Aaron Taylor-Johnson at the KRAVEN THE HUNTER London Photo Call
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We’re sorry to have to do this to you, Aaron Taylor-Johnson, but we’re
afraid we have no choice in the matter. It is time for us to invoke the
ancient bl...
Jun 14, 2006
The Woman in White
The other day, at a Dollar Tree, I found myself behind a middle aged black woman, dressed all in white---white shoes, white socks, long white dress, and, most notably, white wig.
The wig, of course, was the most notable part of the costume.
I was very excited, to be that close to it, to finally get the chance to examine it in person.
You see, I had seen this wig before....
nearly every day, in fact, driving home down Carrollton Avenue, before the deluge.
She was hard to miss, waiting for the bus, getting off the bus, rushing to the bus, rushing from the bus, blinding white wig flashing in the sunlight.
The wig was more than just white, however, it looked homemade. I know you're probably thinking, "a homemade wig?"
Exactly.
But it was. Up close I could confirm it. It looked like a hank of white yarn, sewn crudely down the middle for a part, and pulled back into a bun. Like wearing a mop head on your head, in 100 degree weather.
Still, I had to admire her ingenuity.
Now, a woman who wears only white, nothing but white, all the time, every day, is notable, but a woman with a white yarn wig on, well, that's something else.
And two women in white yarn wigs is even more amazing.
Yes, there are at least two such women. I saw another just recently waiting for the bus (naturally). She was a bit younger than the first (daughter?)
I had to hypothesize that it's a cult, or at least it should be.
I mean, why else, besides it being God's divine will, would anyone wear a white yarn wig in New Orleans in June?
Now despite the fact that she was maniacally whispering to herself the whole while she wandered the dollar store, (attracting the attention of the manager) and even while she paid her three quarters and 25 pennies...for one pair of white socks at the dollar store, I was glad to see her.
It comforts me somehow to see that she has not disappeared in the floods.
She has only, like the rest of us freaks, moved to the Westbank.
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