An occasion to remember

She has put on her best dress. White. Her finest shoes, white short socks. On her arm, a bracelet. Her mother arranges her hair. Her blonde curls… She feels special, beautiful. She looks like haute couture. It’s a special day.
I imagine she’d never been to see a photographer before. I can picture her going through Rue de Huchette, or perhaps Quai St. Michel after taking the metro. She holds her mothers’ hand quite tight. And her mother is careful in the busy streets.
In the studio, she takes her coat off. The city is not summer warm anymore.
I think that after walking a bit, she needs to run around, and move and play, without holding hands with anyone. But she is probably very polite, and a bit proud that she can take the photographers hand and say “Bonjour”. Words in a foreign language.
Maybe she found the leaf outside, on the street. It looks like a leaf from an oak tree. Maybe the photographer thinks it’s a good idea to leave the leaf right there, on the bench where she sits when he takes the picture.
She puts on her most lovely smile. She is happy.
Afterwards they went to buy a colourful and sweet “gateaux” or some “petit four”. Or perhaps ice cream. She’d eat like a little princess, and be very careful not to ruin her lovely dress.
They’d have a good time together, my mother, and her mother in wonderful Paris, 1936.

Advertisements