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"Ah! böwakawa poussé, poussé"
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An amateur analysis of a fetish
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This ism that ism, ism, ism,
ism
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Imagine Dr Freud and me, having tea on the verandah, and we talk about how I came to be Electra.......
Moi: I was young?
Dr Freud: How young?
Moi: Well, it was a long time ago. It's not polite to ask a lady how old she is.
Dr Freud: What did you see?
Moi: A magazine. Don't know how I got hold of it. Maybe I stole it. I
stole a lot when I was young, but only things I desperately wanted and
could not obtain legally.
Dr Freud: Well - it looks like he stole your heart, fair trade. Was it
a music magazine?
Moi: Yes. There was a face on the cover. Well......there were 4 faces,
but I only had eyes for one of them.
Dr Freud: You liked that face?
Moi: Oh it was more than like. It was as if I had been born
only to look at that face. Like nothing else existed anymore.
Dr Freud: Do you still have that magazine?
Moi: Yes. I'm a pack rat. I keep everything. Well. I carried it with me
everywhere. Got me into trouble at school. So, I told myself "Hey,
you've got to hide your love away". (Laughs). It became an obsession, very, very
private. Oh, but that face..........
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Dr Freud: Quite an ordinary face
really, what was special about it
to you?
Moi: It seemed right. Familiar? Maybe a face I knew from a previous
life, or that reminded me of someone. This is the question I can't
answer. There were other pictures of course, dozens
of them. Wonderful pictures of that beautiful face. Not conventionally
beautiful, you know? Quirky even. But, oh that face.......
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Steel and Glass
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Dr Freud: But this picture, it's an early one. 1965 you say?
Moi: Yes, but then there came the others. One day, in another magazine
there was this one.
Dr
Freud: Ah! You weren't expecting that?
Moi: No, and I can't explain my reaction. It was very odd.
Dr Freud: We call it association.
Moi: The opposite of aversion therapy, yes, I understand. Keep
associating something with an existing passion and the two become
inextricably connected. Well, it makes sense,
but I think there was more to it than that. Still, I love that profile.
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Whatever Gets You Through the Night
Dr Freud: You loved him all the time you were growing up?
Moi: Yes. And then........he went away. I walked into work one frosty
morning, normal day, not a care in the world and they told me he was
dead.
 December
8th 1980, the day I'll never forget.
Dr Freud: Came as a bit of a shock?
Moi: I went into a sort of stupor. I didn't speak to anyone. I didn't
eat. Took a long time.
Dr Freud: But you had a partner by now? Did you choose a lookalike?
Moi: You have to understand, I hadfound
semi-lookalikes. Several of
them. None of them made me happy, well, one.....but......it wasn't to
be......anyway. You have to understand it was never actually Lennon
that I sought. I may have fallen in love with his face, but it was only
because he reminded me of someone. Someone very perfect. Someone
familiar, who I didn't know. I dreamt of him. Not often...but when I
did he was always the same age as me, which of course Lennon wasn't. I
had, in my head - in my subconscious, a man who I knew so very, very
well. As a child in my dreams we played together. As I got older, so
did he. It was almost Spiritual. These rare dreams were like breaking
through a veil into
another world, an alternate universe. And once, when we were still
quite young, he told me "when we meet you'll know me". And it wasn't
said, but implied (I knew) he was talking about the real world, the
waking world, and he meant I'd know him because of his glasses. There
it is. On waking it seemed ridiculous of course. Illogical. And so I
tucked
Perfect Man away in
my dreams.
Dr Freud: A good thing?
Moi: A necessary thing.
So long ago.
Was it in a dream?
Was it just a dream?
I know, yes I
know.
It seemed so very real,
seemed so real to me.
Took a walk
down the street.
Through the heat whispered trees.
I thought I could
hear.
Hear.
Hear.
Hear.
Somebody call out my name (John)
as it started to rain.
Two spirits dancing so strange...
Ah!
Bowakawa, pousse pousse
Ah! Bowakawa, pousse pousse
Ah! Bowakawa, pousse
pousse
Dream, dream away.
Magic in the air.
Was magic in the
air?
I believe, yes I believe.
More I cannot say.
What more can I
say?
On a river of sound.
Through the mirror go round, round.
I
thought I could feel.
Feel.
Feel.
Feel.
Music touching my soul.
Something warm, sudden cold.
The spirit dance was unfolding...
Ah!
Bowakawa, pousse pousse
Ah! Bowakawa, pousse pousse
Ah! Bowakawa, pousse
pousse
Ah! Bowakawa, pousse pousse
Ah! Bowakawa, pousse pousse
Ah!
Bowakawa, pousse pousse
Dr Freud: So we are only talking about your fantasies?
Moi: Oh yes, I keep them separate. They're more precious that way.
Dr Freud: But, there were real live men that were almost him. Tell me about the one that made you happy.
Moi: Ah, that's a strange tale. It was a "Blind Date". I'd never agreed to one of those before, I was quite reluctant.
Dr Freud: Relying on someone else's idea of suitable?
Moi: Suitable had never even entered my head. But I'd simply had enough
of a string of disastrous dates, I wouldn't even go as far as calling
them one-night stands, they always ended early. I was always searching
for that face. Only ever dating guys who wore glasses, never
considering other factors.
Dr Freud: Did the friend who set you up know about your....preference?
Moi: I don't know. I think a few people guessed. I never talked about
it. I was ashamed to be open in case they thought I was really strange.
