"Summertime" is one of my favorite movies.
You've probably seen it, too. It's a wonderful vintage film. Katharine Hepburn plays an older single woman from the Midwest who spends her summer vacation in Venice and falls madly in love. She's a proper office worker from Ohio. He's a breathtakingly handsome Italian played by Rossano Brazzi who, in my heart, is the eternal flame I will always fan.
Jane meets Renato. Venezia sizzles.
The movie is deliciously sad. Of course.
The heroine's summer is completely ruined when she leaves behind her gorgeous lover. She decides she cannot be his mistress. Of course.
He's married. Of course. Lots of kids, too, who don't mind mistresses but wouldn't like the Ohio school system.
This affair has all the requisite dangers: Passionate love. Heartbreaking loss. Even bouquets of gardenias that fall into Italian canals and float oh-so-outta-reach.
The movie makes me laugh, cry, dream, want to learn Italian and long to be in Venice. But, most of all, "Summertime" inspires me to dance.
Betcha didn't see that coming! Let me explain.
Every time I watch "Summertime" -- and it's usually at the beginning of summer each year that I replay it -- I fall in love with the clothes the Great Hepburn wears. The ensembles are memorable because they are designed to look long and lean, just like the actress herself.
The skirts are all ballerina length. Mid-calf. Each hemline reaches half-way between knee and toe, encouraging the yards of expensive fabrics to swing and sway as Katharine Hepburn commands. She glides through every scene. I always expect her to twirl, passé, jette, whirl, plié and land with complete control, just as she does on screen when she falls into a canal and exits dripping wet, humiliated and Oscar-worthy.
I consider each outfit my personal invitation to dance, with or without Renato as my partner.
I love the look. I guess you'd call it ballerina style. So, of course, I'm drawn to it. I cannot resist the flowing curves of a romantic, tutu-ish sundress. It doesn't quite reach your toes and can be worn either jumping into a canal or sipping espresso in a Venetian cafe. You can also wear it while alighting a train. Remember Hepburn's quick get-away at the Venice railway station when she dumped her Italian lover and headed back to Ohio? I wonder if that ballerina-length coat kept her warm through those cold Ohio winters.
Leaving Renato/Rosanno was the right thing to do. I guess.
As I've said before, there's just something about "Summertime" and summer time, in general, that brings out the ballerina in me.
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