In Vibrant Color

The Exhibit In Vibrant Color: Vintage Celebrity Portraits from the Harry Warnecke Studio just opened up at the National Portrait Gallery a few weeks ago. This is a collection of color portraits the photographer did for the Sunday News magazine utilizing the one-shot camera he designed himself. There are 24 pieces on display spanning the ‘30’s through the ‘50’s featuring classic loves such as Gene Autry and Lucille Ball. Sounds amazing, right? I certainly thought so. However, many reviews I read on this exhibit have had unkind words to say. Many of the criticisms were of seeing these famous faces we’re used to seeing in black and white prominently in color. I suppose they felt like some of the magic was lost as though seeing a mascot character backstage without his head on. But being from an entertainment background, I wasn’t bothered at all. On the contrary, I found the images I saw to be a rare look into the real, unique souls of these wonderful people that shaped our world. In a small way, it was like the moment you stop seeing your parent as just being your parent and start seeing them as a person, too.

http://www.npg.si.edu/exhibit/exhwarnecke.html
http://www.nytimes.com/slideshow/2012/03/14/arts/design/13PORTRAIT.html

Review By: Pepper & Mary Mint * The Mint Chocolate Chippies
www.mintchocolatechippies.com

Smash is…well, a smash hit!

Brilliant. That is the one word I can use to describe the newest musical drama Smash on NBC. Simply brilliant.

I took the time last night to watch the first episode of Smash using my “On Demand” feature on the DVR. I had no desire to watch it, even though I should have. The advertisements just weren’t luring me in. I, quite frankly, chose to watch it because I was cleaning and needed something on in the background. Once it started, I was slowly & seductively drawn in.

Now, before I go into details, you are probably wondering what this has to do with our theme on BoudoirBomshells.com …right? I’m getting there, trust me.

The Broadway show that Julia (Debra Messing) creates is based on the life of Marilyn Monroe. Once this was brought up, I was very skeptical and thought that the show was just trying to pull in viewers because everything lately has been Marilyn centered. Debra Messing’s character kept me watching because of one quote. As her character was arguing with her husband about wanting to be creatively involved in the production of the show, she said “You know what she [Marilyn] said in her last interview? ‘Please don’t make a joke out of me.’ There was something about her…how much she wanted to love and be loved.” Yes, that was the moment I stopped kind of paying attention and devoted all my focus to the program.

The songs are genius. The baseball song entitled “The National Pastime” is cute and the choreography is visually stunning. “Never Give All the Heart” is a beautiful ballad about Marilyn Monroe that is sung by the vocally breathtaking Ivy Lynn (played by Megan Hilty). Let’s not forget the modern songs though that are thrown into the mix. Karen Cartwright (Katharine McPhee) belts out a mind-blowing version of Christina Aguilera’s “Beautiful” in the first episode.

I cannot wait for the next episode of Smash to watch these two lovely ladies (Ivy & Karen) compete against each other for the lead role as Marilyn in the new Broadway production. This show is a “home run” and I recommend anyone who is in the least bit infatuated with Marilyn Monroe tune in!

Review By: Mary & Pepper Mint * The Mint Chocolate Chippies
www.mintchocolatechippies.com

A new classic holiday record that sounds like a classic Rat Pack Christmas album?

Yes, Please!

Recently I purchased the Michael Bublé album appropriately titled Christmas.  I have been listening to it nonstop since Black Friday. (There is a strict rule in my house that we do not decorate, wrap presents, or start to celebrate the Christmas holiday until the previous one, Thanksgiving, has ended.)  The album is full of classic Christmas songs in the same nostalgic fashions of Dean Martin, Bing Crosby, and Frank Sinatra.  While there are a few new favorites, such as “All I Want for Christmas Is You” and Bublé’s original song “Cold December Night”, the record feels like coming home for the holidays.

I want to focus for a bit on the rendition of “Jingle Bells” on the album.  Mr. Bublé is accompanied by The Puppini Sisters on this song.  If you do not know these ladies, Google them right now!  Then go to iTunes and buy one of their albums.  While they have their own sound, I can’t help but feel like these women are The Andrews Sisters reincarnate.  This track is probably my favorite one on the whole album.  It is definitely worth the cost of the album, be it on amazon.com, iTunes, or if you actually have a record store still open in your town.

