Category Archives: Lifestyle

Run Baby Run

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Sorry, everyone. I know it’s been ages, but I’ve been very busy in the last three weeks or so. First of all, I have been working shifts at unsociable hours which have left me tired-eyed and sleep-deprived. Don’t get me wrong, I love my job, and shifts can be useful if you have stuff to do during the day, normally. But when you struggle to get to sleep at night and then you’re up before the sun rises, believe me, you do feel the exhaustion.

Another reason why I have been somewhat absent from your dearest minds (but surely not hearts), is that I did a little stint in Lisbon, taking pictures, visiting castles (or the outside of) going to the beach (jealous yet?) and window shopping. Fear not, I am already planning two different posts about it.

Last but not least, the final reason why my blog has been quite quiet of late is because I have been training for my 5K Big Fun Run which will take place in Victoria Park on 2 October. Oh yes I have! I have been eating very healthily – excluding of course my birthday weekend! I have also been running fairly regularly and currently can run for half an hour non-stop, non-walk in Hackney Downs.

(Photo source: http://www.gthc.org.uk/fundraising/?event_id=45156)

Despite being tiny, Hackney Downs is a great park to train in, as it has flat parts and steep uphills and downhills. Some of its corners are nice and cool as they remain in the shade most of the time because of big trees whereas other parts are very open and generally sunny (if and when the British weather graces us). It is just around the corner from my little flat and, apart from the occasional crack-indulging happy neighbour smoking away on the bench, it’s perfect. Mind you, I haven’t done 5 full kilometres yet, but last year I didn’t even train at all and managed to run it all because the people and general buzz were great and very encouraging, so I trust I shouldn’t have any major problem this year (touching wood).

(Photo source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Politics_of_Hackney)

The charity I’m running for is Children with Cancer. I chose it because many years ago my family lost a child to Leukaemia so I decided I’d help as much as I can for other families, now and in the future, not having to experience the same loss. I would be very grateful if you decided to support me in this rather challenging(!) undertake, I’m sure everyone realises how important this cause is. My fundraising page is http://uk.virginmoneygiving.com/ManuelaCalascibetta, make sure you select the page on the left as the one on the right was last year’s. Thank you.

(Photo source: http://scottishrunningguide.com/news.php/500/big_fun_runs_kick_off_this_weekend/full)

I shall be back soon with new posts!

The Skin I Live in, by Pedro Almodóvar

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Pedro Almodóvar’s latest film, The Skin I Live In (La piel que habito) is a fine, elegant horror “without any blood”, as the director himself defines it. The plot, loosely based on Thierry Jonquet’s novel Mygale, tells the story of plastic surgeon Robert Ledgard, who is looking for revenge whilst also developing a new type of pain-, fire- and mosquito-resistant skin. In the story, Robert’s wife passes away after a terrible car crash that burnt her whole body, which is the main reason why he embarks in his new skin studies. Parallel to that, the audience is shown that the surgeon’s estate/plastic surgery clinic is also a prison for young patient Vera Cruz. As the story unravels through a compelling (if somewhat unsettling) series of flashbacks, typical of Almodóvar’s style, the viewer discovers the horrifying plot, tassel by tassel. The main topics of this work being grief and cold-blooded vendetta, The Skin I live In digs into the main characters’ backgrounds, psyche and dysfunctional behaviours, to the point of guiding the audience into their psyche to deeply understand (although not agree with!) their actions.

(Picture source: http://uk.movies.ign.com)

All the classic Almodóvar themes can be found in his latest venture: in this film hospitals play an important part representing a reassuring prison; the wealth and opulent residence and belongings of the characters, who generally have mental issues, the unconventional domesticity and the dramatic staircase scenes are also to be counted among those reoccurring patterns, present in the movie, that the director chooses to use regularly. Betrayal, the exploration of male desire, dark comedy paired to tragedy and a clinical, unapologetic approach and critic to delicate social issues are other main themes chosen to be part of this masterpiece.

(Picture source: http://uk.movies.ign.com)

Almodóvar plays very cleverly with our minds just like Robert plays with Vera’s by adding several motifs throughout the film’s 117 minutes. The scene where Vincente, a shop assistant, dresses a mannequin sexualising the object is mirrored by the same character, later on in the story, having an encounter with a girl whom he treats like an objectified prey. The theme of clothing and, more in general, cloth, is also very strong and symbolises something merely disposable – both skin and clothes, in fact, are cut in small parts or placed together like patchwork. The way Robert moulds his victim’s body is also represented by the way the victim creates gauze-covered sculptures. The victim owns the sculpture and is owned by Robert.

