History of Gender in Fashion

History of Gender in Fashion Role of designers need not be gender biased or biology biased. A detailed scrutiny into gender and sex shows one is biological and other societal. For instance, females, biologically are designed to give birth. Once they have given birth and performed the mammalian function, they can take up a role of hunter or a warrior. The terms hunter and nester refer to masculine and feminine. Masculine describes an approach that is abstract in nature, usually focused on a splendid thought, the way of a hunter. Contrary to this, feminine approach is considered to be orchestrating detailed decisions contributing to wider set of objectives, the way of a nester. Regardless of sex, fashion designers can be categorized into 3 groups- Hunter, Nester and nester- hunter designer. Hunter designers are those who have focused approach on one thing but to do that very efficiently. Designers in nester group have broad minded approach. They aspire to take steps in sequence contributing to a decision keeping i n mind long term objectives. Fashion was not always a gendered occurrence. Until eighteenth century, both men and women decked themselves with elaborate dresses. Costume historians have elaborated that gender distinction in dress was not that prominent until nineteenth century. Men and women in elite class often emulated abundant show of rich velvets, fine silks, lace, decorative footwear, wigs, head embellishments and scented powders. Men in pink suits, gold and silver jewelry and embroidered shirts were considered very masculine, regardless of choice of color or ornaments worn. The more intricate the dress, the higher used to be the status of the wearer in the society. Fashion was not only a womens affair then. It became feminized since nineteenth century when gender representation became stronger than societal class. With the turn of century, not only fashion became more feminized, but male identity went through a distinct change with modernization. Early theorists related fashion to the social status of women. The affluent displayed their wealth by ornamenting their wives and daughters exuding an air of sophistication. The women also spent endless efforts and hours to be ladies. At the end of eighteenth century bourgeois male went through the great masculine renunciation, as a result of which men gave up wearing all the bright colors and jewelry leaving it to the womens domain. In post industrial societies, men were guided by occupational spheres. Their business and casual attire were starkly different. Also age segmentation has played a very prominent role in defining mens style. Amongst women, age segmentation is only for those who want to believe in it. Although the designer fashion tends to extend beyond the boundaries of masculinity, the gender fashion still exists between male and female fashion. To that extent, fashion may be assumed to be cultural, affecting consumers perception and experience of design.The impact of gender is very evident in the visual appearances in consumers mind. For instance, pink for the girl and blue for the boy goes the clichà © defining gender by color coding. In the designer world, industrial design is thought as male and textile design as female. Even design is rendered into gender stereotypes like feminine lace, dolls for girls, masculine leather, etc. As industriliazation took place, social stratas on clothing transformed in eterms of occupation. The social chasm between lower class, middle and upper class was huge during the industrial era. Clothes were almost unavailable for the poor but were in abundance for the rich- for whom changes in fashions were created. Members of other social classes were just expected to emulate the rich if they wished to appear fashionable. By late nineteenth century clothes had become cheaper and accessible to lower classes of society. Middle and upper class women spent substantial amount of their incomes on fashionable clothes. Mens social clothing became more and more simplified. Infact the concept of uniforms and dress codes gained importance to showcase the ranks in the bureaucratic organizations. In the twentieth century, clothes seem to have lost their economic relevance but not their symbolic relevance. This is because clothes are available in all price ranges to suit all pockets. Those with l imited resources can still emulate fashion by creating personal styles which are expression of their identities rather than imitating styles of the affluent. Appearance of fashion indicated sudden appearance of a new social bond and a social temporality with time, fashion trends have changed. It has been dominated by cult, uniqueness, inspiration from local and foreign models. Fashion instituted the social power of minute signs which has an astonishing mechanism of