Nana Abuladze - J for Jenny
She wore clothes that were loose and too large for her. The clothes would disguise her terrifying beauty, while her endless experiments with the hairstyle would make her appearance vulgar.
“I like being stylish,” once she told me, “That’s fun.”
I replied that I was too lazy for experimenting with the way I looked. In fact, though, I was too coward. I wore trousers and T-shirts that made me invisible. I didn’t want anyone to recognize my body as that of a woman, as an object of lust. So, we both covered our beauty, but she did it because she didn’t care about it and I did it because I was ashamed of it. Well, I am a girl, I thought that I had to.
Leaving earlier on that day she teased me:
“Wanna be on my place, ha?”
I pretended to be working and acted as if I hadn’t paid much attention to her sarcasm. She, however, realized instantly that it had made me upset. She came to me and, leaning her head against mine, said:
“Aww, sorry, I didn’t mean to.” – A child-like frankness.
This was it – the moment I fell for her.