I’m sitting here with hair dye plopped on my roots and looking out the window on this gray and rainy Sunday morning. I may head out later on this afternoon to purchase tights or I may not; it depends on how the weather will hold up.
Notice that I have more dye on my SHIRT than on my HAIR! At least the roots will be covered!
It’s 8:25 in the morning and it’ll take a good part of the day to “do” my hair. The rollers are set aside and so are the bobby pins.
I wore wigs on Thursday and Friday. They were a bit shiny and straight. I liked them but a certain someone who just happens to be a Frenchman, has now decided to give his opinion on the hair that I wear. He wants to go wig shopping with me. This is both great and not so great. It’s great because he now realizes that my hair loss is severe enough that I can no longer rely on the hair fiber sprinkles.
Bonaparte did NOT like this look on me…
..nor did he like this. He said it doesn’t fit my personality or my squared-angular face. Just what I always wanted. A French beauty and hair consultant!
However, Mr. Bonaparte, beauty consultant, DOES love the natural way my Uniwig topper blends in with my bio hair.
My guess is that he will LOVE my new inexpensive Model Model wig–it is very wavy and I happen to think it looks very natural! But moving forward, I will bring Mr. Bonaparte, Beauty Consultant with me to the wig store!
He told me that I need to find “hair” to match my face. He wasn’t talking about my upper-lip hair or lady whiskers either.
And NO Mr. Bonaparte, Beauty Consultant. I will NOT take you with me when I get my lip waxed!
He basically meant that I need to find a wig that is more like my personality and better suited to my facial features. He does not like straight, close-to-the-head hair on me. He likes waves—which are more conducive to my bio hair.
But more than rolling my eyes and looking up at the ceiling over his latest efforts to be my hair “consultant”. Something better dawned upon me. Bonaparte loves and respects women!
I’m sure by now you have all seen or at least read or heard about the latest and not-so-greatest from the misogynist known as Trump. Using the word “pussy” to describe how he grabs women. Speaking about women as though they are nothing more than objectified sexual beings. Not only is he hateful and disrespectful to all women, but as he described his antics, he was married and his wife was pregnant at the time. That is an all-time low!
This was NOT the pussy Trump was referring to…
Neither was this! OK??
A real man does not use these words. A real man is not a bully. A real man exhibits discretion. A real man is respectful. A real man is kind and a real man is not a macho man.
I can’t wrap my head around why any woman—or real man for that fact would continue to support someone who displays such vile, vulgar, and disrespectful words, actions and thoughts toward another woman. I can’t wrap my head around the hate that Hillary Clinton receives from these women who support Trump. My guess is that these are un-and undereducated women who grew up in households where women were treated like second-class citizens. My thinking is that these are the women who need to depend 100 percent on men for their existence because they either refuse to do it on their own or—well, or whatever. Do I hate these women? No. I don’t. I feel sympathy and empathy for them. I feel that way because there has to be deep-rooted issues for these women to make them feel that way.
I am saddened by the women who don’t support Hillary–actually, I’m more saddened by the vengeful hatred they spew toward her. But–I’m not a hater of women. I feel sorry for the women who support Trump because there are deep-rooted issues that they face.
Regardless, I don’t want to go there…this post is more about the real man I share my life with and the men who genuinely love and respect women.
To Mr. Bonaparte! Fashion Consultant. Beauty Consultant. All-around decent Frenchman who loves women!
Bonaparte loves women. He doesn’t love them in a lewd and malicious way. He loves women in a genuine way. He is happy to be among the company of women. He would rather compliment a woman on her successes rather than talk football with the guys. (Although he does love his soccer!).
He finds women to be fascinating and intriguing. When he speaks of his granddaughter and her capabilities, his eyes light up. When he speaks of his daughter, he regards her so highly that I swear his feet lift up off the ground.
And when he speaks about how my own daughter, Oona, has reached success and has matured, his eyes tear up. He is proud of her and happy for her.
And during all of our visits to see Daniele, he always put her needs and wishes before ours, making sure she was always well-taken care of!
Bonaparte with Daniele–on our last visit with her before she passed. Look how happy she is! He always made sure she was taken care of!
And when he tells me that a certain outfit doesn’t look good on me, he isn’t telling me that because he wants to humiliate me or want me to feel bad about myself. He is being honest and he will suggest something that will flatter me. Sometimes I listen to him and sometimes I do not listen to him. And he doesn’t become angry if I don’t pay attention to his suggestions. He will always find something to compliment me on.
One of the outfits that Bonaparte would not like to see me venture out in public wearing! Don’t worry Mr. Bonaparte, Fashion Consultant. I won’t. Well, maybe. Well, only if you aren’t around!
He understands my struggle with weight, but will tell me not to lose too much off my “boo-tee-feel” Renoir derriere. And yet, he fully supports my efforts of weight loss—in fact, sometimes he supports it a bit too much! But it’s all good.