social distinction of those who dress in an innovative way. It also draws inspiration from ancestral heritage and social norms. Fashion perhaps forms a major part in the construction of a social identity. It is an indication of how people in different eras showcased their positions and status boundaries. The most visible marks of social status and gender has been broadly showcased by Fashion. Fashion dictates the choices that people make in the form of culture, norms and appropriateness of the occasion. For instance, hats were a huge fashion statement and were worn to either showcase recognised or desired social status. Fashion clothing also revealed the occupation, social class and regional origin of a person. It distinguishes elite fashion from everyday fashion. There is very less in common amongst dressing style of a secretary a homemaker, a businessman and a law enforcement officer. As a social phenomenon, it has been treated as futile because of huge association of outward appearance with women. The face of fashion defines its phenomena. Female fashion emanates uniqueness and change. Mens interest in fashion is dictated by their occupation generally but womens interest depends upon their fascination with beauty. Now the nature of fashion seems to have changed. From nineteenth century when fashion was more on well defined standard of societal appearance has now evolved into being more contemporary. It has become indistinct, multifaceted and highly fragmented. New styles have been evolved over the years. Societies have changed dramatically in the past few decades. Social class has become less prominent in the contemporary society of today. Instead of class differentiation there is fragmentation of cultures within socities. 1960s was a special era in the sense where fashion emerged in lower status groups and adopted by the affluent. This fashion phenomena defied age and social barriers conveying pride to the trendsetter. In early 90s, designers triesd to be innovative by adding feminine elements to menswear.Also there seemed to be a female dominance over the culture. Fashion for women fits the definition of conflicted supremacy. Women have held contrasting position in different times ranging from marginally unconcealed to conservative to acceptable fashionable to feminine dominance and empowerment in 90s. Turrow believes lifestyles are now in hypersegmentation which isolates each lifestyle in its own niche. People are more likely to frequent changes in their lifestyle now. The mulitplicity of changes that such lifestyle in a contemporary society presents the opportunity to an indidual to break away from tradition.Todays individual constructs a send of identity from his past, present and future events, commitments and aspirations. The individual styles have also gone through frequent changes in line with their changing lifestyles. Personal orientation, income, education, family careers, social position influence a persons taste in fashion. The younger generation today, usually with more affluent background have post modernist attitude towards identity. Attitude of younger women towards fashion is that of liberalization, power and personal panache. Men are now borrowing elements of costumes from women. Problems are faced when there is persistence to keep male gender above the female one . Today men spend lot of time and money on hair styling, appearance, fashionable clothing and skin products. These men are being coined as metrosexual. A metrosexual man willingly displays his masculinity from his ability to consume, showcase his toned physique to assert his identity as an urban middle class man.Yet again, fashion is being used to exhibit gender identity. Fashions most imminent characteristic is that it changes. With multiple demands on clothing and dressing, change is the only constant. Cross-dressing has come up as a welcome antidote to confining concepts of society and gender. It offers alternative ways to visualize and dress up a gender and might end up freeing the consumers restrictive thoughts on gender dressing. Realm of fashion in undergoing a radical change. Fashion contributes to newer definitions of social identities and newer attributes to personal preferences. Today because of globalization, fashion houses have to constantly innovate, think out of the box as consumers are no longer fashion victims. Gender studies in design have now challenged these contentious gender, sterotypes, cultural and societal outlook. Female designers earlier have been more prevalent in ceramics, textile designs and men more prominent in abstract art and advertising designs. These self, societal and cultural divisions are breaking down now. Men and women both have critical roles to play as consumers and producers of design. People select styles to suit their identity, lifestyle and societal