In conclusion, if you are as obsessed with an old fashion Christmas as we are, you’ll love Michael Bublé’s Christmas.  Listening to the male version of “Santa Baby” will put a smile on any girl’s face.  This record truly puts you in the spirit of the season!

Review By: Mary & Pepper Mint * The Mint Chocolate Chippies
www.mintchocolatechippies.com

For Parts 1 and 2 of “When Johnny Comes Home” Click here!

Lucy was frightened. She wasn’t frightened of what the gypsy said or did, but of what she herself had done. She was frightened of the Black Lotus too. I am a fool. The problem was even though Lucy was frightened of it, she was grateful to the candle as well.

Not even in death will you escape it. Lucy didn’t know what Madam Vadoma had meant by it; she was too terrified to try and figure it out. She lay in bed next to Johnny, who was sleeping deeply, and looked at the still burning, still un-melted candle on her window sill. It was once again the only light in the room. “Thank you.” The candle didn’t respond, but Lucy felt that it heard her. Maybe Johnny was right? Maybe she was crazy?

Johnny’s breath had been horrible during their lovemaking. Not wanting to hurt his feelings again, Lucy had done her best to ignore it. Tomorrow, she was going to gently suggest that he make an appointment for the dentist. With all the time spent on the battlefield, oral hygiene must not have been a priority.

Johnny screamed and flew out of the bed on to the floor. “The field, the front! God, it burns!” he shouted.

 
“Johnny! Johnny, wake up!” Lucy crawled off the bed and held him on the floor.
 
“I don’t want to die!” Johnny’s eyes were open, but he didn’t see her. He was wild, desperate and still caught in his dream.
 
“Johnny!” Lucy shook him hard. His eyes focused on her; the desperation slowly dissolved out of them as he recognized who she was and where they were.
 
“We’re on the floor.” His voice was groggy.
 
“You had another nightmare.” She ran her hand over and through his short hair in a way that she hoped was soothing. “Do you remember it at all?”
 
His confusion gave way to fear. “No, but I remember how I felt. I was scared.” He looked into her eyes. “War dreams, I guess.”
 
“What?”
 
“ A lot of the guys end up having bad dreams when they come home. They told us all about it to prepare us, I guess. I never really gave it much thought. I never remember my dreams.” He stood and pulled her up too. “I’m sorry, Honey. Was I really loud? I must have woke you. Did I say anything?”
 
“No,” she lied.
 
“Good,” he shuddered. “Sheesh, I got the heebee jeebies. Come on, let’s get back in bed and cuddle. I want to have you real close.”
 
“Sounds good to me.” They crawled into bed and pulled the sheets and comforter up. Johnny had not been kidding about being close. Any closer and he would have been on top of her. She loved having his arms around her. She loved him holding her so tight against him that their bodies were smashed together. She was happy.
 
Then she smelled his bad breath.
 
“Sweetheart, I need to roll on to my other side.” He loosened his hold just enough for her to flip to her side, then grabbed her from behind and pulled her tight to him once again.
 
“I need you close.” Lucy loved getting all this attention, but something felt wrong about it. Johnny was different somehow. He seemed frightened. She had heard that war changes men, but she never would have thought anything could frighten Johnny. He’d never had a nightmare before, or at least not that she knew of. He was a sound sleeper and hardly ever moved, let alone tossed and turned.
 
Johnny held her so tight against him that she could only take shallow breaths. Lucy started to feel trapped by his fear and was worried what all this might mean. Once he fell asleep and his grip loosened, Lucy was able to slide over so she could breathe. She fell asleep wondering what was wrong with Johnny.
 
 
When Lucy woke up the next afternoon, Johnny was gone. She rushed out of the bed in a panic until she heard the shower running, and him singing “You Were Meant for Me.” Good! He needs one. She giggled and started to pick up the bedroom. She assumed they would be having company over soon, tomorrow if not this evening – she couldn’t keep him a secret forever – and she needed to get the house clean.
 
Lucy acknowledged the still-burning Black Lotus and marveled how bright the afternoon sun was. Once again she and Johnny had almost spent the enire day in bed. She picked her red party dress from the floor and hung it on the closet door. She would have to take both it and the tuxedo to be properly cleaned.
 
