“Dressing Down”

ARGENTINA Through Harold’s Lens:

My head spun a Charlie McCarthy 360!

Gorgeous face. My Nikon searched for my left eye.

Click. Click. Click.

She whisked by me dressed down in old Bohemian fabrics.

Click. Click. Click.

Her moving red lips said “Thank you”.

I could not resist. “You are so beautiful you should be a model in the Buenos Aires Fashion Week”.

“I am one of the Fashion Week models”, she whispered.

With curiosity I asked “Why are you dressed so casually, so Bohemian?” “I’m trying to be incognito in Buenos Aires. These Latin men are, let’s just say, a bit assertive”. At the fashion shows in Paris, New York and Milan, the men give us some distance”.

A new experience for me. Wrapping your body in fabrics is an art onto itself. Wrapping yourself to decrease attention? It didn’t work with me! My Nikon captured her.

Argentina: “Italian Tap”

ARGENTINA Through Harold’s Lens:

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

From only six feet away I hypnotically watched the tan pointed Italian shoe anxiously move up and down. The seated young man’s movements were putting me into a trance. A weird mental state. From his outdoor cafe chair, he scanned the woman’s store fronts of fashion around him.

Tap. Tap. Tap.
Was he on drugs?

Tap. Tap. Tap.
Was he waiting for a drop?

Tap. Tap. Tap.
What was up?
Scan the store fronts again.

Tap. Tap. Tap.
Look up.
Look down.

Tap. Tap. Tap.
A lanky red head, in a red mini at upper thigh hovering on top of 6” spikes, walked up to him carrying four shopping bags. He stood. They held hands. Walked away. Interesting to watch a man while his gal is shopping for women’s clothes.

“Sexy Wrap”

ARGENTINA Through Harold’s Lens:

Blackness enveloped our private cabin deep in the Argentina woods.

Soft pine branches brushed the roof. Candles flickered their specs of light off a crushed leather sofa. Pine logs crackled in the fireplace.

The soft, soothing sounds of Love Me Tender. The King!

I sat on the warm animal skin rug in front of the glow. A bottle of red. Uncorked. Two crystal wine glasses. Where were you?

Slowly, from the darkened doorway, your long tanned legs first appeared. Barefoot. Slinking, you walked towards me. Arms surrounding a tan, deeply furred wrap across your bare upper body. Yellow necklace tucked into cleavage.

Slowly you sat down besides me.

Fade to black.

“Snappy You”

ARGENTINA Through Harold’s Lens:

I know you well, beautiful.

You dream of strolling through the sumptuous markets of fabrics and fashion.

Down the exotic avenues of boutiques filled with fibers to snuggle, wear and wrap around your body.

Floating in a world of exotic fibers of the most varied origin.

Delicious Latin men turn their heads.

The sexy Tango on the corner summons your presence.

Buenos Aires beckons you.

Selected as the main photograph by poet Felicity Ann Mcinnes in her sensuous poetry series “The Lusts of Man”.

“Rawhide”

ARGENTINA Through Harold’s Lens:

Armoas of rich, subtle leather products surround me.

Leather stores by the hundreds.

Leather products by the thousands.

Rainbows after rainbows of multiple colors. Full-grain. Top-grain. Corrected-grain. Split. Buckskin. Patent. Vachetta. Slink. Deerskin. Nubuck and Napa.

Boots to the knee, bags off the shoulder, jackets slim and snug, pants hugging buns, skirts swishing air, totes, backpacks, belts, wallets, pouches… all sanded, buffed or snuffed.

A world capital of leather.

“You dashing dude you”, Rita said as I strutted away in my new custom leather jacket.

“What’s Up?”

ARGENTINA Through Harold’s Lens:

Sunday.

Streets are closed to auto traffic in the Buenos Aires neighborhood of San Telmo.

It’s a bizarre time!

Artisans, musicians, street performers and antique vendors from near and far are here to share their treasures and their talents with the public.

People of all nationalities are wandering, walking, strolling, gawking. It’s a unique and alluring experience.

Over here, there’s something weird happening.

Over there, what is that woman doing?

Where’s the reggae music coming from?

Sundays in San Telmo just go with the flow.

“Free Spirit”

ARGENTINA Through Harold’s Lens:

Livin’ life with an easy breeze.

Floatin’ through time to the sounds of your own tunes.

Feelin’ the free spirit of liberty.

“Hi there”,
She says as she breezes by.

Don’t you just love it?
I do!
You go for it gal!!!

Sundays in the Buenos Aires neighborhood of San Telmo are sweet.

“What’s Your Name?”

ARGENTINA Through Harold’s Lens:

“What’s your name”, she said.

I turned,
“Harold”.

Smiling,
“I see you are a photographer”.

I warmly replied “Yes, I enjoy life with my camera”.

Slinking a slow snaky turn she whispered
“I am a model.
Would you like to take my photograph?”.

“Thank you.
You are beautiful
I would love to”
I beamed.

Move.
Click. Click. Click.

Move.
Click. Click. Click.

Move.
Click. Click. Click.

“Hey, what the hell are you doing?”, the man yelled. I have a photo shoot going here and I am paying her by the hour.

She winked. I winked and walked away.

What’s a travel photographer to do?

“Really My Dear!”

ARGENTINA Through Harold’s Lens:

Gossip
About the personal and private affairs of others
Has been going on
For centuries.

“Stoned?”

ARGENTINA Through Harold’s Lens:

Never know!

Who cares!

In the middle of the San Telmo neighborhood, sitting in the middle of the street, dressed to the hilt, smothered in white powder, he remained stone motionless. A full tin cup of pesos by his side.

Many tried to get him to move, wiggle or blink.

I wondered how he emptied the tin cup.