norms. Fashion is a choice not a compulsion. It is not a simple process to achieve equivalence between design and customer preference. Designers today are pushing gender based boundaries in fashion and almost pulverizing them. They are bringing to life their vision of what they consider fashion. Designers are now teaming up with people who have different perspectives to make an impact in all their designs. They take pride in and gain strength from the richness of a multicultural society and recognize it as a continuous growth . They work in an environment where they contribute their thoughts freely and create designs. These designs are sated with utmost creativity, uniqueness, abstractness and intricacy at the same time. This has become the definition of success. Sources Used http://books.google.com/books?id=vphcHONAXmwCprintsec=frontcoverdq=what+is+fashion+as+an+identityhl=enei=G8I1TbSfBo6AhQet4pi_Cwsa=Xoi=book_resultct=resultresnum=1ved=0CCMQ6AEwAA#v=onepageqf=false http://books.google.com/books?id=jxtMLGIdQ8cCpg=PA323dq=challenge+gender+and+stereotypes+in+fashionhl=enei=7i02TZ7PDcb-4wbn-M3fAgsa=Xoi=book_resultct=resultresnum=8ved=0CFEQ6AEwBw#v=onepageq=challenge%20gender%20and%20stereotypes%20in%20fashionf=false http://books.google.com/books?id=LUWTJWXZ2QQCpg=PA10dq=male+and+female++fashionhl=enei=YVk1TdKHKonKhAfon7m8Cwsa=Xoi=book_resultct=resultresnum=1ved=0CCwQ6AEwAA#v=onepageq=male%20and%20female%20%20fashionf=false

Succubus Heat CHAPTER 21

There was really only one thing I could say. â€Å"You're here to kill me.† That would have been a great cue for him to say something like, â€Å"No, of course not† or â€Å"Why would you think that?† Any of those responses, or a variation, would have been immensely reassuring. Instead he said: â€Å"Not yet.† â€Å"Shit.† I took a couple steps back, knowing it wouldn't do any good. Even if I'd been in full succubus mode, there was no way I could fight against him. Roman was a nephilim, Jerome's half-human bastard son. Nephilim were a kind of odd mix between lesser and greater immortals. Nephilim hadn't been around since the universe's creation, but they had been born immortal and could potentially possess the same range of powers as a greater immortal. Roman was every bit as strong as Jerome, but unlike my boss or his equals, Roman didn't answer to any higher power. He was rogue, which made him dangerous when he was pissed off. And he had every right to be pissed off at me. Angry at the way Heaven and Hell hunted their kind down, Roman and his twin sister Helena had gone on a vigilante hunting spree to get back at other immortals. I hadn't known that when he and I were dating, and eventually, I'd been instrumental in stopping them-and getting his sister killed. â€Å"What are you doing here then?† I asked at last. Roman's posture was casual as he crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. He looked exactly as I remembered, enormously tall compared to me, with soft black hair and those gorgeous eyes. â€Å"You sound disappointed,† he said. â€Å"Do you want me to kill you?† â€Å"No! Of course not. But I can't really think of any other reason you'd be here. Somehow I doubt you're here for a social call.† Despite my fear, my sarcasm still managed to function. Carter had told me it was unlikely Roman would ever return to Seattle, knowing that he and Jerome would be on the lookout. Except, I realized uneasily, Jerome was no longer here to keep watch. â€Å"I'm here to help find my illustrious sire.† Roman's voice was smug as he spoke, and I was sure he was taking a great amount of pleasure in watching my reaction. I hoped he was satisfied because while my jaw didn't exactly hit the floor, it came pretty close. â€Å"Bullshit.† â€Å"Why don't you believe me?† â€Å"Because you have no reason to!† My fear was being overridden again, this time by incredulity. â€Å"You hate Jerome.† â€Å"Yeah, that's true.† â€Å"Stop playing with me then. You're not here to help.† â€Å"No? Then how come I helped you with the seal's notes?† â€Å"You didn't-† I froze for a moment. â€Å"Oh lord. That was you.† â€Å"Really,† said Roman amiably. â€Å"You should be a lot nicer, considering all the things I've done for you.† â€Å"Yeah? I don't recall you wasting your time wandering aimlessly along beaches.† â€Å"Nah. I've been too busy blowing up stoves and carrying injured damsels to bed.† I sank into a chair and closed my eyes. â€Å"It really wasn't Carter.† The angel had been telling the truth about noninterference. I opened my eyes again. â€Å"And you gave me the matches, didn't you? That's exactly the kind of fucked-up thing you'd do.† He put on an offended air. â€Å"That was pretty nice of me, considering how you looked like you were ready to have a withdrawal seizure then and there.† â€Å"This doesn't make sense. You can't be here to help find Jerome. What's really going on?