Pretty or interesting, up in your face or mysterious?

This Friday at midnight, Cinderella time sharp, I am migrating to Rio de Janeiro for 'work': a pretty and pretty exaggerated word for something that won't feel like work, but will be serious and full of significance. Yes indeed: appearances are deceptive and Rio's chaotic charm aside, there is a lot to be learned there.

While choosing the image to announce my departure and 'no posting while there' policy, I faced the usual dilemma (for an ex advertiser now designer/'fun experience architect'): do you use an easy, up in your face, pretty & instantly recognizable photo or something that requires a bit of an effort from the viewer?

Depends, right? Lazy tired me, I just leave it for you to decide.

Productive August to all of us here, there, everywhere!

"Sputnik": my travelling companion in Rio

What a photograph! It has it all: a bike, a space rocket and a black doll (an image of the 'other'???). Back in the USSR, circa 1962.
This girl has grown and in 2 weeks she will join me for her first time in Rio de Janeiro.
What she doesn't know yet is the fact that many people here in Brazil who were born the same year as her, 1957, were given names (official!) "Sputnik" (because of the Soviet space rocket launch that year). And "Sputnik" means "travelling companion" in Russian, so it makes sense for us to travel together....
Brazilian creativity applied to naming children - this is another favorite topic of mine. A soap opera character whose name was Shiva Lenin (he had 2 fathers - one a Commie and another a new age hippie kinda guy) is actually not as crazy as it sounds.
I've met people whose names were Joanna D'Arc (followed by smt like De Souza Santos...), Lady Aparacedia Benedita, Gioconda Brasil (1st and last name), Waldis Ney - not exotic? Think again - Waldis Ney is how the Brazilians pronounce Walt Disney...

My favorite story is about the father of 3 children, 2 of whose kids' names were Gorbachev & Gandhi. So one day Gorbachev breaks a leg and winds up at the hospital. The father calls the hospital (he was travelling outside of town that day) to check on his son and asks the nurse: "Could you tell me please how I could speak to Gorbachev?" and the nurse thinks he is joking, for the city in question is the nation's capital, Brasilia...

Moving from South America to the USA, I knew of a girl whose parents had trouble conceiving and when she was finally born, in October, they called her October Joy. Luckily for her she became aka "Toby".
Well, me & my Sputnik are going to have August Joy for sure.

'Stretching'/expanding the category & giving homework to clients/friends

2 evident truths are about to be told (unneccessarily?), so I do apologize for that.
The 1st one is that expanding the category makes a lot of sense and even more fun. The 'thing' on the photo being the most recent case in point. I just sold it to a friend-client (this is the 2nd truth mentioned in passsing: your friends become clients and, better still, clients become your good friends) and she had fun thinking about it and trying it as a necklace/scarf/belt and who knows how many more uses there will be by tomorrow morning!!!
A match that seemed to be made in Heaven - Degas' dancers stretching their legs + a real stocking to go with/on it - becomes even better when you break this lucky coincidence.

Now, some rules and habits are very hard to break off: years I spent as a Professor make me give homework to my clients/friends: I do ask them to send me other people's reaction to seeing them wearing these pieces. So more than 'user-friendly' pieces, I prefer to think of what I do as 'friend-making' devices for my users-friends!
Paula, enjoy your green things!

Dark (or pink?) humor, or my swine flu countries' tour fast approaching

Today's news is that the swine flu has made it to the Buckingham Palace. My mother is convinced that she had the disease 2 weeks ago. Now, this doesn't mean that 1. my mother lives in the Buckingham Palace or 2. that she effectively had the swine flu.

However, I am definitely getting ready to head for the 3 countries among the most affected by this epidemics: Argentina, US & the UK.

So my 'pearls to pigs' necklace aside, I am getting ready to exercise my sacred right to joke about it all (one of my favorite books is The Decameron - that explains my attitude, right?)

After strolling near the World Bank with the wooden snake brought by my best friend from India (some weird glances there!!!) how about arriving in sweet home Chicago with the 3 pigs glove?

