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An Andalucian Shop Window During Siesta With "Gender" Clarity
Struck Me As Almost Unbelievable
I’ve passed it many times.
If I showed this (photo above) to most people, they may think: “Yes, so?”
“What is it… that strikes you as newsworthy here? It’s a typical window in Granada. It’s a store that sells clothes, including Flamenco garb.”
Well, I stood looking at it, and was soon carried off into the beginning of a reverie.
I’ve told you I have “a thing about doors;” I also have a thing about shop windows. They’re one of the ways I connect to the world, understand changes afoot, or things staying the same (which I prefer.)
On my first visit here in Granada, 2019, I remember passing my first lace shop window, selling the high combs and flowing mantillas, in mostly white and black.
I drew a surprised sigh of relief—even before “Covid”— to see such an expression of provincial traditionalism. The window’s statement was not “Europa/European Union,” but rather: “Spain.”
(The south, in any case.)
Why does this mean so much to me?
Because I believe that folk traditions—family, food, costume, music etc—are all that stands between us and the beast. And I can sense that the beast is planning his final pounce. But so are we.
I was, at the time I started examining these windows, preparing to write a story about the late Vladimir Bukovsky, who exposed the financial tentacles of “communism” and explained in an interview we did, why the “communists” (now Globalists) despise nations.
The two part series which ran in The Epoch Times is here:
(A subscription is required.)
Here is an outtake, about globalism:
The Epoch Times: What do they mean when they say “globalism” and what does the word “globalism” mean to you?
Mr. Bukovsky: They usually mean global governments. A single governing structure over the whole world.
The Epoch Times: Why do they want this? Why do they want one government and why do they hate nations?
Mr. Bukovsky: Nations—if you look at the history of leftism—nations were always perceived as the enemy because they make people unequal. The basic idea of the left from very old time is the equality of people. Anything which makes people different is bad. So, for example, private property, incomes, abilities—it’s all bad. People are supposed to be equal, meaning the same. Therefore, nations are always bad. Nations have different histories, different privileges, different traditions. You can’t make them equal so leftism was always against nations.
The Epoch Times: Why do they love mass immigration in Europe and in the United States? Open borders …
Mr. Bukovsky: Precisely for the same reason, because that helps them to eliminate traditions, the habits accumulated by nations. And make them more and more similar.
Now it’s 2022—at the peak of transgender hysteria in the US and UK, and in fact, though you wouldn’t know it here, it was Pride Month. It was June. And I was looking at this particular window more and more on my evening walks.
I suddenly saw the man’s flamenco attire, as an integral part of, or other half of, the woman’s. I saw how what we call the divine masculine completes the divine feminine and vice-versa. Nothing is “separate.”
In my country, demoralized and guilty, we mostly wear “in between” clothes, dull colors and sacky cuts. We unconsciously salute the Lenin bust; The destruction of “gender norms” that supposedly liberated us, though few of us have drawn a free breath since. We’re swimming for our lives in frigid waters, having to use precious energy, as we paddle, to thank Lenin for the vanishing of that oppressive ship we used to be on.
Well, our grandmothers—
There I stood, gazing at the innocently masculine and feminine Spanish mannequins—half wishing I could be like other people, and keep walking. Have a goal. A schedule.
The sacred world of masculine and feminine, meeting, greeting, joining—I see it as a bridge, in human form. Look at the three people in this Miroc poster, for example. They’re like a song, they all flow together, male and female, supporting one another as a symphonic. Nobody is under.
The urban planners, the postwar banking cartel human engineers—they decided to tear down the man, in order that the woman would tumble after, without much extra effort.
“Feminism.” Always, the cruel twist in the definition. That which is stolen, they credit as having given you.
How can this still be allowed? This simple window.
In the United States, never, ever, not ever. It would not even exist as an idea, to make a shop window like that.
Look at the clothes for a moment—-(Photo #1)
Form flowing—(top left) hat to campera jacket to the iconic ruffles at the bottom of the dress. One continuous wave of form, meaning, story, symbolism, color—containing all the vital and life-giving concessions to power, strength, difference, and harmony two outfits in a window ever could.
“Once upon a time, there was a man, dressed like this, and a woman, dressed like this.”
