The Young Life of an Old Soul

pleasestopbeingsad:

Street harassment is not a compliment.

I had a man scream at me yesterday for not acknowledging him when he directed a rude comment at me about my appearance, apparently I don’t know how to take “compliments” either

(via revesencouleur)

beben-eleben:

A Daddy’s Letter to His Little Girl (About Her Future Husband)

 Dear Cutie-Pie,

Recently, your mother and I were searching for an answer on Google. Halfway through entering the question, Google returned a list of the most popular searches in the world. Perched at the top of the list was “How to keep him interested.”

It startled me. I scanned several of the countless articles about how to be sexy and sexual, when to bring him a beer versus a sandwich, and the ways to make him feel smart and superior.

And I got angry.

Little One, it is not, has never been, and never will be your job to “keep him interested.”

Little One, your only task is to know deeply in your soul—in that unshakeable place that isn’t rattled by rejection and loss and ego—that you are worthy of interest. (If you can remember that everyone else is worthy of interest also, the battle of your life will be mostly won. But that is a letter for another day.)

If you can trust your worth in this way, you will be attractive in the most important sense of the word: you will attract a boy who is both capable of interest and who wants to spend his one life investing all of his interest in you.

Little One, I want to tell you about the boy who doesn’t need to be kept interested, because he knows you are interesting:

I don’t care if he puts his elbows on the dinner table—as long as he puts his eyes on the way your nose scrunches when you smile. And then can’t stop looking.

I don’t care if he can’t play a bit of golf with me—as long as he can play with the children you give him and revel in all the glorious and frustrating ways they are just like you.

I don’t care if he doesn’t follow his wallet—as long as he follows his heart and it always leads him back to you.

I don’t care if he is strong—as long as he gives you the space to exercise the strength that is in your heart.

I couldn’t care less how he votes—as long as he wakes up every morning and daily elects you to a place of honor in your home and a place of reverence in his heart.

I don’t care about the color of his skin—as long as he paints the canvas of your lives with brushstrokes of patience, and sacrifice, and vulnerability, and tenderness.

I don’t care if he was raised in this religion or that religion or no religion—as long as he was raised to value the sacred and to know every moment of life, and every moment of life with you, is deeply sacred.

In the end, Little One, if you stumble across a man like that and he and I have nothing else in common, we will have the most important thing in common:

You.

Because in the end, Little One, the only thing you should have to do to “keep him interested” is to be you.

Your eternally interested guy,

Daddy

(Source: followandreblog, via revesencouleur)

He was totally unflappable… “Couldn’t phase him” as they say. Because once I went to a party at the Bogart’s house and Humphrey was in Africa, I think, making a film with John Huston. I think the African Queen but I’m not entirely certain…  Whatever it was, he wasn’t there… And I had dinner with Betty Bogart, she was then known Betty Bacall, Lauren Bacall, and my wife Sybil and Emlyn Williams.. and perhaps twenty other people. And I became absolutely paralyzed with drink, absolutely fractured. And I finally passed out and they put me on a settee and abandoned me. So Emlyn went home with Sibyl and I was left, the party finally disintegrated… And I woke in the morning [and] standing there was one of the biggest gossips in Hollywood. …There I was at, shall we say, 9:30 in the morning, Bogie being in Sicily or Africa, Betty being upstairs, there I was. What was i doing there? So naturally the word spread around from this lady and the columnists picked it up… I said to Lauren Bacall “You better write to Bogie and explain that I did it again” or something like that… So anyway, it dissolved as they say in the business and  I was in London and Humphrey Bogart had come back from wherever he was and they were all staying at the Dorchester and Lauren Bacall was there as well. And so I went to meet Bogie… Lauren Bacall can be very wicked, said “Get into his pajamas”… So she got his pajamas out and I got into Bogie’s pajamas and I was sitting there..  And Bogie came home from work and he passed me, he said “Hi kid”, went into the next room. I felt such a fool he hadn’t said anything. Bogie came back in - a joke has never fallen flatter in all its life. And finally I had to say, “Bogie I’m wearing your pajamas” and he said “Ah, so you are kid. Take ‘em off”.
Richard Burton

(Source: gregorypecks)

vintagechampagnefever:

Anchors Aweigh (1945)

so30s:

Beach fashion, 1933

hipstertedbundy:

The works of F. Scott Fitzgerald.

sharontates:

Laurence Olivier and Vivien Leigh in their theatre production of Romeo and Juliet (1940)

(Source: vintagecatsandpeople)