Hands-on knowledge: learn everywhere, all the time

One week from now I will be a girl from Ipanema again (because of a Feira Hippie in Ipanema that I go to every Sunday when I am there) - without a permanent home, nomad meets Bohemian lifestyle in my dear Lapa in Rio de Janeiro. Field work at the Recycling arts center during the day, as well as some fashion history research at the Museum of the Image & Sound & Instituto Moreira Salles, and lots of excellent music at night.
It was my last Sunday in Sao Paulo today & I went to EMBU das Artes, a big artesan fair just outside of the city. Found & bought many good things that I will later use in my work but the winners are those rings made from the beer cans' 'hooks' or whatever they are called.
Oh well - my vocabulary may not be perfect but my eye spots different thing unfailingly!
Cheers to other people's creativity. It made my day, yet once again!

Cc: Clochard chic

Sao Paulo has everything, even the objectivity, for its inhabitants do admit that fashion, creating it, especially spontaneously, without the marketing research, strategy & business plan, is better in Rio de Janeiro.

I think it has to do with how generally 'relaxed' you are: if there are no dress codes to obey, then anything is possible.

Here's my little take on it: a necklace made of used (not by me) and found (by me) public phone cards with Christ the Redeemer (i've redeemed the cards, too! gave them second life!) and the 'almost gloves' made of a pair of socks (the cleanliest among us be advised: socks were mine, never worn & still washed before re-usage).

President throwing condoms: is he 'the' man???

No, it's not something on Barack that you've missed. The latest 'scandalous' (American scandalous, aka politically correct=the impossibility of saying anything) on him was classifying the police action as 'stupid'...

The condoms & the President in question is Lula, the Brazilian President, who did this on the Sambodromo during the Carnival in Rio de Janeiro. Significantly enough, it happened on the night I was there and no, I didn't catch any (plus it's not like a bride's bouquet...)

When I was living in Italy I did my best to keep abreast of the worst in the Italian politics. In Brazil I preferred to ignore it but some things were so, hmm, un-smart (politically correct, here we go - I'd prefer to say, quoting Obama - 'stupid'). Like Lula saying that the crisis is the fault of the 'white people with blue eyes' - significanly enough, that was said in a face to face meeting with a Scandinavian (Norwegian? too tired to do fact-check now) PM.

Much better then to depict the events that never took place - like Obama dancing samba. No gaffes there for sure.

Gaffes avoided, the uncertainty remains: I am still very sceptical about Obama saying when seeing Lula in the G8 meeting: "He's the man!"

Throwing condoms to a happy crowd in Rio doesn't make one more of a man...

That aside, Carnival was fantastic: went expecting nothing, found the most delighftully kitschy mega-party ever!

Size matters? Philosophizing about T-shirts & the importance of being off-center

From tea to beer: Brahma, for those not from Brazil or otherwise unfamiliar with the local culture, is a beer brand.

And of course this year Barack just had to be there...here...everywhere.

But since this year I, too, decided that I can and should make change happen, seeing this T shirt made me think of something quite different but very pertinent to what I do: how come that people are always up for wearing a T-shirt with a huge image smack in the middle but can be somewhat (or very, it depends) shy about wearing a necklace with a reproduction of a famous painting, about (at least) 1/7 of the T-shirt illustration size???

That started me thinking about the importance of being 'off-center' and made me decide to produce more broches - one little change - you put the same image you'd use in a necklace and just dislocate it, move it to a side.. and what a difference a few inches make!

Let's drink Brahma to that, a couple of inches of sips & gulps!

Less is more. More is a bore. Time for tea. Tea for two? No, just one: me

I was intent on cutting out the green grape vase earrings. But what I saw afterwards gave me an idea for a very British necklace: "Tea craving", for what I saw looked an awful lot like a head (with dredges that I love!!!) and lots of tea cups.

And I am going to have one right now. Cheers!

Looking back to go forward

Anything I could've told my parents would not have shocked them as much as the fact that I started doing something with my hands. I've already been a saint and a sinner, but a crafty person - noooo, not possible, it ain't our daughter.

Well, what prevented me from taking my imagination to the next logical step - that of the practical execution - was precisely the fact that in my house my parents would basically only read. No sports, no knitting. Just getting smarter by reading to later sell our brains.

Among the first timid attempts I've made was the 'creative adaption', aka 'inappropriate use' of objects. It would usually happen to me when I was already working on some creative projects: like using the belt as a necklace came about when I was working on my portfolio to get into an advertising school.

Another example is the Beatles keychain: after a month of meetings in London I was going back to Chicago, unsatisfied with my bijoux purchases. So I got this keychain at Heathrow and its fool-proof transformation was a success: people find it amazing, for some reason.