† â€Å"Does the reason matter if I help find him?† â€Å"Yes! It matters if you want to find him, only so you can promptly destroy him.† â€Å"I don't want to destroy him.† â€Å"I have no reason to trust you.† His eyes narrowed a bit. â€Å"And I have no reason to trust you, if memory serves.† I shrugged, almost too weary to be afraid anymore. â€Å"Well, then, we're even, huh? Except, of course, that you can channel your mistrust into blowing me off the face of the earth.† â€Å"And you could tell the demon horde out there that there's a nephilim in the city.† Roman laughed. â€Å"Oh, they'd love that, wouldn't they? If one of them could hunt down and kill a nephilim, that'd pretty much cinch their position here.† â€Å"Yeah, like I'd get a chance to tell anyone.† I sighed. â€Å"Roman, if you're not going to destroy me, then what exactly do you want with me? Why did you save me all those times?† â€Å"Because you're the only one in this fucking town with any chance of finding Jerome. And you can move around a lot more freely than I can.† â€Å"Um, last time I checked, you're the one in the Junior Smiting League, not me. I don't have any pow-abilities right now to defend myself.† â€Å"Yeah, but if you're caught poking around, people aren't going to declare open season on you†¦I mean, aside from that bitch demoness.† I grimaced at the memory, and Roman pushed forward. â€Å"Look, Georgina, we can sit and argue whether I'm going to kill you or not, or we can try to figure this out and get your boss back. Then we can explore me killing you in more depth.† â€Å"God,† I groaned, standing up. I needed my cigarettes. Roman watched me light up. â€Å"New habit since I was last around.† â€Å"Old one, actually. And I'm not in the mood for lecturing.† I sat back down, feeling much more settled with my nicotine. Aubrey wandered out shortly thereafter, apparently not afraid of a sociopathic-yet still eerily sexy-immortal hanging out with us. â€Å"So, what's there to figure out? It was Grace. You said you saw the seal around her neck.† Roman eased himself into a chair from my kitchen table and scooted up. â€Å"I did. Makes sense that she'd keep it as close to her as possible, though that takes some balls to have it out in the open that much.† â€Å"So why won't you let me tell anyone, then?† He tsked. â€Å"Think, Georgina. Who are you going to tell? Which demon in this whole mess do you think you can trust? None of them like Jerome. None of them want him back.† â€Å"I was going to tell Hugh.† â€Å"You can't tell anybody . I was walking along with you today when Cedric popped in.† It figured. There was no telling how long Roman had been following me invisibly. â€Å"If he was telling the truth about not telling Nanette about your theories, then that means one of your friends tipped her off.† â€Å"No,† I said stubbornly. â€Å"It's more likely that Cedric was lying. None of them would have betrayed me.† To my complete and utter astonishment, Aubrey jumped on Roman's lap. He scratched her head absentmindedly. â€Å"Well, believe what you want, but I don't think it's safe to tell anyone yet. Except me, of course.† â€Å"Right. The guy who wants me dead.† â€Å"Eh, we can talk about that later. For now, let's go over what we know.† I wasn't really keen on the casual way we were tossing around my impending doom, nor did I like that I still didn't know why he was here. Keeping my mind on Jerome did help, though, and it was nice to finally have someone to truly brainstorm this stuff with. â€Å"We know Grace was the demon who helped with the summoning,† I said. â€Å"There could be more, you know.† â€Å"Yeah, but there's only one archdemon position.† â€Å"True. Just don't rule other possibilities out. She and that other demoness here are pretty tight.† I thought about Mei, whose poker face was as good as Grace's. â€Å"Yeah†¦although, they seem to be operating pretty independently now. But, for the sake of argument, we'll stick with Grace. So, we know she was part of the summoning and has half of the seal. What we don't know: where the other half of the seal is, who helped her, and where Jerome actually is.† â€Å"Kind of daunting,† he mused. A thought suddenly came to me. â€Å"Wait a minute†¦you might make this simpler. A greater immortal can break up Jerome's prison. With you, we don't need to actually find the whole seal to free him-or get the half we know about from Grace.† Roman turned sheepish. â€Å"Well†¦I don't know for sure that I can do that.† â€Å"Why not? You've got the same powers as Jerome.† â€Å"My strength is the same as his when it comes to fighting and whatnot, but I don't have exactly the same powers. I'm not truly a greater immortal. I don't know if I could break him out without the seal.† â€Å"Lovely. We're back to where we started.† â€Å"I don't know. We should just take this one step at a time. Let's keep trying to find him and figure out where the other half of the seal is.