The 1940s and 1950s were the golden age of Hollywood. The beauties back then were different from now. They will wear wide skirts that stretch below the knees, have the most attractive breasts and slender waists and long legs, and they will sing the life of roses and the moon river in a slow and deep voice. They have such stubborn, thick eyebrows and big bright eyes, flashing eternally in the black and white film and the long river of history. They are the real golden girls.
This film can't help but remind me of Clark Gable's "A Night in the Air". I will never tire of the story of a poor boy catching up with a rich girl and a sparrow becoming a phoenix. The plot of the movie half a century ago is so simple and clear, it seems to be a Cinderella fairy tale with jokes and humor inserted and chopped off. Love turned out to be so simple that it blossomed, and it was simply fruitful, wrapped in the smoke of the cigar and the packaging of Givenchy's clothes.
Not long ago, I finally learned about Givenchy's real French pronunciation, ji vong she, with beautiful phonology and sonorous charm.
But now we always ask, why can a poor girl in a Korean drama run around carrying a Prada bag? Why does Carrie Bradshaw write a column for $1.25 but can live a life of night and night with 400 pairs of Manolo Blahnik shoes? Why do you always feel that he loves her and she doesn't love him or something like reasons are never sufficient?
Have we become reality? Vivien Leigh with a 17-inch waist, Grace Kelly who became the princess, Marilyn Monroe in a white dress standing in the subway vents, those beauties died one by one and became legends that only stayed on the screen. We will never see real love stories, dialogues that really exist for flirting, real masculine gentlemen and beautiful girls who fall in love with them. Teach people upset.
It is not that we have become reality, but that time has passed. That golden age and those golden girls can only exist in distant memories.
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