The VIP pass for Art Chicago was my piece num.3. What I find wonderful is that people wouldn't throw strange glances at me but would ask instead: "Oh yeah, how was the show?"

The show must go on!

Making up for the lost childhood

The compensation mechanism is something that I totally, absolutely believe to be true. I guess I didn't play enough when I was little, so I am making up for it now.

When I was 17, I'd dress up conservatively (in a suit!!!) - now I only accept to downtone my appearance when I am training big companies' CEOs (even though I think I'd train them even better if I show up wearing what my heart desires).

Ok, back to my bijoux: creating some pieces goes exactly according to a plan, while others take an unforseen direction. In this one, I originally planned to use the 2 Ancient Roman Emperors' medallions together with the comic-book style dialogue between the two of them. But then I got a Peruvian woolen toy (a cat lady? it looks like a Devil to me!) and a dolls head. When it all came together, a necklace took on a new meaning....

And in order to make sure everybody would get it, I even gave away the beginning of the saying: "Caesar's wife is..."(O tempora, o mores! This doesn't seem to help a lot in 'getting it all').

It's probably one of the craziest necklaces I have but I love wearing this little theatre on my throat!

The unbearable heaviness of being

I already talked about my passion for the swings. Flying, or rather, wanting to do so, seems to be a letimotiv of my existence. When I was a little girl I really wanted to have a flying carpet or a private jet.

Make no little plans, even when you are a little child: at the age of 5 I started working towards the Nobel Prize. Someone told me about the money involved & I figured I'd be able to buy a jet to fly to see my grandparents. The 'what to do with the money' part resolved, I had to choose what to invent. That was easy, too: my dad, a TV journalist at the time, was loosing his hair & his concern influenced my choice - I set out to invent an anti-baldness cure.

The main ingredient was an awfully smelly Soviet toothpaste. The only result of my invention was the death of all & every single fly in our apartment (interesting, huh? flies would die, but my teeth are still pretty!) And my Dad switched to working on a radio program which was a big hit.

All's well that ends well? Well, not really.

Flying - even when you pay for the ticket due to the lack of your own jet - is fine, but having a lot of luggage is not. And unfortunately this is my condition: on one hand I desperately want to be light, on the other hand(s), I keep accumulating stuff.

For years it used to be books, now it's my crafts materials & antique pieces that I find at the flea markets worldwide.

The only light part remaining is my attitude. Bring it on, free of charge!

All my little children: trafficking babies & animals

Just came back from a post office after sending 19kg of stuff to the UK.

I plea guilty to smuggling children & animals from Brazil to the UK. The children in question being toys (along with the broken doll parts: feet for my 'fetish' series, etc.) and the dangerous animals made of bright plastic.

At times when I buy this stuff I actually laugh quietly imagining someone opening my purse and finding this 'cemetery' inside (oh yeah, i also performed umbrella autopsy last week - these days nothing goes directly to a waste basket & many new uses for old things are invented).

One thing remains unchanged though: a female purse is still a mess and a mystery!

The baby you see here though will fly to Buenos Aires, Chicago & London with me (can't run the risk of loosing it, especially because 'green baby' is one of my dearest friend's nickname - Kyle, I miss you so much!)

At the beginning it was just a baby pin that used to destabilize my students & even the busy Starbucks staffers. Then I put it on a Rio de Janeiro necklace & to give it more meaning (conceptual pieces, right?) I added Minneapolis Public Library pin.

Hence its name: "Green Baby goes to Washington" - lobbying, right? To keep the libraries open.

About a week ago here in Sao Paulo one lady asked me what the message read. I translated it. She asked what the Lebanese had to do with it (libraries=lebanese). When I explained, she began talking about how she herself didn't read enough, not even the classics. I said that it was just fine by me.

What is not going to be fine though is this lack of not only looking at me, but talking and asking questions. Every time I go out wearing my piece is a unique, fun experience. Every piece is a true conversation piece & I enjoy it greatly.

UK will be different. But it still will be good!

You can reach me, but can you touch me?

A slight change of perspective: for the past week my computer was away from me. Yes, that's right: instead of me being away from my computer, it was it (or him) that was away from me. I was so busy with tons of other things that I hardly noticed it, though, but all of my contacts did & they couldn't believe that I totally cut myself off from the modern life.