† â€Å"We're running out of time,† I murmured, stubbing out the cigarette. â€Å"So, why are you smoking again?† â€Å"That's not really important right now,† I snapped. â€Å"I don't know. If I had a mortal body, I'd be kind of worried about that.† â€Å"I'm not mortal. And I'll be back to my normal self in a few days at most. Probably much sooner.† â€Å"Is it because of Mortensen?† â€Å"We are not talking about that right now.† â€Å"Never thought you'd be one to take a break-up so hard, seeing how easily you deal them out. In fact†¦has anyone ever even broken up with you before?† I fixed him with a glare, so annoyed that I didn't care if he wanted to try to kill me. â€Å"We are not talking about that right now.† â€Å"Fine, fine. What other info do we have, then?† I racked my brain. â€Å"The cult†¦the Army of Darkness. I think there's a connection with Jerome's summoning and their activities. Whoever's controlling them-well, Grace, I guess-times their stunts to take attention away from other things.† I recapped what I knew of their stunts and what they lined up with. â€Å"Not all of their activities correspond exactly to some part of the summoning, though. At least not that I know about.† Roman was thoughtful. â€Å"Hmm†¦well, it's possible some may not line up with anything. A few may be red herrings, sort of to establish their presence. I didn't always follow you to Canada, so I don't know exactly what they're like.† â€Å"Wow. Your stalkerdom has limitations.† â€Å"Seemed like a big pain,† he said. â€Å"Aside from maybe going to Tim Hortons.† Nephilim couldn't teleport like greater immortals, so he was limited with normal transportation when following me around. Uneasily, thinking of my activities with Seth, I wondered just how much Roman had spied on me. It wouldn't have been the first time he'd taken a front-row seat to my intimate activities. If he wasn't going to mention it, I wasn't going to. â€Å"They've been quiet ever since the day of the summoning, when they were down here. I guess Grace has nothing left for them to do,† I said. â€Å"Likely†¦Ã¢â‚¬  His mind was still apparently spinning with suspicion. â€Å"But if I were you, I'd talk to them again.† I cringed. â€Å"No†¦I want to be done with them. You don't know these guys like I do. It's ridiculous.† â€Å"All I know is that you've got to turn over every rock you can find-no pun intended-if you're going to rescue Jerome.† â€Å"Oh, I've got to, huh?† I asked. I didn't really like the presumption in his voice. â€Å"I thought you were going to help find him too?† â€Å"I will. Tomorrow. When are you going to search again?† I thought about it. â€Å"Noon. After work.† There was a knock at the door, and I moved over to the eye hole. â€Å"It's Dante,† I murmured. To his credit, he usually knocked first before using his key. I rested my hand on the knob and gave Roman a questioning look. â€Å"I'll find you at noon,† he said. â€Å"Hold the door open a sec after you let him in.† Roman turned invisible, and I pulled the door open. Dante came in, and I stood there a few more moments until I felt the sweep of someone moving past me. Everything had happened so quickly today that I barely had time to realize that not only I had just made contact with the guy who wanted to kill me, but I'd also just made arrangements to spend time with him. Man. This was going to keep me up when I tried to sleep later. I shut the door and gave Dante a quick kiss on the cheek. He was carrying a bag, and I had to do a double-take. â€Å"Did you buy something from Macy's?† I exclaimed. â€Å"I somehow imagined you stepping into a department store would be like a vampire stepping into the sunlight-I mean, current situation aside.† Dante rolled his eyes and set the bag down. Crossings his arms, he leaned against the wall. â€Å"Well, maybe I'm in stasis too. Forget about this for a sec and tell me if you've gotten yourself on any demon's shit list today.† There it was again, the sweet concern in spite of his best efforts. â€Å"Not that I know of, but hey, the day's not over yet.† I glossed over the specifics of who I'd gone searching with, mainly emphasizing that my time at the beach hadn't turned up anything. I also mentioned Cedric's visit and his claims that he hadn't told Nanette about my suspicions. Dante seemed skeptical of that. Finally, I wrapped up with Grace's appearance, and at that point I faltered. I wanted to tell Dante about my amazing discovery, about how Grace had the seal. Yet Roman had urged me to keep it all to myself. Why? Was he really that mistrustful of everyone? Did he have his own ulterior motives? Against my better judgment, I bit my lip on telling Dante about my discovery. It killed me to do it, particularly since I had a feeling Dante could have some insight. Roman's warning was too strong, however, as was my fear that he might actually still be around invisibly. And of course, I could hardly tell Dante about Roman. Fortunately, Dante didn't pick up on any omission of information. â€Å"You had kind of a full day, succubus. Did the corporate demon ever come talk to you?