Only a real man would say something nice about an ass this wide. Merci!
When I get into the zone of darkness and doom, he doesn’t become angry with me. He allows it to ride out, but he also approaches me and very kindly asks me to let him know what is bothering me—I need to get it off my chest.
Well, CAN we? I guess so! Even when I close up (and you can ask my kids about THAT one), Bonaparte gets me to open up to him.
When we are out and about, he will notice a chic older woman and point her out to me. He was equally fascinated by the infamous “Lady in Green” that we spotted in Ste. Maxime this past summer and it was he who tried to get better photos of her. Bonaparte appreciates a well-put-together woman.
The infamous “Lady in Green”. Bonaparte was over-the-moon impressed with her ensemble!
As much as I love Renoir’s nudes, my favorites are the nudes by Gustave Courbet because they are more realistic and are what they are.
Real Man Gustave Courbet’s self-portrait portrays the shock of Frenchmen after hearing how Trump speaks about women! Courbet, one of the leaders of Realism in painting, is my favorite painter of nudes. I also love his other paintings. I LOVE Courbet!
Courbet’s “Nude With Parrot”. I love how beefy these women were.
Bonaparte favors the ethereal nudes by Renior because he says the love of women shows through more. Yes. A real man can appreciate the female body in all her glorious nudity in the right context.
Renoir’s Bathers. Seriously. How can you NOT love the softness in Renoir’s paintings. He is my favorite Impressionist. But Bonaparte absolutely adores Renoir’s nudes! Renoir is another real man with a love for a beefier female body! Right on guys!
He praises my cooking—especially when I present a French dish that reminds him of being back in his native France. And he will clean the mess I made without complaint. A true sign of a real man.
Last night I made Rognons a la Moutarde. Kidneys in a cream and cognac mustard sauce. It reminded Bonaparte of his life in Paris! And I’m a sucker for offal!
The world can take a lesson from the way a Frenchman looks at women in general.
Oh..I know all about the amorous adventures of Frenchmen—but a good number of these adventures are overblown and stereotypical. Even in their dalliances on film and those of real-life, the Frenchman treats women with respect and with dignity. Two of my favorite French film male characters are both characters created by Francois Truffaut—Antoine Doinel, portrayed by Truffaut look alike, Jean-Pierre Léaud, and Bertrand Morane, played by one of my favorite French actors, Charles Denner.
Jean-Pierre Leaud, not only a Truffaut look-alike, but he is Truffaut’s alter-ego, Antoine Doinel.
Francois Truffaut–another man who TRULY loved women!
The great and handsome man of the sexiest speaking voice of all time–Charles Denner. His portrayal of Bertrand Morane was honest and touching. A real man with faults but who loved women
Both characters aren’t perfect. They have faults. But they both love and appreciate women. And because of that I highly recommend watching the five-part film series The Adventures of Antoine Doinel, beginning with The 400 Blows. I also highly recommend Truffaut’s The Man Who Loved Women.
The 400 Blows–quite possibly one of the greatest films of all time–and an insight into the minds of both Truffaut and Doinel.
It is time for me to revisit this film!
But I’m getting off subject here as I usually do.
Certainly my life with Bonaparte isn’t without ups and downs. And he is incredibly grateful for the many times, the few times, the times, when I always apologize that one time I apologized after an intense argument!
As much as it damn near killed me, I apologized. Once. I believe it was one of Bonaparte’s happiest moments ever!
It is also the little things he does—like filling my car up with gas simply because I’m obsessed that a drop of gas will get on my clothing or my good shoes and some dope with a cigarette will approach me and I will go up flames.
Yes. It is true. I suffer from Zoolander Gas Station Explosion Syndrome!
Or the way he will bring flowers home because every home should have fresh flowers—how many real men do that?
When I come home from work and plop my bag on the counter, I’ll be surprised with flowers like this!
And the way he still opens the car door open for me.
But he isn’t the only real man I know. The two other real men are my sons, Jake and Roman. They treat women with the respect we so deserve and are huge proponents of their sister. The highest compliments I’ve ever received were not how great my sons performed in sports or academically. The highest praise I, as a mother received, was from mothers of girls who expressed their appreciation of how my boys treated their daughters. What mother would not be proud of that?
My sons have grown from kind and respectful boys into real men. I am proud and thankful for that!
So today I want to ask you to leave a comment in celebrating the real men in your life! This is a time when we need to pause and remember that there are decent men out there and not lascivious, lewd, lecherous, filthy animals such as the male who is running for president of these already GREAT United States of America.
Although I don’t say it often enough, thanks to all the real men out there who treat us women with respect and thank you to my sons and Bonaparte. You are a rarity!
Here’s Barbra. As Fanny Brice. Belting out one of the great songs celebrating her man Nick.
Here’s to all the good and real men out there. Fathers. Husbands. Sons. Brothers. Friends. You know who they are!