Oh well. Now I am 'back in the saddle again': you can reach me.

But what touches me is something handwritten and old, like this letter. It's funny, too, in an almost black humor way - it was written in 1944, in Italy, and it directly alludes to a not so remote possibility of getting wounded.

Incredibly enough, this piece was one of the biggest hits during my work exhibition at MASP: you'd think people are in too much of a hurry to pay attention to details, but in fact, this letter picked their curiosity...

No more handwritten letters for me: back to the email world. Lots of things to catch up on.

Animal attraction: addicted to buying more while packing

Right now I am supposed to pack. "Packing" - love the word, have problems with putting it in practice. As long as I can remember, my dream has always been that of a flying carpet or at least with travelling on 'normal' airplanes but with no luggage. Like, you make it disappear and then it appears magically when you need it....

No such luck. The only home I have now in my beloved Chicago is the storage space I had to rent because I couldn't separate myself from my numerous books...

Well, we'll talk about books later but here's something I found 2 days ago - some 1950's wooden painted 'toys' with moving hands, tongues, etc.

And of course I couldn't resist it. And they apparently have a lot of animal magnetism inside their little bodies, so some new pieces were born by mistake.

"Having no vice is good, but living without temptation is boring!"

'Let them steal art!'

I am a fast thinker. I connect things in a crazy way for sure, but it's great. To give you an example: I had a student back in Chicago who was double-majoring in Political Science & Music. So the moment she announces that in class I immediately ask her: "Oh, so you'd be able to tell us what you think is the most beautiful National Anthem!".
When I laid my eyes on this purse in Rio, the irony hit me right away: using a purse made of holes in Rio de Janeiro with its reputation is... simply great (I could post many more things confessing my -mutual- love for the cities of the world that have this sweet tingling feeling of danger in the air, something that in general I find to be a bit of an exaggeration). Caotic, dirty, masculine cities.
Now, the first thing you are warned not to do in a dangerous place is to wear jewelry (when I was married my husband categorically refused to go to work in Brazil because of all the stories about women's fingers being cut off in order to get the golden rings - so I had to get divorced to move here!!!)
So as soon as I started making my jewelry it hit me (again): if I make use of many famous paintings' reproductions I'd actually love people stealing my pieces. What better way of spreading the knowledge of art than this????
When I was working at the Museum of Rome we didn't think of that. Maybe I'll implement it in Naples or Marseille next time...

There is genius everywhere, or why do the homeless people read more and say smart things?

The cultural level of Brazilians - something I could, and will, talk for hours once I am back in Europe. I should really be living in Buenos Aires, considering that porteno's love for books and the bittersweet atmosphere of the city ('saudade' is much more Argentinean than it is Brazilian, I am convinced) agrees with me. But then again, it was a conscious choice on my part: Brazil is infinitely more 'exotic' (here we go, the gringo speaking!)

Anyways, Brazil is one of the most expensive countries to buy books, even the second-hand sites & stores make me shiver after years of buying everything on Amazon... And it creates a vicious circle: people who are already weak in their reading habits continue not reading and the Government rejoices in this state of affairs.

What I find fascinating is that the only people I see reading - avidly, and all the time, are the homeless & a bit crazy people. They really do read. And no wonder if you listen to what they say it makes sense...

Well, there are 2 reasons why I remembered this now: the first one are the 2 of some of the best pieces of jewelry I got. Bought from a homeless guy in San Francisco. 5$ each. Amazing. But of course I read too much into it by thinking that the black dots in the Lenin piece was an alusion to caviar. But no, it was just an ornament.

And the second reason is a 'spicy' one: we all live by cliches, so even the smartest of my friends somehow expected me to have an intense love-life in Brazil. Like, as if no one could resist the samba & the beach. What? Can you see me here? See above - culture indifference among people, so where do I fit in?

One place I do fit in for sure: the second-hand bookstores (a huge business here) and their owners. I've broken a few hearts of these wonderful people, alas, for I love books but then I want to be left alone to read.

And tomorrow I have yet another date with my next victim: a black musician who thanks to his years of active service in the trade union (left,right?) talks about Dostoevsky, Bakhtin, Stravinsky and thinks that I am a godsend.

Ha! Ha! God sent me here for 1 reason only, so that I'd finally realize that I never want to grow up or give on art & culture. Men & seduction? Live it for when I go to live in France!