“They both wanted to be dressed like that, and their culture loved them both, differently, together, enough to help them dress like that. It didn't mean everybody had to dress like that. It didn’t mean girls could not be tomboys, or that boys had to feign machismo.”
Notice the first man’s campera, all the way to the left. It has embroidered….roses. Still, you are asked to believe that but for the liberations of the globalist gender police, men avoided “femininity” in their attire.
They did not dress up as women.
For us women, that feels frankly like the first step to eradication, as in genocide. Like they did the Native Americans—-garb first.
I am not perturbed that some men want to be and dress as women, but I am distressed that it has become a stampeding mass craze.
I’ve never believed the lie that women lacked “power” prior to the “feminist revolution.” I noted how the “women” depicted in that dismaying PSY OP show Sex And The City did not resemble women at all. (A gay man wrote the show.) Women don’t really speak, think, or act like that. They had no intuition, and they were de-contextualized, and often cruel. It’s tragic to think that a show like that would make decent women in other states want to move to New York so they could be ignored and used by “powerful” men.
During this time, in Spain, I’m re-imagining femininity and masculinity, and this theme will recur in future writings. At some point, if you wish, I’ll write about The Nightmare (Covid) again. I’m just truly almost not sure I can survive staring into that abyss any longer.
Here, it’s over.
People wear masks on public transportation—that is it. Other than that, all life is back to normal, along with the code of civility that has always marked this great nation. In fact, I expect Spain never lost that code, even under Covid tyranny.
I’ll avoid traps of social conservatism here; That does not interest me.
Beauty and ancient worlds, the way things once functioned, and could again—this interests me.
How I Became Fascinated With Manolete, Despite The Heartbreak Of Bullfighting
Please don’t get too upset about that very painful issue to read to the end, should you otherwise wish to. This text does not address, or “glorify,” bullfighting, or its violence to beautiful bulls.
Incidentally, our entire (US) culture has become one of unending brutality, sanctioned by Pharma occultism.
I can’t be clear or adamant enough: I oppose bullfighting, if you give me a vote, I vote NO.
At the same time, it’s nowhere near as barbaric as what we will now do as a matter of routine, to American babies. Stab them. Sacrifice them. Their own mothers will hold them down.
But I digress; The thing that had me pondering bullfighting, by way of that window, was Spanish attire and costume, the forms, the names, terms—the hats, capes, both in bullfighting and in Flamenco. How these costumes unite and delight people, allow people to love, celebrate, and come together as one. We are never…given such a chance. None that I am aware of.
I got back to my hotel room and began to look up names of traditional Spanish male costumes.
The Toreador costume is called Traje de Luces, “suit of lights.” The stockings, white cotton, silk on top. The shoes, zapatillos—they’re ballet shoes. They even have a bow.
“Dressed to kill” comes from the tradition of a matador’s squires dressing him, following rituals, before a bullfight.
Fascinated, I skipped dinner.
I sat in bed watching documentaries about Manolete, and even had an intuitive feeling on the cause of his death. (I believe in the bad blood transfusion theory. But why— I do not pretend to know.)
I was curious to know: Why do the toreadors wear those hats, called “monteras” (their assistants wear them too) that have such a very unusual shape. Turns out, it’s supposed to resemble the ears of the bull, with the eye on the top of the head. Here’s Manolete, who was a slight man, from a humble background—considered the greatest bullfighter ever.
The Traje de Luces suggests this: Bullfighting began as a purely aristocratic sport, carried down still in the costumes. The history of dress makes clear that, as with birds, male costumes were often more ornate than women’s.
Hence, the masculine was always an expression of the feminine (containing it) and vice versa.
They destroyed us for no reason.
A special request not to lose sight of the fact that the writer of this opposes all cruelty against all beings. But I can’t think or write about traditional male and female forms of expression through dress without incorporating this.
Not my photo, but do you see what I mean about the language of the cut of the dress or suit? The harmony of gender, dress, hair, decoration, and implicit goodwill, if that’s the right word?
Must everything good be destroyed, because we have dared to be animated and inspired by it?
Lastly, a photo I snapped outside La Catedral on Corpus Christi, June 16.
An ordinary photo—not at all unusual for this part of the world, and yet stunning.
Because they want to be girls.