† â€Å"Not yet. I haven't had a chance to talk with the gang to see if he's been making the rounds.† I eyed the Macy's bag, dying to know what was in it. Dante kicked it behind him. â€Å"What are you going to tell him?† I shrugged. â€Å"I don't know. I'll tell him what I know about Seattle, and as far as recommendations†¦well, I don't know.† I could no longer trust Grace, and Mei's role was still a mystery. Dante noted my change of feelings but not the reasons. â€Å"From what you'd said before, I thought you were a fan of Grace and that other demoness.† â€Å"Mei,† I supplied. â€Å"I don't know. It's all just wearying.† Eager to shift away from the subject, I pointed at the bag. â€Å"Are you going to tell me what's in that?† He gave me one of his mocking grins. â€Å"Why do you think it has anything to do with you?† â€Å"Because there's no way you'd shop at Macy's for yourself. You dress only marginally better than Carter.† Dante shook his head, wearing a long-suffering look. â€Å"Fine, fine. I'll keep it for myself.† He picked up the bag and headed off down the hall. After a few moments, I followed and tackled him in the doorway to my bedroom. â€Å"Come on! Give it up.† I snatched the bag away, but my victory was small since he didn't put up a fight. I opened it up and gasped at what I found. Folds and folds of shimmering purple fabric, silk the color of new spring crocuses. Hesitantly, I lifted it out of the bag, revealing a long, ankle-length robe. I looked up at him in astonishment. â€Å"What's this?† â€Å"You're the one with years and years of higher learning,† he pointed out, looking extremely pleased with himself. â€Å"You tell me.† I held it up, gauging its height. It looked just about perfect. â€Å"It's gorgeous. What's the occasion?† â€Å"I was tired of hearing you bitch about that ratty one you've got. And tired of seeing it, to be honest.† He ignored my glare. â€Å"Besides, you've had a, uh, difficult time lately. Even for you.† I thought back to other things, like the flowers and breakfast. All the attempts at dinners. â€Å"Dante-â€Å" He pressed a finger to my lips. â€Å"Look, be quiet a second. I'm not blind. I can tell how much all of this is stressing you out. And fuck, if I could get my hands on that bitch demon†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Anger glinted in his eyes, and he took a moment to shake it off. â€Å"Anyway, you can keep making your jokes or whatever and keep doggedly doing your best to sleuth away and find Jerome, but you're running yourself into the ground. You're depressed. You're distracted. When we talk, it's like your mind's somewhere else. Same with our sex life.† I opened my mouth to argue, but I wasn't sure what to say. He was right. I had been distracted, but a good part of that-particularly during intimate activities-hadn't had anything to do with Jerome. It had been Seth on my mind. Dante kept speaking before I could get a word out. â€Å"See, now, you're going to apologize. Because that's what you do-but there's no need, succubus. If anyone gets some selfish time right now, it's you. In another week or so, things'll be back to normal, and I'll be the selfish one.† Something in my heart twisted. Everyone said he was scum, but in the end, it turned out I was the untrustworthy one. I averted my eyes. â€Å"So where's the robe fit in?† â€Å"Something to cheer you up. Since your wardrobe's been trimmed.† â€Å"Dante, you've been getting me a lot of stuff lately. You don't have to throw money at me-money you don't have-to make me feel better.† â€Å"If I didn't have it, I wouldn't ‘throw' it,† he remarked dryly. â€Å"And anyway†¦I'm not really the kind of guy who does, like†¦the candles or the moonlit beaches or recites poetry.† I grimaced. â€Å"I don't mind staying away from beaches for a while.† â€Å"But,† he continued, â€Å"I know you well enough to know that mochas and silk make you smile, and that, at least, is something I can do.† My heart twisted further, and I reached out to catch hold of his hand. I understood what he was saying. It wasn't in his nature to do over-the-top romantic gestures, but material purchases were something he could handle, and it was the only way to show me he cared. My guilt redoubled because no matter what he said, I knew he was tight on cash. Yet, my actions and fixation with Seth were worrying Dante enough that he felt he had to do something. I was driving him to it. â€Å"You're sweet,† I said. â€Å"But don't worry. It'll be our secret.† He brushed his fingers through my hair. â€Å"Not that sweet. Look in the bag.