Skip to main content

Żona idealna


In Poland, the network television show "The Good Wife" is translated as "Żona idealna." So we've been contemplating just what it means to be an "ideal wife." It's not clear that I am there, but it is interesting to think about how Polish women manage their lives, families, homes, children, and professions. Are they striving to be "ideal wives," or just "good wives"? Do they see the difference?

In the old days I used to joke that before going to Russia I always had to go out and buy a new wardrobe. Russian women are careful with their clothes, and were even during the Soviet era, and as an American I always feel a little underdressed, a bit sloppy and shabby, not quite ready for the spotlight that seems to shine when women walk down the street in Moscow or St. Petersburg. In the States I am sometimes amused to think of the age of a pair of shoes, a dress, or a coat. In Russia I want to look fresh and new, like the women around me, and that 25-year-old winter coat loses some of its charm. 

Poland is even worse. Or better. In the capital of Warsaw, the women have great boots, great coats, shockingly sheer nylons over even more shockingly short skirts... Their makeup is perfect, their skin is gorgeous, and despite the fact that I can't figure out why some of them have chosen the hair colors they do (black? really? on a Pole?), their haircuts and colors are certainly fresher than mine.



Which is why this advertisement near my house, and its graffiti, drew my attention. "You don't have to be ideal." Since I have a now 14-year-old daughter living with me here in Poland, I am suddenly hyper-sensitive to women's magazines, fashion, and hair and skin products. Inglot, a natural cosmetics company, has a storefront on Nowy Świat, and my daughter's friend is so aware that she asked for black Inglot nail polish for her birthday (and in turn gave my daughter something from Sephora).

Ever since the University International Visitors office gave me a brochure on Poland as a spa country (facials, mud treatments, the waters, the works), I've been trying to understand the role of beauty in Poland. How much are women trying to be people, and how much do they believe that femininity and external beauty will take them where they need to go?


The future: what does it hold for Polish women? Iwicka 4 is just around the corner from us, so I suppose I could go find out.

On the other hand, on the corner of Iwicka and Chelmska, our street, a new fancy bakery has just opened up. Perhaps baked goods are really where it's at.

If I do discover anything more than yummy pastries and cakes, I'll be sure to write about it.

P.S. Photo credits to said daughter. Thanks for helping!
Labels:

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Cringeworthy? Really??

It's so sad. I've gotten my first reaction to my new book. Well, second reaction. My sweet husband was brought to tears reading the introduction (possibly because he remembered just how many drafts of each section of the book, and of all the sections left on the cutting room floor, that he had read, and read, and read before). But now I've heard from a potential reader that his Russian friend-in-exile (and more importantly that friend's teenage son) think the title is кринжовый. Ouch. That hurts. Why do we need Russian literature? Do we? My Polish friend wrote to encourage me when she saw my linked in post about the publication and assured me that SHE and all her friends still love Russian literature ... even and despite the fact that Russians sometimes misbehave. (Some Russians more than others, and sometimes not just misbehaving--the world's reaction to the murder of Alexey Navalny in prison is noteworthy and important. We need to hold those responsible in contem
1 comment
Read more

RIP Randy Nolde

In everyone's life there is a teacher who motivated her to try harder, strive for more, reach beyond. Or in my case, a teacher who teased, goaded, poked, pried, laughed, lampooned, and somehow created an atmosphere where I was ready to work my tail off to make him proud. Randy Nolde, we will miss you. Mr. Nolde was my Russian teacher in high school. I first got to know him as a younger person -- the Russian Club Banquet was quite the event in my home town, and my grandmother used to take us regularly even before my sister enrolled in Russian language class. Every year, the high school cafeteria underwent a magical metamorphosis. Huge murals of scenes from Russia -- fantastic, colorful onion-domed churches, and young peasants reaping wheat, and Armenian maidens with long braids and colorful costumes -- hung all around the edges of the room. On the menu: chicken Kiev made by the cafeteria ladies, supplemented with cafeteria salad, but also khachapuri  and piroshki  made by the
6 comments
Read more

Personal Sanctions. Second Reactions

On Thursday I fled Denver in the face of what was promising to be an epic snowstorm. (My AirBnB host, who grew up in Michigan, advised that Denver is quick to hit the panic button, but I didn't dare stick around to find out. I needed to be home before Monday!) In the plane, waiting for de-icing, I checked my e-mail and learned that I had been added to a so-called "stop-list" of U.S. citizens who are being personally sanctioned for our attitudes toward the Russian government and its internal and foreign affairs. It's not often that you end up on a list with the head of Lockheed Martin--certainly nothing I ever expected. But then, I also had never thought of myself as a Russophobe, and now that's the label that has been affixed to me by the Russian Federation. I had just been upgraded to first class--apparently not a lot of people were fleeing Denver that morning!--so I did what any Russophobe would do: I ordered a vodka from the flight attendant. An American vodka,
Post a Comment
Read more