(Picture source: http://uk.movies.ign.com)

Unfortunately, the subtlety of the original title’s word play was lost in translation. Despite the awkward sound of the phrase ‘the skin I inhabit’, I think this would have been a better translation for the title. The original Spanish title sounds also unnatural, and the word ‘inhabit’ holds in itself the word ‘habit’, which reminds us of clothes and material, very important elements of the film, as we have discussed. Moreover, ‘inhabit’ gives an even stronger sense of distance. The character does not live in their own skin, but rather, in someone else’s skin and, as an extent, someone else’s image and identity. This word makes us understand that the person who inhabits that skin takes on the given role like a played character, wears it as a uniform and ultimately decides to move from victim to conscious and active betrayer, with a final scope in mind.Marilia, Robert’s servant, also wears a uniform, and when she returns to work for him after years, she is happy to wear it again. This shows us how the surgeon has a great captivating power on people and just how happy they are to preserve normality and adhere to their subdued, subjugated roles.

(Picture source: http://uk.movies.ign.com)

Much importance was given to the clothes during the planning and production stages, so much so that Jean-Paul Gaultier worked side by side with the film’s costume designer, Paco Delgado. The choice couldn’t have been more appropriate, with the fashion designer’s clean and minimal lines. The zips and the cut-out, circular breast seams add a kinky theme to it all, which perfectly suits the tone and motifs of the movie.

In a few words, Almodóvar’s wonderful latest work can be described as horror comedy, dark, unconventional, fetishistic, funnily awkward, straight to the point, technically perfect and definitely unexpected. I strongly recommend you go and see it, you will not regret it!

The Baby Dilemma: Why I Don’t Feel Selfish for not Wanting a Baby

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From an early age, girls are encouraged to play with dolls; they are given the impression that they can be whatever they want to be, from business women to teachers to actors, but ultimately, their role will be to procreate. And so most girls grow with this idea in mind that, one day, they’ll give birth.

By gradually approaching the average birth-giving age, however, women develop their own ideas about it. Personally, I am terrified by the idea of having a child. I have serious doubts about the topic and am ready to bet that most women have, too.

My feelings towards this issue have changed through the years. In my late teens and early twenties I thought I was going to finish my university course, find a man and start a family. But when my course ended I realised I felt too young and thought it would’ve been a waste to work on my education without putting it to good use after. Time passed. I found myself one of those boyfriends your parents like. He bought us a house with a spare room for the dreaded creature, but the relationship didn’t work out and after over three years we broke up.

A mini crisis ensued when, at the seemingly geriatric age of 26, I was stopped in the middle of my development towards the happy family ideal I had in mind. At that point I seriously thought I was going to end up sad and alone, in a filthy flat full of cats, with knots in my hair the size of a ball of yarn. That was it, I had missed the boat. All of the motherly women I knew had already had children by the time they were my age, and I was left stranded.

Picture source: http://www.fempop.com/2011/06/24/prime-gossip-britneys-new-vid-chris-brown-is-the-worst-and-jennifer-aniston-is-a-hypocrite/

This made me wonder why it was apparently of such pivotal importance to me to have children. Was it to feel safe in the knowledge that I had a future insurance, someone to look after me and cook me a roast for Christmas? Or the need to feel needed, which would feed into my shaky self-esteem? Or a way to secure myself something of my own and a sense of belonging? Suddenly, I stepped back and woke up to the fact that pregnancy is extremely harsh on the body, to say the least. It brings with it a magnitude of health issues, affects your veins, back, skin, heart, digestion, even your teeth. And need I delve into the revolting list of labour-related facts? I think we all have heard more horror stories about this topic than we can stomach.