† I did. Underneath the robe, unnoticed by me, was a bottle of bubble bath. I held it up questioningly. â€Å"I thought we could take a bath together.† I laughed. â€Å"That's almost romantic. You might be closer to moonlit beaches than you think. Although, my bathtub's kind of small.† â€Å"I know,† he said. â€Å"That's what I meant about it not being very sweet. Mostly I want to see what kind of interesting positions we can cram ourselves into while naked and in a small space.† â€Å"Well, thank God that in a world gone mad, some people never change.† It turned into a wet, soapy mess, but it was more fun than I expected. No matter what he claimed, the whole feat was semi-romantic. Conversation was easy and light, and we laughed and joked a lot. I almost forgot about Seth-almost. But when things started to get a little hot and heavy, I pulled back. No matter how sexy it was to be wet and naked with someone, it just didn't feel right if that person wasn't Seth. What made me feel worse was that Dante was accommodating about my mood. He figured my lack of desire was part of my stress, and so we eventually left the tub as chastely as we'd entered. We toweled each other off and then curled up on the couch and watched TV together while I tried not to feel too guilty about the purple robe wrapped around me. I decided the next day to finally add myself back to the bookstore's work schedule. I only put me down for part-time shifts until the demon business was settled, but at this point, it seemed unlikely I'd be recalled to Canada again. My limbo status couldn't last forever if I wanted to keep my job; Warren's leniency would only last so long. Roman and I had our plans to go to Edmonds at noon, so for my first official day back, I only worked a morning shift. Part of that shift involved coming in before the store was even open, and I welcomed the solitude. The store always soothed me, and if ever there was a time I needed soothing, it was right now. It was short-lived, however, since my other coworkers began trickling in not long after my arrival. Maddie was among them. â€Å"Hey,† she said brightly, popping into my office. â€Å"Is this another check-in or are you back for good?† â€Å"For good, I think. Not that it matters. It looks like everything's been fine without me.† She grinned and shut the door behind her. â€Å"Oh, we've missed you, believe me. No one's been here to referee my fights with Doug.† I laughed and watched her sit down. â€Å"Well then, I guess I got back just in time. Nice shoes.† Maddie extended her legs and admired her candy apple red pumps. â€Å"Thanks. Nordstrom's having a sale.† The brown leather Mia heels I currently wore were among my favorites, but after a week now with no shape-shifting, my wardrobe was starting to make me stir-crazy. It was kind of like my hair, I realized. I hadn't realized how dependent I was on shape-shifting to enhance my appearance. I'd lauded myself for living like a human when in truth, I'd been cheating the whole time. Seeing my wistful look, Maddie asked, â€Å"You want to go downtown for lunch and check it out?† I shook my head with regret. Looking at shoes sounded a lot better than looking at rocks. â€Å"Can't. I've got to meet someone.† â€Å"Ah, well, let me know when you get some time. You know I'm game.† Silence fell, and Maddie shifted uncomfortably. She bit her lip, like she wanted to say something. I started to prompt her, but she spoke first. â€Å"So, what did you think of the condo listings?† â€Å"Oh, they were†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Fuck. I'd never even read through them. Roman and Dante had spent more time looking at them than I had. Which one had Dante mentioned? â€Å"They were great. I really liked that new one-the one where you can still get in on the choices and stuff.† Her eyes lit up. â€Å"Ooh, yeah. I loved that one too. I actually looked them up on the builder's website. It doesn't look like there are many left, but there has to be at least one, or they wouldn't be listed. We should go down there and talk to them in person.† I smiled, feeling horrible about the lie. â€Å"Sure†¦but it may be awhile before I can get a break. We'll have to do it and the shoe trip at the same time.† Maddie nodded, face kind and sympathetic. â€Å"No problem. I understand.† More silence fell, and I realized it wasn't the condos that she wanted to talk to me about. That had been a distraction to build up her own courage. â€Å"Maddie, what's going on?† Her cheery look disintegrated into something much more glum. It was startling. I was so used to her always being in a good mood that the thought of something upsetting her was on par with the laws of physics breaking down. She met my eyes and immediately looked away. â€Å"Oh God. I can't believe I'm about to bring this up.† I was seriously worried now. â€Å"You can tell me. It's okay. What's up?† She sighed. â€Å"It's Seth.† Oh, fuck.