Bride escapes, or how I want to divorce my best girlfriend!

If I say that I've been dreaming of divorcing my best friend for years, you'd think that it's a guy I have a crush on, right? Wrong. It's one of my best girlfriends and... well, it's a long story. But one day I will do it - untie the sacred not (ooops, dear Freud...'not' vs knot).

I could also tell you a story on my divorce party during the Halloween party when my soon to be ex husband came dressed as a boy-scout, while I recycled my wedding gown but also used high boots & a whip - my theme was the wicked wife, since that's what everybody seemed to be saying behind my back at the time. It was fun but let's leave it for now, too.

Let's just show some art. The first piece is "The bride escapes, or everyone wants to be someplace else" and the second is the wedding ring (the ring uses a metro ticket from Rio de Janeiro as a base & it very appropriately says 'Unitario'/Single on it).

When we are single we are not always alone & when we are married...

More on landing & taking off: the guy I would've loved to go out with.

Santos-Dumont is a fascinating figure: I keep wanting to learn more about him but always run out of time to go all the way, maybe because the 'way' is long, he's done many things, some of them (most of them) wonderfully crazy. I fell for him when I learnt about how he'd show up at his friends' house in Paris by flying through the window. Wow! I'd go out with a guy like this, even though not always would he land smoothly (but then I always do, right?)

I saw an exhibit on his work at the Museu de Casa Brasileira about 2 months ago. There I was surprised to discover that his first planes had the 'vice versa' orientation, meaning that the tail of the plane was its head. I also found out that he was the person who invented the watch as we know it (are the wrist watches dying, by the way?) but gave away this idea to his friend...Cartier. Ever heard of this guy? Yeah, right!

The best moment came when I was studying one of the 'ancient', 'dinasour' models in the garden. There I was, looking at an old model & on the horizon I saw the sky-scrapers on Avenida Faria Lima, one of the financial hot spots, almost each of them complete with a helicopter landing pad. Sao Paulo is known to be either first or second city in the World (after NYC) in terms of the number of private helicopters. What is not well-known is the fact that here 40% of the helicopter landing pads are illegal.

Would Santos-Dumont mind that? I doubt it.

Leaps & bounds. Doing crazy things but being safe

It might surprise people who don't know me well, but my best friends are used to it by now: I keep doing crazy stuff but it ends well & I land safe.

So this photo (when I buy things I demand a story about a piece to be told, it's part of the deal, I am an avid story-gatherer and an enthusiastic story-teller) - taken in Santos, an important oil-extracting center near Sao Paulo, showing a platform that existed until a few years ago, I was told - seemed like an appropriate mood-setting piece for my birthday.

That's how I feel right now: happily jumping into the water. I can't swim, but I know I will make it. Somehow.

To be continued.

Hot from the press! Or lukewarm in the hammock. Are the French hot or what?

About an hour ago I had a sudden urge to make a piece for myself, not for a client (I love my clients but above all I love making jewelry).

So I put together this necklace. I bought 2 identical photos at the flea market here in Sao Paulo, except for 1 bears this inscription (in French) on the back: "La statue du travail ou Jacques fait du sport" (transl.: "Statue of Labor, or Jacques is doing physical exercise"). This necklace, by the way, is dedicated to Ricardo, meu amor, with whom we somehow always wind up talking about hammocks and their role in the Brazilian life.

Well, this is the year of France in Brazil (Brazil used to be called "Antarctic France" by the Frenchmen at the times when they used to 'own' Rio de Janeiro), so I'll tell 2 of my favorite stories that deal with my favorite topic - cross-cultural (mis)understanding (both of them have Jean-Paul Sartre as a protagonist).

In the first one, JPS is confronted, for the first time, with the Brazilian national dish - feijoada - to which he reacts, shocked, by saying: "C'est de la merde, ca!" Sublime!

In the second episode a group of Brazilian intellectuals, future President of Brazil FHC (Fernand Henrique Cardoso) among them, are walking on the street intent on not loosing a single word JPS utters. At a certain moment, however, JPS finds himself to be walking completely, totally alone. When he turns & looks back he sees that all of his entourage are walking, same admiration on their faces, with another idol, of another kind: Pele.

So here's to cultural cliches: the French 'merde' meets the Brazilian soccer.