Lucy went to gather up Johnny’s tuxedo when she noticed the smell. Sour and sweet at the same time, but mostly sour. Like rotting fruit. It was a bad smell. Lucy had smelled this before. It was the smell of a dead animal.
 
From time to time Lucy and Johnny had problems with mice in the house. The first sign was droppings. Then they would find boxes nibbled and garbage shredded. After they’d had enough, they would put out the traps. That’s when the smell came. You had to check the traps often to avoid it.
 
Lucy imagined some fat old mouse had found its way up to their room and died somewhere. It had happened before. We need a cat. Frustrated, she went back to the dirty laundry. She scooped up the rest of Johnny’s tuxedo, and a dead mouse head fell at her feet. Lucy yelped and jumped on the bed. “Oh god!”
 
“What is it?” Johnny ran into the room, wearing his bathrobe. His hair was still wet against his head.
 
“It’s dead!” Lucy knelt on the bed, shaking her hands as if she could shoo the head away.
 
Johnny came around the bed and looked at the disembodied rodent remains. “It sure is.” He looked horrified. “How did it get here?”
 
“I don’t know, but get it out.” She continued the shooing gesture.
 
“Was this part of your…spell?”
 
“What? No, yuck!” Lucy glared at him. “That’s so disgusting. How could you even think that?”
 
“I don’t know about these things,” he shrugged. “You’re the Gypsy Witch apprentice.”
 
“Don’t be vulgar.” Lucy looked down at the head; one of its eyes was gone. She tried to stop herself from retching. “Take it outside!”
 
Johnny picked it up. Fascinated, he held the head in his hand, examining it. “Whoa, it looks like it’s been chewed.”
 
Lucy felt faint. “God, Johnny! Get it out now!” She could not stand to see him hold it.
 
Johnny looked up from the head. The anger twisting his face shocked Lucy. His eyes focused on hers; they seemed to clear a bit. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of it.” His odd anger gone, he smiled. “Sorry. I’ll wash my hands before I come back.” He left, holding the head far out in front of him, and went down the stairs.
 
Lucy rocked herself on the bed. She felt sick. She ran into the bathroom and scrubbed her hands until they were bright red. She’d never seen anything so gruesome in her life. Even the dead mice in the traps had never looked like that. Although, Johnny almost always cleaned the traps out for her, sparing her the grisly job of discarding the bodies. She was sure this was the worst thing she had ever seen. Except maybe that furious, ugly expression on Johnny’s face.
 
He was suddenly behind her. She jumped back and stubbed her big toe against the vanity. “Ow! You scared me!” She smacked his shoulder.
 
“I’m sorry. You alright?” He reached for her.
 
“Don’t touch me!” She almost fell into the tub to get away from him.
 
“What’s wrong?” He pulled back from her, confused and hurt.
 
“You haven’t washed you’re hands yet!”
 
“Oh, sorry.” Johnny looked sheepish. He turned to the sink. “I buried it.”
 
“Why?” She sat down on the toilet and examined her hurt toe.
 
“I didn’t know what else to do with it. I couldn’t very well just throw it in the garbage.” He used more soap. “Besides, it felt right to bury it.”
“Thank you for taking care of it. I don’t know what I would have done if I was by myself.” She tried to massage the stubbed toe, but it hurt to touch it.
“How’s your toe?” Johnny dried his hands and bent down to her foot to have a look. She stuck it out. “Can you move it?”
 
“Yes, but it hurts to do it.” Lucy grimaced as she wiggled it for him.
 
“At least it’s not broken.” Johnny reached out toward her. “May I?” She nodded, and he took her foot. He kissed the toe, never taking his eyes from hers. His kiss was feather soft; it made her gasp and tingle everywhere. “Pain diversion.” He smiled at her. She smirked down at him and stroked his cheek.
 
“You still need to shave.” Lucy clapped him on his shoulder. “I have an idea. If you get your razor ready for me, I’ll shave you.”
 
“Oh, yeah? You think your nerves can handle it?” He teased.
 
“Mine can if yours can,” she teased back.
 