I suspected this last change in attitude on my side might be due to the disillusionment I had from the failure of my previous relationship, so I decided to ask around to girls who are roughly my age. My colleague Sara told me how she and her husband looked after their five-year-old niece for a weekend. All she got from it was not the warm and fuzzy feeling of tenderness only a child can give you. No. She only got a boring time, and nits. Needless to say that she now does not want any children at all. My flatmate Lauren pointed out that children might be sweet, but (and this has to be one of the most uttered sentences of all times) only when they’re someone else’s so you can give them back. To that she added “Why would I waste my efforts trying to keep trim by then getting fat for a baby?” The last girl I asked was Elena, who reported how much of an uncivilised affair family dinners are at her sister’s house, with food negotiations with the kids worth a final try by the Head of State. She doesn’t feel ready to give up her romantic holidays and having to spend her hard-earned money on someone who’s hardly going to be grateful.

Statistics tell us that the average age for a woman to have her first child is rising exponentially, and I think this is because women are trying to buy themselves some time to make sure they make the right decision, and not hurry into having children “quick, before it’s late o’clock!”. I have to say this is reassuring as, at the moment, I am currently far from sacrificing my freedom, health, independence and fun-and-impromptu nights out for another human being. I still think that motherhood and I will make peace again at some point, but for now, I’m happy I don’t have to.

The Baby Dilemma: Why I Don’t Feel Selfish for not Wanting a Baby

Posted on by
Reply

From an early age, girls are encouraged to play with dolls; they are given the impression that they can be whatever they want to be, from business women to teachers to actors, but ultimately, their role will be to procreate. And so most girls grow with this idea in mind that, one day, they’ll give birth.

By gradually approaching the average birth-giving age, however, women develop their own ideas about it. Personally, I am terrified by the idea of having a child. I have serious doubts about the topic and am ready to bet that most women have, too.

My feelings towards this issue have changed through the years. In my late teens and early twenties I thought I was going to finish my university course, find a man and start a family. But when my course ended I realised I felt too young and thought it would’ve been a waste to work on my education without putting it to good use after. Time passed. I found myself one of those boyfriends your parents like. He bought us a house with a spare room for the dreaded creature, but the relationship didn’t work out and after over three years we broke up.

A mini crisis ensued when, at the seemingly geriatric age of 26, I was stopped in the middle of my development towards the happy family ideal I had in mind. At that point I seriously thought I was going to end up sad and alone, in a filthy flat full of cats, with knots in my hair the size of a ball of yarn. That was it, I had missed the boat. All of the motherly women I knew had already had children by the time they were my age, and I was left stranded.

Picture source: http://www.fempop.com/2011/06/24/prime-gossip-britneys-new-vid-chris-brown-is-the-worst-and-jennifer-aniston-is-a-hypocrite/

This made me wonder why it was apparently of such pivotal importance to me to have children. Was it to feel safe in the knowledge that I had a future insurance, someone to look after me and cook me a roast for Christmas? Or the need to feel needed, which would feed into my shaky self-esteem? Or a way to secure myself something of my own and a sense of belonging? Suddenly, I stepped back and woke up to the fact that pregnancy is extremely harsh on the body, to say the least. It brings with it a magnitude of health issues, affects your veins, back, skin, heart, digestion, even your teeth. And need I delve into the revolting list of labour-related facts? I think we all have heard more horror stories about this topic than we can stomach.

I suspected this last change in attitude on my side might be due to the disillusionment I had from the failure of my previous relationship, so I decided to ask around to girls who are roughly my age. My colleague Sara told me how she and her husband looked after their five-year-old niece for a weekend. All she got from it was not the warm and fuzzy feeling of tenderness only a child can give you. No. She only got a boring time, and nits. Needless to say that she now does not want any children at all. My flatmate Lauren pointed out that children might be sweet, but (and this has to be one of the most uttered sentences of all times) only when they’re someone else’s so you can give them back. To that she added “Why would I waste my efforts trying to keep trim by then getting fat for a baby?” The last girl I asked was Elena, who reported how much of an uncivilised affair family dinners are at her sister’s house, with food negotiations with the kids worth a final try by the Head of State. She doesn’t feel ready to give up her romantic holidays and having to spend her hard-earned money on someone who’s hardly going to be grateful.

Statistics tell us that the average age for a woman to have her first child is rising exponentially, and I think this is because women are trying to buy themselves some time to make sure they make the right decision, and not hurry into having children “quick, before it’s late o’clock!”. I have to say this is reassuring as, at the moment, I am currently far from sacrificing my freedom, health, independence and fun-and-impromptu nights out for another human being. I still think that motherhood and I will make peace again at some point, but for now, I’m happy I don’t have to.