The Pain of Retreat

My wife and I were watching Vertigo - Hitchcock [1958] last night. The male wardrobe is not really very interesting to me. It's pretty standard late 50s fare. It looks better than 99% of all films made today, but it's not particularly ivy, prep or anything that draws my particular attention. Nevertheless the movie is aesthetically beautiful. San Fransisco in the late 1950s, what a different world. Sometimes when you see California then, or before you remember the reason why so many people moved their long ago.

Old movies often are a place to retreat to. To retreat to a different time when we get sick of our current malaise. Sometimes you are comforted by this place of retreat, or at least I am. I can't imagine I am alone in this. Sometimes they make you feel sane again. Yet, as of late they make me more sad than comforted. Sad, because it's gone. The world becomes more and more repulsive by the day and retreating to the aesthetics and story of old feels less cathartic. The farther we move from that world, and it feels as if we are moving faster and faster everyday, the more painful it is to make the long journey into that time before. Seeing what was more often gives me pain these days. Reminding myself of something that is gone, reminds me of a loss. Where else do we retreat to then? Perhaps nowhere. We must go on.

My outfit today doesn't have anything to do with Vertigo. There are no knit ties in the film, nor OCBDs. The outfit featured here is understated. It is covered, without fanfare, yet present and unchanging. We must go on.