a beauty that is more than skin deep. It goes way down. Don't get me wrong she isn't ugly either. In fact she's rather cute. She's five foot six, very slim, short brown hair, (highlighted at the moment with deep red). What I mean is she isn't the classic cat walk model type. When she walks she glides like she's been to finishing school. She doesn't stomp around. She doesn't slouch. She holds her head up even though she's very poor. But with her poverty she has dignity. That's important to me. She has no money but she scrapes by. But she is not common. She is not a chav. She is a Princess in poor clothes. her parents were very poor. They were very common, but she has risen above that.
One day we were at her house and she showed me her wardrode for the first time. She said "don't hate me but I love to buy new clothes, I have all these." and she swung open the door. She had almost nothing. On the hangers she had about 15 different dresses. I couldn't believe that was all she had. My ex-wife had four wardrobes full of clothes and more piles four foot high in the bedroom. I just laughed. She said "Don't laugh at me, these are my clothes I love them, is it too much?"
I just had to hug her and kiss her. Of course it wasn't too much. They weren't designer clothes, but they were clothes I had grown to love. They were her clothes. I recognised each dress and and where we were when wore it.
She had more clothes than me. But she was so apologetic that she had squandered so much on clothes. It's a different world. I took it for granted that my wife would buy clothes. Catherine would think twice then three times, and then when she was sure she would buy them, but only when she knew she had enough money. And then only when she was sure it suited her and she was happy with it. I know girls who will buy something just to experiment. IN fact most of the English girls I know do that. They will buy something try it out, and it will then fester in the back of the wardrobe until time ends. Every single item Catherine had, was worn.

When I first met her she wore a brown woollen dress and a Hermes scarf. It was quite plain. I don't know but the French have a way with clothes. You see the girls in Paris wearing the obligatory Navy blue, boring sweater and dress,. But boy, do they have style? They wear it with applombe. It must be unique to the French. Girls in this country couldn't carry it off. I have never worked out why. It's almost like a uniforn. Typically French. Boring but stylish. Think of the stereotype and that's reality. You may think the French are at the cutting edge of fashion but the truth is they aren't any more. It's the English who are. Love it or loathe it. The only trouble is we are so radical in our fashion we have lost the sense of style the French have clinged to. They have become boring, the English have become Avant guarde. But Still the French girls knocks spots off the English. It's their deportment and the way they carry themselves. It's not just the clothes. It's their attitude.
I get criticised a lot for being a Francophile. But really we have a lot to learn from the French. They have an attitude. Sort of Laissez faire, a "Manana" thing. To us English everything has to be here and now. But to the French it can wait until tomorrow. Yes they have their protests.Like barricading the ports with burning carcusses of dead sheep. But if you want to know the truth I would rather be French than English. I would rather be laid back and live a simple life than be English and be chasing the dollar.
My Catherine has no yearning for money. We have have discussed this at length. She doesn't want a fast car, a big house, a swimming pool. She wants a simple life with just enough money to pay the bills. And to be honest that's what I want as well. I have no hankering for a yacht. Or a chateau. I am not interested in fast cars or material possessions. I just want my Catherine. I'll tell you more as time goes on. I could be making a fool of myself but my Catherine is all I want. I have a joke with my Mother. She asks me what I want for my birthday/ Christmas etc and I tell her "I only want what you can't give me." That's my Catherine.

I'll tell you more in future issues of this blog. God I hate the word "blog".
I hope to explain to you why our situation is so difficult and why I can't finish the novel. It's a love story. IT's a love story with ramifications. If only life was simple. You think you have things sorted, you don't know the half of it. Try falling in love with someone who is from a different country and speaks a different language. It's not easy. But then should true love be easy?

iPod now playing - Sorry I haven't even switched it on tonight.

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