I saw a local showing of The Maltese Falcon tonight. I couldn’t get over how much everyone smoked back in 1941 (holy shit) & how cool Bogey was. The man oozes coolness. He stayed completely calm & in control. His three-piece suits fit him like a glove & his pinstripes were perfectly straight. He wore his overcoat & fedora with confidence. He lit up his rolled cigarette knowing he was the baddest motherfucker around.
God, how do I get that kind of confidence?
I know, I know. He was an actor. And his dramatic skills were, well… A little bit like this guy 😉
BUT STILL!
I found myself envious of how he was unaffected by his emotions. He was more cold & logical. The women were falling all over for him (my inner feminist gags at that) & the men couldn’t beat him. And that was oddly intriguing me. I wanted to be like him, minus the bad cigarette habit. Gimme the pulled together, badass version of SC. The one who doesn’t give a fuck but isn’t a dick about it either.
Ahh!
So cool.
finding my truth 