Classic Beauty

I see that one of the world’s most beautiful redheads passed away recently, at age 97.  To be frank, I didn’t know that Rhonda Fleming was still alive, but there ya go.  So to make up for the oversight, here she is, in her prime:

“Wait a minute, Kim,”  I hear you exclaim, “I thought you said she was a redhead.”

Oh, yeah.

Just exceptional.  They do not make them like this anymore.

In fact, I don’t think they made them like this back then, either.

Off The Shoulder

In today’s post I’m going to sing the praises of an article of women’s clothing which alas seems quite unfashionable these days, whereas it should be as perennially popular as blue jeans:  the loose, baggy, off-the-shoulder sweater.  Here’s an example:

The wonderful thing about this garment is that it looks sexy:  that slightly impression of wantonness  coupled with (in some cases) a tantalizing glimpse of the breast whenever the lady leans forward makes, for me at least, a hugely-erotic sight.

It’s completely ruined by the appearance of a bra strap, by the way;  the whole essence of the thing is near-nudity, even under so large and thick a garment.

Now I know that Not All Women Can Go Braless… but actually,  a loose floppy sweater does an excellent job of concealing loose, floppy breasts, for example, so what would be unthinkable with any other garment top is not at all out of the question with a wide, loose-topped sweater.  Here’s one with a very loose neck:

In each of the above cases, the model has a fairly modest bust — but a larger one would make the garment quite sensationally sexy.

While I quite like the Victorian “below-the-shoulder” (i.e. both shoulders uncovered), it’s a little more overt (albeit also very sexy too):

…but this one is definitely reserved for the Young ‘N Perky Set because of its tightness.

But a big ol’ floppy sweater falling off one shoulder?

Have mercy.

 

New Hire

Say hello to Kraut football team Borussia Dortmund’s newest staff member, Alica Schmidt, who has been recruited to help get the players fit:

Okay, maybe we should see her in her drab athletic garb, which is what she would be wearing every day in her fitness-training duties:

Not helping much, is it?  Ah, what the hell:

I expect 100% attendance at Dortmund’s fitness sessions in the future (states Captain Obvious ).

Namesake

Several of my Brit Readers over the years have asked me whether I’m related to Elize du Toit, who played Izzy Davies in the Brit TV show Hollyoaks  for several years.

I should mention at this point that while the entire South African Du Toit clan sprang from the loins of two brothers back in the late 17th century, the family’s sporting instincts have resulted in literally thousands who bear that last name in the sub-continent.

A quick aside:  I once invited a guy and his wife over for dinner and, as these things happen, he lost my address after setting out.  All he knew was that I lived just outside Johannesburg in a little town named Bedfordview, but no problem:  he was a resourceful lad and stopped somewhere and borrowed a Johannesburg phone book — after all, there couldn’t be that many “Du Toit K” entries, right?  Not finding that entry anywhere, he started from the beginning, and after four and a half pages gave up, phoned a mutual friend and got directions to my house.

It didn’t help his temper that when he got there and told me the story, I laughingly pointed out that I wasn’t even in the Johannesburg phone book anyway, but in the Greater Johannesburg (“Witwatersrand”) directory — which had six pages of Du Toits.

So when someone asks if I’m related to ” ___ du Toit”, the answer is invariably no.

It’s a good thing I’m not related to Elize, though;  it might have had an unfortunate or (as we call it) a “Mississippi” outcome.

B4RT85 Television actress Elize du Toit Circa December 2001

All the above were taken during her Hollyoaks days.  Here’s one from a couple years back:

She has apparently retired from acting — three kids will often do that to yer career — but she’s still active on the celebrity scene.

Now you know, and quit asking.

From Pretty To Peculiar

There’s this TV show called Love Island, where pretty young heterosexual things of all types get to hang around in seclusion somewhere and bonk each other.  (I may not have got this quite right, as I’ve never actually watched the poxy thing, but this seems to be what happens.)  After the season ends, the cast go on to make all sorts of money from endorsements and Instagram appearances and so on.

Nice work, if you can get it.

And to get it,  you need to be pretty, regardless of whether you have a pleasure pole or a love socket.

The men, needless to say, don’t do much to make themselves look more attractive to the women — ’twas ever thus, except for men of the Elton John persuasion — but the sluts women certainly do.  And of course, by today’s deplorable standards of beauty, a girl needs to have an ass of Lopez/Kardashian dimensions, and a face that… well, see for yourselves.

Here’s an article which shows Before / After pics of some of the girls’ faces.  Most of them are fairly plain, but one stuck out as particularly sad:

She went from being quite stunning to looking like a RealDoll.

Yes, that’s a RealDoll.  I challenge anyone to contradict me.

In describing my despair at our modern life, I often say that I’m just a 1911 man trying to live in a 2020 world.  And I’m not exaggerating.

Here are three famous Edwardian beauties (Gladys Cooper, Lily Elsie and Marie Doro).  Compare them (and their contemporaries) with the grotésqueries  in the above article, and I think you’ll get my point.

 

Not a stitch of cosmetic surgery anywhere.  And if you didn’t fall instantly in love with one or all of the above three, I don’t want to talk to you anymore.

Classic Designs

Just about every sentient human being has their own set of criteria for what constitutes a “classic” design.  My own are fairly simple, in that a classic design:

  • should make everyone who sees it go:  “Ah yes!  That’s  _____________”;
  • must stand the test of time — people should recognize exactly what it is, decades after its creation or even demise;
  • should be universally recognizable even to people not familiar with the product or product category;
  • should be beautiful enough so that one might desire to own it or view it in person, even when you’re not quite sure exactly what it is.

I (and others) might not even care for the stuff, but the iconic designs nevertheless need to be recognized as such.  Here are some examples of what I’m talking about.

E-type Jaguar

Walther PPK (“the James Bond gun”)

The Eiffel Tower

Volkswagen Beetle (old shape)

Cartier (“Tank”) Watch

P-08 (Luger)

Austin Mini (old shape)

The Parthenon

Winchester 1894

Omega Seamaster

1965 Ford Mustang

Spitfire

Those are just the first ones that spring to mind — I used the “five-minute” rule to establish which, to me, exemplify the concept.  Yours may differ, so feel free to comment.