Saturday, March 03, 2007

Courtesans


What a lovely word. Evoking a woman so gorgeous that kings would give up their thrones. Wallis Simpson comes to mind. Madame Bouvary. Lillie Langtry. I was reminded of the word when I saw a picture of Victoria Beckham on the arm of her husband. These days it's a lot of work to be a successful courtesan. Victoria's breasts look like they are breastfeeding two bald headed midgets simultaneously. Guarded by a white picket satin fence. Her expression matches the supposition. And only she knows how often the surgeon's knife has inflated or deflated these mammaries. I ponder on the men who cop a feel of these sturdy units. They do not budge. Nailed to the rib cage, they stand erect even when she is horizontal. A man once told me he always knew the revolting feel of silicon and became instantly flaccid. And thought-shift, these over perked plastics could not perform their biological purpose of feeding an infant, could they?

Thoughts go to another famous courtesan. The Anna Nicole. Nailing herself a nonagenarian, billionaire wealthy of course. Courtesans are only for the wealthy (and sometimes for the huddled masses, see below) and are much admired and envied by the knuckle dragging portion of our society. (Question posed to Grade 8 students - both male and female - as to what they wanted to be when they grew up, answer: Famous).

You don't have to do anything you see, if you're an Anna Nicole or a Wallis or a Victoria. In the old days, skills were acquired in the Orient. Today, you just double d your breast size with the the help of a little money-grubbing plastic surgeon and reel in the catch. And sometimes, like Paris Hilton, you become a born-into-wealth courtesan to the afore-mentioned masses. The adulation of a mindless mannequin.

There is no one quite like the Christine Keeler of the sixties who brought down a government. And the art of good conversation evades our present day wannabes. One cringes to hear them interviewed on any topic. Unlike Marilyn Monroe, they will not be caught with a book or the hornrims with which to read it.

My all time favourite of this era is Camilla. For well over thirty years she kept the boy who will not be king entertained, flattered, sexed and nuzzling on her - real - breasts. And envying her tampax.

Now there's a courtesan.

1 comment:

  1. What a brilliantly-written piece, saying much of what I think - though I would not have identified them as courtesans. 'Tabloid tarts' is my take on them (bar Camilla, whom I have a lot of respect for).

    ReplyDelete

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