Seraphiel´s blog: července 2013

Yesterday, on the 6th of July, I went to see a long anticipated exhibition devoted to Marilyn Monroe. I have been planning to go for several months but then felt slightly put off when the news came that part of the displays have been stolen on a way to Prague. I´m sure they stole those items that were of the most value. Nevertheless, I decided to visit it and see for myself.
It took place in Jízdárna Pražského Hradu, just near the Prague Castle. What I noticed first was the sorrowful, melancholically sweet music that flowed through the air as I walked along the walls covered with pinned up posters, photos and personally handwritten letters of hers. I saw what seemed to be loose pages of her private diary, sometimes they were taken from one source, at other times it appeared as if they had no connection whatsoever. Just single pages torn from a book. I noticed the handwriting was rather erratic, changing its course many times, the width and the direction of letters, all that in one single random page.
She scribbled her thoughts uncomprehending that the world will read them one day. I was thinking, what if I become famous? Maybe I ought to write in less chaotic way, so that the future readers have at least a notion that I was normal.
A sort of sad emotion followed me throughout the whole place, a heavy sweet sadness that lingered all around as I watched her shoes by Ferragama, her coats and gowns that she once wore in Prince and the Dancer or Some like it hot and many others. I could watch short videos from various times...Marilyn giving an interview, Marilyn dancing and acting....Marilyn singing for President Kennedy....and I could hear her joyous laughter that rang like pearls falling down on the ground. I imagined what it felt to stand next right to her, her build so small and tender. I always thought she was plump, but when looking at all her gowns, her waist was like that of a wasp. Small shoulders, tiny figure altogether. I wish I would fit in one of those.
I extremely loved the gowns she wore. They were on the pompous side, but oh gosh, the material, the style. I loved the one with heavy black fur around her shoulders or the dress that had this funny giant bow on the hip. When inspecting her shoes, I noticed they were extremely worn out. Not the heels, just the leather or suede they were made of. I guess she loved to walk in them to some extent.
There were also many photographs of her by Cecil Beaton (they were the best!), Stern, Barris, Greene and De Dienes.
To me, Marilyn wasn´t just an icon of her era. She was a human being, a vulnerable at that, and yet she had the strenght to face the world. I admire her for what she was, underneath all those pompous and frivolous faces she has been wearing. Inside there, she was a beautiful and determined woman that only longed for love, as we all are.