Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Treasure Nest Tuesday #45: Explaining Sleeping Beauty

Sometimes our friends know us so well it's a delightful shock. I got an email from Alexis Yael last night. Her iPod wouldn't jive with my blog so she couldn' comment, but she guessed I own the Jim poster and the "Chat Noir" poster. I laughed because- yes, of course- I own a poster of the Best Hot Mess Dead Rock Star (co-own, technically. It came with Shane.) But I'd just given the gorgeous black cat poster away mere months ago. So when I replied with my joy in how well she knows me, and that the Sleeping Beauty is the other one I own, Lex responded to her feminist friend, There must be a story there. 

Oh there is. I hope you'll allow a day late Treasure Nest and indulge my narrative narcissism.


The stories of our childhood stay with us, don't they? You know the great, arching, defining story of my girlhood was the myth of Persephone. But you haven't read maybe that there was a hefty Princess obsession, the pinnacle of which was Sleeping Beauty. I think the reason Aurora got my full-on kid squee was the set up. I remember my mom took a girlfriend road trip to NYC (I think?) and they saw Sleeping Beauty on the big screen. She described the movie theatre, and I remember not quite grasping that it wasn't a play- this would have been the '79 re-release; I was three. I was entranced by mom's plot description and was crazy with baby jealousy that I hadn't been there with the grown-up ladies. The movie took on a mystical importance. We must have eventually owned it in our Betamax collection, and I had the sing-along album I wore out on my wee red and white record player.

The Grimms' version came later, and then the A.N Roquelaire Beauty erotica...  Look! A dancing squirrel!

But that isn't The Story.

Here's the real fun:

In 2001, I'm outfitting my little apartment with things like cats, Wiccan house-blessing stuff, and thrift store miscellanea. I'm trolling an antique mall on a whim- I'd never upgraded from thrift to antique. I spotted high on the wall a 1979 Sleeping Beauty movie poster. I go "squee" (only whatever my circa 2000 expression of awesome was) and head to the clerk to buy the $10 poster. When we get back to the poster, a Dad and a toddler girl are checking it out and he's telling her it's hers. I'm seized with a MINE feeling mixed with the very earliest stirring of maternal softness for this babeh. So I say, "Oh... I was... um, it's cool.... she can have it." So the Dad jokes that Little Bit could make some cashola off of this grown-up fangirl. We banter about extortion and stuff...hahaha , it's all so funny but then suddenly I'm actually handing the clerk a ten, the kid another ten, and skipping my happy way out the door.

To summarize: I BOUGHT candy from a baby. Did not steal.

And now the poster resides in the chamber (because princesses have chambers, not bedrooms) of Princess Mollybird, who is an exponentially bigger Aurora fan than her mama.


Win your own custom printed poster or huuuuge photo enlargement- comment at this 'Size Matters' post right over yonder. Oh, I'm so bawdy:)

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