I always knew Charlize Theron was an attractive woman, but it was in sort of an abstract way. The same way you might appreciate a painting or a happy dog. You can say, "That's a happy dog," but feel no reason to pet him. Is what I am saying.
It was not until Charlize tried to rip out Kirsten Stewart's heart and eat it in "Snow White & The Hunter" that I really began to appreciate her charms. It has always been this way with me. I go for the bad girls, but it was just embarrassing that I should be into The Wicked Queen just like Woody Allen in that film that time. I was the same with Glenn Close. She did nothing for me in The Big Chill where she was sort of mumsy, but I loved her in Dangerous Liaisons as a sexy pre-Revolutionary vamp.
I think it started with Lemon. Lemon was a teddy bear I had when I was little. For a start, she was a she, which was kind of odd. Also, she was a raggy, badly-sewn thing whose mouth was on crooked. This gave her kind of a bemused sneer. An attitude of superiority over the other teddy bears who simpered in their ribbons. Lemon did not take this sort of crap and I loved her and took her everywhere, because she had attitude.
Over the years, I have come to realise I do not have a physical type I am attracted to, but I do have a personality type that intrigues me, which I shall call "Lemonish". Caro fit the bill perfectly. When I met her she had spiky hair, a nose-ring, she smoked (not necessarily tobacco, wink wink) and she wore combat pants. I loved those combat pants. I think they were just a comfort thing, but to me it meant Caro was dangerous, and therefore INTRIGUING.
Caro's style has evolved over the years. Now she does not do the combat pants thing any more. Her badness has evolved kind of into a Dynasty-era Joan Collins, "I have control of Denver-Carrington and you are all FIRED" sort of groove.
But a few years ago, Caro and I went to my mother's funeral. Unbeknownst to me, my sister had placed an "In Memorium" ad on my behalf from me "and Lemon" because she thought it was cute. It had the unfortunate effect that everyone at the funeral thought Lemon was my girlfriend. "Oh you must be Lemon," they said, introducing themselves. "What an unusual name! Still, I expect you all have funny names in New Zealand."
"Who the flip is this fudging Lemon? And why does everyone keep calling me that?" asked Caro, only she did not use those precise words.
I explained who Lemon was, and that she needn't worry, I had explained the situation and no-one thought she was my Lemon any more.
But I couldn't resist it, "Although... maybe you ARE," I said.
"Oh fudge off you flipping idiot," she replied, using Very Bad Girl Language. It just made me love her all the more.
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