“Moon Palace” by Paul Auster Essay

This is the story of Marco Stanley Fogg, an orphan searching for love, his father and the key to the riddle of his origin and fate. Marco’s mother was killed in a car accident when he was eleven years old, and he never knew who was his father. Since then he had lived with his Uncle Victor in a small apartment on 112th Street in N.Y. His Uncle was a part of a band who was named Wally Moon and preformed at the Moon Palace diner. When Stanley grew up he went to the University; Uncle Victor gave him for this occasion a present, one thousand books. Afterwards, his Uncle had suddenly died. Then Stanley’s situation became worse; He saw his money dwindle to zero, he lost the apartment and wound up living in the streets (He slept for three weeks in Central Park without food and with little money). His friends David Zimmer and Kitty Wu had found him and took care of him til he recover from his illness. Staley lived in Zimmer’s house until he had moved away to another apart ment, then Stanley searched for a new place to live and found a job as a live-in companion for an elderly gentleman in a wheelchair. He lived with him for about half year until the gentleman died. His name was Effing Thomas but his real name was Julian Barber. In the past he was a famous painter but he stopped painting after the death of his brother and he changed his name after being considered dead by mistake. Stanley and Effing were very bonded since Effing was like the father Stanley never had. Dear Diary June, 1967 Today I was again in Broadway Street where was Chandler’s Bookstore. I had sold him another box of Uncle Victor’s book. Sure, I had already read them. I know that they were the only memory, which was left from my uncle, buy I need the money to pay the rent and to buy some food and eat. August, 1968 Today I woke up early in the morning and got out to the street. As I was walking I saw that the drugstore had been opened already, I entered and I dropped a penny into the drugstore Exacto scale to see what was happening to me. From 154 in June, I fell to 139 in July and then to 123 in august. For someone who measured slightly over six feet, this began to be dangerously little. August, 1969 Today Fernandez, the owner of the building, threw me out my apartment. I took my knapsack with a few odds and ends, tucked the clarinet case, that Uncle Victor had left to me, and walked out the door†¦ I don’t know what I’ll do, or where do I’ll go†¦ October, 1970 Now I have just finished to type down the life story of Effing on the typewriter that he had gave me. I have copied it from the notes I had taken in those nights when we sat down after supper. Me on the sofa and him in his wheelchair. He had told everything; Why had he changed his name and why did he choose this name (Effing), why did he stop painting, what happened to his wife and to his son. And eventually he told me that when he will die he wants his body to be cremated.

The Novel, And As The Film Unfolds - 898 Words

â€Å"I won t be a carer any more come the end of the year, and though I ve got a lot out of it, I have to admit I ll welcome the chance to rest—to stop and think and remember. I m sure it s at least partly to do with that, to do with preparing for the change of pace, that I ve been getting this urge to order all these old memories† (Ishiguro, 34). Over the course of the novel, and as the film unfolds, the whole story is told in a series of flashbacks as Kathy reencounters her life. Kathy stumbles over every difficult memory as she grapples with her life while trying to gear up for donations. Living in the past may be easier to do rather than digest that her life has reached its peak. She has outlived Helsham, her best friends, and now is alone to watch over the dying and wait for her time to complete. The only way that she can go back and indulge in a time when things were somewhat easier is by reliving her memories. There she can experience her time with Tommy on repe at, and learn to muddle through all the things that she has lost and all that she has left. Kathy balances on the line of experiencing her past and living in it. Although she claims that when her time to complete is upon her she will welcome it and will comfort the rest from her memories, but it seems that she uses the past as a coping mechanism. The past is easier, she lived it, she had a good life and reliving it gives her a distraction from her impending fate. It may have been nostalgia at first but thenShow MoreRelatedJane Is Brave, Humble, Spirited, And Honest With Her Readers1211 Words   |  5 Pagesheroine of a novel, she has everything. From the first pages of Charlotte Bronte’s 1847 book, Jane is brave, humble, spirited, and honest with her readers. She is the character readers fall in love with and believe will succeed as the plot progresses. 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