Hamburg, Hotel Berlin, December 9, 1995

The big event or 10 minutes of my day today: There were 5 to 6 women in the store trying stuff like garders bras nightgowns and telling about their affairs, their relationships, jalousie, problems. I kept very quiet. I thought by myself if I was a writer and would write fiction I would go to those places get part of my inspiration through them, starting with describing and analyzing peoples personality and behavior, trying to analyze their motivation being so absorbed for moments in those things. It was really fun to watch and being in the middle of this madhouse. The heated atmosphere got almost out of control when a man walked in. mistresses: He in his fifties, gray haired, glasses, looked like some of these bookkeepers, investment bankers, not particularly attractive, sexy or anything, but simple and normal. I probably would never recognize him again, because he just looked so usual. I was curious what he would buy, so I tried to carefully look over his snowy shoulders, and not to be too obvious about being so nosy. I always thought this is just be a nice film clichˇ idea, but while I was there three men like this came in and bought lingerie. Apparently, according to what I understood from the owner, most of the men are regular customers. Very few show very good taste, but some of them come every week buying some weird negligees, some of them even the same in different sizes. The first man bought the shirest. An organza dark blue bras, with the fitting slip (if you can call it a slip, it was more of a strip of organza with a little lace). He blushed a little when I was looking around showing Bev a really sweet black bras with the most beautiful lace. He also got I think those shishi shoes for "her" those which have little fer or feathers on the top. He paid cash (I sometimes would love to be a detective) which made me think he must buy it for "someone else." I pictured him being in bed with his wife, really not getting a kick out of her anymore, him sitting at breakfast with his wife and children. He just wouldn't dare to tell his wife, who knows him for such a long time, his secret fantasies. How much he wanted to take her in one of those shire pieces of underwear, her leaning over the breakfast table making her come, while the children get ready to go to school. Instead of going to work I pictured him going to his lover, a sex crazed women uptown, hiding this piece of underwear in his black business case in a white envelop.... Anyway after he left all of us were back in the conversation were we stopped. I felt like a voyeur. I didn't have much to contribute. So they continued about the flirtatiousness of their boyfriends towards other women, about them getting really mad and jalous when their boyfriend looks at someone else... About the beauty of this piece and about the ugliness of parts of their body, their hips that are too strong and their breasts that are too small. A woman even wanted to discuss her tan away. I am not tan you are tan... philosophy or motivation: What makes some of us women so addicted to certain things in the fashion world? I sort of can't stop analyzing it because I wish I had a recipe to turn this energy into a passion for the arts. Is it to show what you like best of you even better and to make disappear the parts that you don't like as much, through pronouncing the other parts? Do women consider themselves subconsciously as art-objects. The thing is though it does not make you a hure if you were what fits you or what you like, its just not good if you wear things against your own will. Is it a sort of dope for your head to make you enjoy your body more, by displaying your best parts in different ways to get a kick out of your body, to meet yourself in a different version through a different wrapping. Do you get to know parts of you better or even get to know who you are... in a sensual sense? It seemed pretty clear to me that we all reflected ourselves in each other at this moment. An exploration or investigation how we attract, what kind of impression we have and give onto each other. We all felt less guilt because we saw others sharing our passion. The first impression might be for a lot of men that we wear things to please them, but it seems to me if this is stated that it is just an excuse... heels: heels for example. high heels are the best example to solve a pedestal problem. It makes you display butt and bosom through simply the form that your body has to take in order to be able to stand on heels. Your back is pressed in straight position, you ass sticks out a little and you breasts stick out in the other direction. It is neither very comfortable to walk like this nor very healthy. How come so many women do it anyhow and with growing pleasure. Me included. Are we doing it for ourselves in order to turn physical, to turn into the object that is been seen, displayed loved adored admired desired. It makes us loosing our minds a little easier because we keep our "thought-lines" in our brain occupied or busy with superficialities and sensual pleasure. Like this doubts and insecurity cannot get through so easily. Its science about your own body the pleasure of discovering who you are and how you are seen by someone else... This "how-do-I-find-my-type-thing". It is funny that you use this expression to express the search for your physical appearance, while it could also mean just how do I find who is my type of partner instead of how do I want to be. If you can't find out who you are , you will probably never find the right partner either. And then there is this load of the past that we have to fight and carry out. There is this pressure of our mothers and sisters, and our own: to be attractive, to be the showcase... Generations of men keep women as decoration, part of the decoration is also a little odeur of intellectuality. The seventies and the clear statements that all this women's stuff is not for a liberated women, that these are symbols of suppression, should make you feel like someone less valid, an object, as you stage your body up. We should just try to investigate what makes us wear what. If its clear that it's us it cant be bad for us. Anyway I just loved when the owner of the store said about a nightgown that she was showing to us... "You can hide a multitude of sins in it".