“Jimmy was working with some of the most glamorous women in the world. My constant fear I suppose was that he would find them more attractive than me and have an affair with one of them. A lot of men in Hollywood became involved with their leading ladies. Jimmy was a red-blooded American male so naturally I thought it could happen to him, too. I was convinced it was only a matter of time before the telephone would ring and it would be James telling me that he had to work late at the studio or that he would be out playing poker with the boys. Well, no such call ever came. And I can honestly say that in all the years of our marriage Jimmy never once gave me cause for anxiety or jealousy. The more beautiful and glamorous his leading lady was, the more attention he paid to me. I asked him once why he did that, and he said, ‘Because I want you to never feel anything less than the most special thing in my life”.

Gloria Stewart 

(via gonewiththeoldies)

Philadelphia Day 12

My first full day at school. Okay classes haven’t started yet but I finally slept in my dorm. I’m quite lucky, I’m the only one there right now and I’m just enjoying the quiet while watching my old movies. My bed is sooo comfortable and I have four pillows. Oh yeahh. I put a mattress foam on top of the mattress so that really helps my back because my back has issues.

So I slept well, woke up and went for orientation. Walking back I passed an Art store and I thought ‘hmm let’s get into painting’ (I know right! Just like that). So I bought a beginner’s kit with one brush and a book to paint in. It was very cheap. Plus I got like two discounts on it. Very cool. The woman at the till told me she painted as well and that her stuff is exhibited at a gallery in old city. So I’d check that out soon.

Walked into the activities fair and found out I could take dance classes. Was so excited. But! I found out the classes were too close to the beginning of my Spanish class. And it takes like 15 mins to get there by foot. So I decided I’d take it next semester along with writing. Should be fun!

Yet to make friends. I’m sure I will when classes start. Then I can have a buddy to go exploring with as I signed up for this Photography Scavenger Hunt.

Can’t wait!


Joana Choumali

Hââbre, the last generation

1. Ms. Djeneba : ” I used to like my scars; they were beautiful. We used to brag about them. But, now, in the city, it is definitely out of fashion.”

2. Mrs. Sinou : “I refuse to do it to my children. This will stay on my face only.”

3.Mr. Konabé : “Our parents did this not to get lost in life. When you went somewhere, you could not get lost.”

4. Mr. Lawal : “It is here in town that I am ‘nobody’. In the village, I am a noble; people bow down when they see my face! I am proud of that.”

5. Mr. Salbre : “ I do not want this for my children. We are the last generation “

6. Ms. Martine : “When I was 10 years, I asked for them. I wanted to be like my brothers and sisters, and to show that I am courageous. “ 

7. Mr. Guemi : “I already wear my identity card on my face. This is the reason why people did it : to recognize one another. But now, this is over. We can no more be recognized.”


(via thegoldenpromise)

They say God is an artist.
I believe them.

Marilyn Monroe in 1953 © John Vachon.


Ella Fitzgerald and Louis Armstrong in the recording studio, 1956

"I’m not tough, and I never have been. I suppose over the years I’ve built up kind of a veneer to protect myself because I have functioned on my own for a long, long time, and I have never had a lot of flunkies preceding me to clear the way."

Happy Birthday, Lauren Bacall (16th September, 1924 -  August 12th, 2014)

(via adoreoldstyle)


Mohammed, watching his mom leave to the hospital with his little brother.

Everything about the moment was powerful.

He told her, ‘Show me who you really are Ada. Show me’
He outlined her naked body with his fingertips and traced the outline on her lips.
‘Show me who you are here’, he said as he touched her where her heart was.
‘Not who you are here’, he said as he grazed her crotch.
‘I can’t’, she cried as the tears began to sting. ‘I don’t know who I am anymore.’
She lay there. Naked. Bare. Tears falling sideways from her eyes as Emeka stared at her.

She was a shadow of the girl he grew up with. The girl he had told his mother at six years old he would marry. But time passes and things change and you find yourself running to catch up to the promises you made, the dreams you had. You run and manage to catch some of it but some of the important ones manage to pass through your fingers. Like Ada.

Her father had been murdered and left on the ground to die during an uprising in the village. It was the summer he had gone abroad to study on a scholarship. They had promised each other; letters, phone calls and postcards. He had promised her he would come back for her. And he did. But it was too late.
Her and her mother and packed up to Enugu to stay with an uncle and that was all anyone had known.

Years after, he had found her in a dingy room in the ghetto selling her body to earn a living. Yet as he looked at her, he tried to resurrect the girl he once knew with his eyes. He tried to will her to come out and talk to him. He tried and he failed.

'I'm going to save you Ada', he said as he held her. 'Even if it kills me. I am going to save you.'

— Wonuola Lawal

Carole Lombard

Lauren Bacall and Humphrey Bogart on the set of Confidential Agent (1945)

(via gonewiththeoldies)


Fucking kids care more about each other than we do

(via shortester)