One more note on soccer: a comedy TV program appropriately called 'Monkey news' recently talked about how the French language doesn't do justice to a soccer game. When there is a gol, instead of a masculine and euphoric 'e' gooooooooooooooooooooooooooolllllllllllllllllllllll' the Brazilian style, the French chant, female style, 'o-la-la, le ballon!"

Who are the real men then? Are the French hot or what? Well, my year of France began during my last year in the States when I had 6 French 'boyfriends' in 12 months. 3 of them were among the best lovers I've had, and 3 among the worst.

So, what does that tell you? Objectivity. I'll keep on trying and I am dying to get Terre d'Hermes, my best experience's favorite perfume.

On paranoias: receiving gifts

I don't have many paranoias, but those that I am lucky to have are good ones. Talking about them would make a good starting point for a novel (except for I am not planning to write one any time soon).

Funnily enough, over the years I've noticed that suggesting people talk about their paranoias or recall embarassing experiences is an excellent ice-breaker among strangers at parties & such. Strange but true: if you ask people how they've made complete fools of themselves or ask them to confess some crazy personality traits, everybody happily jumps at this opportunity.

As for me, the gift-receiving issue is not my favorite paranoia but considering my recent birthday it's the most appropriate.

I love giving gifts (unbirthday presents being the best) but receiving is a problem. Why? Well, I am quite picky & if you give me something predictable (which is easy to do since I love crazy things) I get so disappointed that it immediately shows on my face. I can control many things but not this one.

Talking about jewelry gifts: the one and only time I got an expensive gift from my ex boyfriend who really was always careful with spending money, it happened to be the turquoise bag famous T-brand that I simply can't stand. Chunks of silver with no design. So, we sit at a breakfast table at home and he gives me this. I look at it, take it, put it next to the cereal boxes without opening.

That would teach you never ever to give me presents!

Still, some less well-informed or simply more corageous people try and...succeed.

Most recently it was Kae: first as a private joke he gave me a necklace with pierced ears (my 'real' ears are not pierced, people say that i am different even in that) so that I could say that i finally am more like everybody else. And then for my birthday he gave me an eye (for watching over me, always) and a hand blowing me a kiss.

So now that I have to wear my creations only in order to do promotions these 2 pieces are the only ones I will make an exception for & wear.

Other paranoia stories will follow. For now I want to feel normal enjoying the gifts I've received. May I?

You say potato... I say India

I said India and talked about Africa. Lost the train of thought half way. My Mumbai-bound train derailed. But now it's too late to explain.

Please accept these images as my apology/reason for it all. Mitigating circumstances???

Yours sincerely,

Flower child

Directly from Brazil...authentic Africa!

Soap operas invading the reality. It is even more so in Brazil, also due to the fact that there is less TV channels then, say, in the US. So now that the main hit is the novela set in India, the fashion business is all about that.

Yesterday I had another one of my 'Kyle moments' (Kyle, my dear Green Baby, saudades!!! miss you!): one side of the street - Indian music, right across the street - Michael Jackson full blast. Such a shame, considering that the only real cultural treasure here is Brazilian music...

anyways, here is some 'secret' footage on my African collection for a fashion company. the funniest thing is that I really am a good girl-scout: whatever you need it, I have it.

well, a weird girl-scout, considering that my own private Zoo aside, the 2nd collection is based on the popular 1980's soap here in Brazil that depicts the life of the hippies. Flower power full bloom. And I even had the marijuana necklaces at home ready for when I got a contract precisely to do this kind of work....

time to get back to work, roll up the sleeves. sleeves? what sleeves? it's Fall/Winter collection, which means it will be hot in Brazil, and in Africa, too.

The Circus is back in town!

The Great Masters are great because you think you know something about them and then you discover a whole new world...

I knew more about Toulouse-Lautrec than just his posters & dancers and all the fun drinking life-style, but I somehow missed the circus series.

When I saw all the pretty horses I thought I'd make a piece for a dear friend of mine in Rio de Janeiro, Priscila or for Ayse, in Istanbul, who also loves horses...

But instead I just made another piece in order to beat my 'pearl anxiety'. I think that Toulouse-Lautrec would've approved: see his photo dressed as a clown - dressing up as a japanese, Scottish, priest & what have you - was one of the things he loved the most, so someone parading with 3 strings of pearls, plastic horses & paintings (his!!!) would be just fine with him.