He stood up and straightened his bathrobe. “That sounds like a challenge.” He opened his shaving case, pulled out the straight razor and put it on the vanity counter. Then he unfolded a large dark brown leather strop, and hooked its ornate golden clasp to the iron rod under the vanity mirror. He held the other end of the strop taught and firm, the muscles of his left arm straining against the strop. Then he took his razor and began stropping, as Lucy had seen him do many times before. Johnny ran the razor down and up the strop in long strokes, rotating the edge of the razor at the bottom and top of each stroke. His stropping started slow, but grew faster and faster until at last he was satisfied with razor’s sharpness. He laid the straight razor back on top of the vanity. “Ready when you are.”
 
She opened his shaving cream. The smell filled the small bathroom and brought with it warm memories. Lucy dipped the brush into the white cream and brushed a thin layer of it on his face. She picked up the sharpened razor and started on his right side. Lucy was just as nervous as the first time she had done this. She took it very slow and steady, and made sure not to press too hard.
 
Johnny stood still and watched her in the mirror, his smile in his eyes only. He only tilted his head when she indicated she by the gentle push of her finger. Lucy nudged his chin, and he tilted down. She worked on the mustache area under his nose. She tried to refrain from looking him in the eye, to avoid distracting herself.
 
Lucy had no idea if other wives did this for their husbands, but she pitied them if they didn’t. The trust they gave each other made the experience so intimate and powerful. It was an intimacy that Lucy felt could only be exceeded in one other place. She blushed, thinking about it.
 
All that was remained was his left side. Lucy went to it with more confidence than she had felt so far; perhaps even overconfidence. Maybe that was why she grew careless and cut his cheek so deeply.
 
She felt the razor slice in just below his left ear and froze, not believing what she had just done.
 
Johnny didn’t yell or howl in pain. Johnny didn’t grab the razor from her in anger. Johnny didn’t even notice.
What really terrified Lucy was that Johnny didn’t bleed.
 
She knew that the cut had been deep; she had felt the razor stick in his face, but there was no blood. It just looked as if she had sliced off a thin layer of apple off to find only more apple underneath.
 
“Something wrong?” he asked her reflection in the mirror.
 
Lucy didn’t know what to do. She knew that this was very wrong. Johnny should be bleeding. He should feel pain. Something told her that if she confronted him with this it would put them into horrible danger. So she lied. “Nothing. I thought I might have nicked you for a second.”
 
“Nope.” He smiled. The bloodless cut under his ear expanding as he did. “Hurry and finish, please. I have big plans for you, and I can’t wait much longer,” he teased.
 
Lucy felt as though she might be sick, but she nodded and continued to shave him. When she finished she wanted to run away, but as soon as she put the razor down, Johnny scooped her up into his arms and carried her into the bedroom, closing the door with his foot behind them.
 
 

When Lucy was sure Johnny was asleep, she silently climbed out of the bed and dressed herself. She opened the door and crept out and down the stairs. She slipped on her heels that were by the front door and walked out into the early evening.
 
Her relief at getting out of the house was short-lived once she realized she had nowhere to go. In her desperation she ran to Madam Vadoma’s house across the street. She was the one person who would understand. Maybe she would know what to do?
 
Lucy knocked on the gypsy’s door. After a long while she heard the old woman moving inside the house. Madam Vadoma came to the door and spoke through it. “Who is there?”
 
“It’s Lucy. Can I come in?”
 
“No you cannot. I will not have you bring the mess you have made into my home as well.” Madam Vadoma’s voice was matter-of-fact and unemotional.
 
“Please! I need your help!” Lucy cried.
 
“I cannot give it, child. There is nothing I can do for you. You are lost to the spell you have cast.” Some small emotion slipped into her tone when she said, “I am sorry.”
 
“I’m sorry I took your candle. I’m sorry I added to the spell.” Lucy broke down. “I don’t know what’s happening. I don’t know what’s wrong with Johnny.”
 
“You lied to Madam Vadoma! You said your dream told you to bring him home.” The gypsy yelled through her closed door.
 
“No, it was the truth!” Lucy cried. “The dream told me that I was losing him. I knew that if I didn’t bring him home now, he would never come!”
 
“You lied to yourself then.” Madam Vadoma had opened her front door a small crack and was looking at Lucy, her eyes filled with pity. She sighed. “If you had only followed the spell, none of this would have mattered. It would have protected you from this. The Black Lotus does what it wants to whom it wants. It is a very untrustworthy power and too strong to have been used on a spell such as yours.” She sighed again. “I should have known you would take it; I saw it work its will on you.”
 
