Desfolhada
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I was talking today with someone that told me about their recent visit to D. Maria theater in Lisbon. It "clicked" in my head... I visited many times this place of portuguese's culture. I've never seen a play in there... But I ran on those backstages from top to top many times! I used to go with someone I later came to call my "borrowed grandma". Beautiful lady, from inside out, Friend with an huge "F", and that used to bring me from times to times to these magical places from the show biz. She was a seamstress, but she didn't make clothes. She did the theater's curtains (those that are opened to show the imaginery that the sets try to illustrate). She also did those big cloth commercials that in those times the cinemas and theaters used to show what was on.
Foi numa dessas vezes vi, a medo e só da porta, o camarim da Simone de Oliveira... Não toquei em nada, era como se estivesse a olhar para um museu! E nunca me esqueci desse momento.
It was in one of those times that I saw, with fear and only from the door, Simone de Oliveira's dressing room... I didn't touch anything, it was as if it was a museum! And I never forgot that moment.
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But the place where I loved to get lost in was the seamstress's office. The one that made the clothes... There were dozens of hangers bigger than me, with hundreds of costumes that the actors used at the time, used before and would use someday...
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And now I have stuck in my head "A Desfolhada". Music that Simone sang in the portuguese song contest in 1969. Strong, provocative, and that, still today, gives the chills.
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