Dr Freud: (laughing) There are MANY stranger things to have preferences for!
Moi: I know that now. But I was young, and trying, desperately, to fit
in, as you do at that age, while coping with an obsession. It was
always there.
Dr Freud: Was it sexual?
Moi: I don't think so, not then. Not until later.
Dr Freud: Do you want to tell me about that?
Moi: Yes, but there's more to this first.
Dr Freud: OK, so the man your friend set you up with?
Moi: No, no glasses. And he was very dark. Sultry even. But average
height and stocky, he reminded me of a raven. Not my usual choice, but
his profile was almost perfect. I surprised myself.
Dr Freud: Oh! Handsome?
Moi: Exquisitely. I remember my friend winking at me, like she could
see it in my face, like she thought she'd just drawn the winning
lottery numbers for me.
Dr Freud: Did you find yourself attracted to him?
Moi: Yes, and it felt wrong. I felt like a fraud. Like I was cheating on Perfect Man.
Dr Freud: Who you were still searching for.
Moi: I really think I was. I really think I still am.
Dr Freud: Did you cast this one aside for being "wrong"?
Moi: Well, we dated, quite some time really. He lived a long way - we
didn't get to see each other very often. I could have made a success of
that relationship. I could have married him, I'm sure of it. But I blew
it.
Dr Freud: Just not quite right?
Moi: So close and yet so far. I went to a party nearer home, different
circle of friends, met another man who was in a band - a drummer.
That's always appealing. Very different. Tall, blond, slim.
Dr Freud: But.........no glasses, I'm thinking.
Moi: No, but it was obvious he needed them. He squinted at everything. It was divine.
Dr Freud: That was good enough?
Moi: It was enough for me to decide to say goodbye to my raven.
Dr Freud: Ah......
Moi: I saw him one last time, I didn't want to hurt him. He was very
keen on me, and I really did like him very much, so I told him it was
all about geography, and that we'd stay in touch forever.
Dr Freud: I expect he knew what that meant!
Moi: No, I meant it. I kept my word. We are still in contact, all these years later. That's how I know.
Dr Freud: He wears glasses now? Well, he's practically middle-aged.....
Moi: Oh no. After I'd said my goodbyes, and wrecked my chances, after
the point of no return, after we'd vowed to stay friends forever, after
we'd cried, and laughed, and were just talking in the car, after he
admitted he had someone else just come into his life too.........he
said "You know, I think I need glasses"
Dr Freud: OH! What did you say?
Moi: Nothing. No words came out. Just a strangled feeling. I couldn't
breath. I felt numb. No tears. Just a big empty feeling, as if
something had gone from inside. I walked away. I waved goodbye. I never
saw him again.
Dr Freud: But you say you are still in touch?
Moi: No, no, I said we stayed in contact. Only ever letters and phone
calls. No "touch". I haven't seen him. I don't want to......
Dr Freud: Ah, I see.
Moi: There really was someone new in his life, it wasn't just a line. He married her. It didn't last.
Dr Freud: And you still wonder "What if"?
Moi: Yes, and so does he. He has said so recently.
Dr Freud: Still hope?
Moi: No, he is happily re-married, with a baby. That book is closed.
Dr Freud: I don't think you've told me the final chapter.
Moi: No, that's right! Well, I'm sure you guessed. He started wearing
glasses just a few weeks after we broke up. Talk about a near miss.
Dr Freud: And your new boyfriend?
Moi: Was very boring. It lasted 3 weeks.
Dr Freud: Oh dear.
Moi: Yes, well, life is full of forks in the road like that. I bounced
back, in full rebound mode. I spilt with the bore and just days later
his friend phoned me, and identified himself from the party as "the one
with the glasses". I couldn't even remember him, but I went for it. I
think I was past caring at that point.
Dr Freud: Handsome?
Moi: In the dark. He resembled a young Robin Williams. Huh. Quirky
enough to appeal to me on one level. Our first date started very
awkwardly, he was rather serious, but we had a shared interest in
motorcycles, so gradually I warmed to him. By the end of the evening I
was enjoying his company and had got past him not really being "my
type". And then he kissed me.
Dr Freud: Ah! A date that didn't end early!
Moi: It was a lot more than that. Oh, I had slept with some of the others,
I'd had some luck! But this was my first real kiss with a guy in
glasses.
Dr Freud: And exactly how is that different? Other than psychologically.
Moi: Because they touch your cheek. The metal against my skin.
Dr Freud: OK, I see.
Moi: It wasn't anything to him of course, just a "see you again soon" sort of kiss, although obviously, I meant it.
Dr Freud: And the next time?
Moi: I wasted no time. I went to his place and virtually dragged him into bed. He didn't complain!
Dr Freud: Your first sex with a man in glasses then.
Moi: He was about to take them off, but I stopped him. Again, he didn't argue!
Dr Freud: I can well imagine.
Moi: Every movement I made (and I made most of them) I tried to make
sure his glasses touched me. And we made love often, and it was always
the same.
Dr Freud: Sounds like success to me.
Moi: But that was all we had really. We ran out of things to talk
about, argued a lot over his friends, and finally I realised it wasn't
worth it. And - I was using him. That's wrong.
Dr Freud: Not often I hear that from a woman!
Moi: But it's true. I had objectified him. We parted ways.
Dr Freud: Is there a happy ending to this my dear?
Moi: No. No, many years have passed.
Dr Freud: I think we need more tea........
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Next.....The Manacles of Freedom
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