Lucy was trembling. She didn’t want to know anything more, but she had to. “What do you mean I lied to myself?”
 
“Your dream, it was not telling you to bring him home; it was telling you to say goodbye.”
 
“No…”
 
“Yes, child. Your Johnny was already dead. You have brought a dead man back to life and you have bound him to you until you lose yours. Perhaps, even after.” Lucy could not, would not believe her. “What you have done is unspeakable and cannot be undone. I cannot help you.” The gypsy shook her head and closed the door, leaving Lucy alone to face the night.
 
 
Lucy found herself standing back in front of her own house. She didn’t remember crossing the street, but there she stood all the same. I could leave! I could run away! Where would she go? She had no family and no real friends. Who would believe her anyway? She still might have turned into the night and taken her chances out in the world, if Johnny hadn’t started screaming in their bedroom. She ran into the house and up the stairs without a second thought.
 
She turned on the bedroom light to find Johnny writhing in pain on the floor. “I remember! I remember, the dream!” Lucy ran to him and knelt down beside him trying to once again soothe away his nightmare. His voice lowered, but his intensity did not.“I was bleeding. You were there! You were in the field. I heard you calling my name. I tried to crawl to you, but then you were gone.” Lucy remembered her own dream, and felt as cold as the fog that had surrounded her. “I died then I think.”
 
“Am I still me?” He looked up at her. She didn’t know how to answer that. “You are still you. You are the same. You are like the mice. It makes me hungry.” The mouse head! “After I eat them I feel more like me again. I forget, I think.”
 
“Johnny stop!” Lucy was crying. She didn’t want to hear it.
 
“I buried it. Dead things belong in the dirt.”
 
“Johnny, please…”
 
“I belong in the dirt.” His voice was so calm now, so sad.
 
“No…”
 
“Come with me.” He reached out and grabbed her shoulders. His eyes were intense and clear.
 
“What?” Lucy tried to back away, but he just gripped her tighter and held her still.
 
“I came back for you.” He stood and tried to pick her up. Lucy struggled to pull away, but he was stronger than she was and crushed her against him. “I want to have you real close.” Lucy tried to scream, but he covered her mouth with his. His foul, dead breath filling her lungs. NO!
 
He had her arms pinned against him. Lucy squirmed and kicked wildly. She landed a great kick to his knee. His reflex was activated, and the shifting of his weight while trying to keep her still was too much. He fell over with her on top of him. His grip loosened, and Lucy pulled away, scrambling across the floor until she could gain her footing. She ran for the bedroom door.
 
Johnny was up and running too fast behind her. “Lucy, please!” She ran through the door, but he grabbed her wrist, twisting it backward painfully. He tried to pull her back to him. He only succeeded in slamming the back of her head into the door frame. Her world darkened into a deep purple. When her vision cleared he was once again holding her too him and kissing her. “I need you. Stay with me!”
 
Both of Lucy’s arms were folded, pinned against his chest, her hands under his chin. She futilely smashed them against his face. She leaned and pushed back from him until her back hit the door frame. She was able to free herself enough to shove up as hard as she could, her palms slamming into his chin. She screamed, as her already-swollen wrist burst with a new fiery pain. It was what she needed though; his head rocked back and the shock to his body caused him to drop her.
 
He stumbled back toward the staircase, blocking her escape. She ran to the bathroom and slammed the door closed. She realized her panicked mistake immediately; she had trapped herself with no way out. “Lucy, come with me!” Desperate, Lucy shoved all her weight against the door and held the knob with her good wrist.
 
Johnny was at the bathroom door in an instant trying to push it open. She wouldn’t be able to hold it closed for long. She reached out to grab the straight razor, still on the vanity counter. Her broken wrist flopped uselessly and more liquid fire shot up her arm. She flew to the counter and grabed the razor.
The door burst open.
 
Lucy swung at Johnny wild and blind. The razor connected and dove itself deep into the left side his neck and stuck there like she had simply tried to chop a melon. Lucy stepped back in horror, her hands covering her mouth.
 
