Or so it seems. Sometimes the oddest things will catch the photographic eye. Like the occasions I need to hang my clothes on the clothes airer on the verandah, just because it looks like rain. Like today. Yes, I wear purple and yes, it is a nod to my feminist life. It just never seems quite so apparent until days like today when the clothes are all lined up.
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| Variations on a theme of purple 1 |
I don't really need to practice. I've been surrounded by purple for as long as I can remember. My childhood room was in hues of mauve and purple; my stationery tends to be purple; a number of the flowers in the garden, just happen to bloom...purple; and conveniently, purple is the colour of my union.
So really, I shan't wait until I'm old(er), my purple is now...
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| Variation on Variations on a theme of purple 1 |
Warning 1961
When I am an old woman I shall wear purple
With a red hat which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we've no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick flowers in other people's gardens
And learn to spit.
You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go
Or only bread and pickle for a week
And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes.
But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
And pay our rent and not swear in the street
And set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.
But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.
With a red hat which doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we've no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I'm tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick flowers in other people's gardens
And learn to spit.
You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go
Or only bread and pickle for a week
And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes.
But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
And pay our rent and not swear in the street
And set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.
But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.
Jenny Joseph
[Camera : iPhone 4S, 3.24pm, 3.25pm]