Johnny looked confused. He reached up to where the razor was lodged in his neck, and pulled it free with a grunt. The wound gaped open, but there was no blood. Fool! He looked at Lucy, his eyes sad. “I still love you, Luce. I still want you with me.” He came at her, and she jumped back and tripped into the tub slamming her head against the tile wall.
 
She saw nothing but deep, dark purple.
 
 

When Lucy opened her eyes, all she could see was stars. She was outside? She tried to turn her head to look around, but it hurt too much, and it made the stars purple and wavy. Purple waves. She would have giggled if not for the pain. Just then the stars jumped and moved. Or did she move? She couldn’t tell. Then it happened again. She was on the ground, and she was being dragged.
 
Fear helped her eyes to focus; adrenalin helped lift her head. Johnny was up above her, holding her feet and dragging her. He was wearing his tuxedo. She looked down at her body and saw her red party dress, disheveled and dirty. She also noticed a frayed rope had been tied around her. She tried to move, but the rope held firm and tightened the more she struggled.
 
Lucy was free falling. She landed with a crack, hitting the bottom of a large dirt hole. The wind knocked clean from her body and rendered her scream-less. It was hard to believe that she could feel even more pain, but it exploded from the middle of her back and flooded the rest of her senses.
 
Dirt was flung over her face and fell into her mouth. She spat it out, but more came in. She coughed and choked and tried to keep her mouth closed. Johnny was burying her. “I have it all figured out, Kiddo.” He sounded excited and kept up his shoveling, covering her feet and legs. “I’ll get you good and buried. Then I’ll lie down next to you, bury myself as much as I can, and just burrow down to where you are. It will take a while, but I think I can do it.” The dirt came faster now, the weight of it covering her chest, making it difficult to breathe. More covered her face. It filled her nostrils until she was forced to open her mouth to breathe. A larger pile of dirt forced its way into her mouth, and she had to swallow. It was impossible, and she started to choke. “Don’t worry! I won’t stop until I find you. We’ll be together, close together forever.” Her head almost completely covered, she couldn’t see anything as she choked on the dirt, but she could still hear. What she heard was her husband whistling “You Were Meant for Me,” as he shoveled more dirt atop her grave. Then she heard nothing.
 
 

Madam Vadoma stood in the Holloway house, looking at the Black Lotus candle, its flame tall and proud. “Enough mischief. Enough now.” She blew at it, and the flame died down, but still fought to hold the wick. She spat on it, and the flame died out. The gypsy stuffed the candle into her carpet bag and left the empty house alone to face the day.
 
 

The End

Christmas Pin-Ups

COST: $225

INCLUDES:
~one look (you bring the outfit, props and decor are provided)
~2 scenes to choose from (decorated fireplace and studio set scenes)
~hair and makeup by our fabulous Beauty Bombshell® Timarie!
~10-12 fully edited and finished images provided digitally within 2 weeks
~Boudoir Bombshells® goodie bag that includes themed goodies, coupons, and other fun stuff from our exclusive preferred vendors!
~light refreshments, holiday movies and music (if you would like to bring a treat to share please let us know)
We are excited to be bringing you our second holiday edition of pin-up photography fun! Our Halloween pin-ups were so popular that we decided to do another one for Christmas! This fun-filled pin-up photo party event will take place at Kristen’s home studio near Mt. Dora, FL and the address will be provided to those attending. A deposit of $75 is required to hold your spot in the lineup and the balance is due the day of your shoot. There are 6 slots for each day so spaces WILL GO FAST. A spot absolutely cannot be guaranteed unless you have provided your deposit. You can pay via check or paypal to kristen@khphotographics.com. You MUST bring your own outfit, but props, decor, and scenery ARE provided.
Kristen lives in a 1922 restored Victorian home that has a great stone-walled fireplace that will be decorated extensively and will be used for one of the scene options. The other scene option will be a simple studio backdrop with your choice of props for those who would like a more simple set. You price includes one outfit, which also means ONE set. If you would like to shoot in both sets it will be an additional $50. Please inquire if interested.

If you have any questions please email kristen@khphotographics.com.

NOTE: As always, this event is NOT for other photographers to attend, so please do not RSVP. This event is for CLIENTS ONLY

Boudoir Bombshells® is a registered trademark.