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- kathleen 1 Comment

KILT OR TUXEDO

What is it about men in kilts or tuxedos that women find so sexy? After all, one is dressed in a skirt while the other is neck-to-ankle in a suit that is rather rigid in its style.

The kilt (the word means to tuck up the clothes around the body) dates back to at least the 16th century, and is not unlike those worn by Celtic warriors during Roman times. Also known as a “plaid”, it was originally a long, full-length swath of material that could be used as a hooded cloak when needed. It didn’t reach its modern stage as a “walking kilt” or “short kilt” until the late 17th or early 18th century.

Outlawed for thirty-five years after the Scots rebellion against the English in 1745, once the law was repealed, the kilt was mainly worn by the military. However, a passion of sorts began to build around the garment. Men went out of their way to proudly wear the plaid of their clan in public as a show of protest against not only the former ban, but also against English rule.

The tuxedo, on the other hand, originated in the U.S. in the late 1800’s. This sleek garment was named after Tuxedo Park, a socially elite enclave in the Upstate New York countryside populated by the wealthiest of Manhattan’s citizens. Fashioned after the British dinner jacket or smoking jacket with a shawl collar, and at the time, always in black, young dandies began showing up at formal events in their new “uniform of the elite.” Soon, it became de rigueur as a means of showing class and money.

While the kilt represented a show of strength, and the power to rebel if need be, the tuxedo represented power in the form of wealth and élan. James Bond often wears a tuxedo, and some of the most popular romance books feature men in kilts, both branding the men as bold and brave, each in its own way. These two uniforms represent a dichotomy of style, but at the same time, appear to be equally sensual and masculine.

Sexy is the man who shows up at an event meticulously dressed in a tuxedo and bow tie, only to become much sexier as the evening wears on when the tie is undone, or the shirt is unbuttoned in increments—a suggestive promise of good things to come.

How sexy is the man who shows up in a full-dress kilt only to toss off the top half of his clothing in a moment of wild abandon? He stands before us wearing nothing but his kilt—and aren’t we viscerally aware that he wears nothing beneath that kilt!

In my third book in the series Those Magnificent Malverns, His Lordship’s Wild Highland Bride, the heroine is a sassy Scottish lass forced to marry an Englishman. While she does wear a gown fashioned from the MacGregor plaid, it is her handsome, rogue of a brother who shows up in a kilt, causing the inquisitive Malvern females to wonder what might lie beneath all that plaid.

He marries for her dowry. She marries to escape a hanging. HIS LORDSHIP’S WILD HIGHLAND BRIDE. http://entangledpublishing.com/his-lordships-wild-highland-bride/

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WHO WAS THAT FIERY SPANISH DANCER?

lola-montez.3While writing Celine, book one in my When Hearts Dare series, I had a scene where the hero and heroine clashed over another woman. The woman couldn’t be anyone they knew. I wanted someone who stood out above all others and thought nothing of brazenly making a play for the hero. The name Lola Montez popped into my mind. I vaguely recalled the name and thought she was some kind of famous Spanish dancer (I was right). I had no idea if she’d ever been to America, let alone New Orleans, or if she’d even lived during the time period of my story (1853). Since I was writing a first draft, I figured I would do the research later and find the right woman to fit my story. To my utter surprise, not only had Lola Montez toured America, she’d passed through New Orleans one time only—the very month and year I had written her into my story!

Lola Montez.1So who was this mysterious lady that caused so much trouble between my hero, heroine, and the hero’s cousin? It didn’t take long into research to learn that this Spanish dancer was no more Spanish than was the Queen of England.

Lola Montez was a stage name for Maria Eliza Gilbert, the Countess of Landsfeld!

How did this woman, born in Ireland in 1821, become an exotic dancer and courtesan? And titled?

Lola, or Eliza, as they called her in her youth, was barely two-years-old when her father, an army ensign, was dispatched to India and took his family along. He died of cholera shortly thereafter. Lola’s mother quickly remarried. Lola’s stepfather adored her, spoiled her, and let her run wild in the streets of India. She became such a handful, she was sent to her stepfather’s family in Scotland, but they couldn’t control the wild little girl from India, so they sent her to an Aunt in England. Hot tempered, uninhibited Lola was soon sent to a private boarding school.

At sixteen, Lola eloped and ended up in back in India, where, five years later, the couple separated. That’s when Mrs. Eliza James changed her name to Lola Montez and became a popular Spanish dancer. Unfortunately, she was recognized and a scandal ensued which prevented her from returning to England.Franz Liszt

Scandal wasn’t about to stop this feisty woman now known for her beauty and quick temper. She departed Calcutta for the Continent where she became a courtesan. In Paris, she met and had an affair with the famous Hungarian composer, Franz Liszt, who introduced her to not only a Bohemian life but to other men, one of which was Alexandre Dumas with whom she carried on a torrid affair while still the mistress of a high-profile newspaper man. When he died, Lola left Paris for Munich.Alexandre Dumas

Not long after, Lola became the mistress of King Ludwig I of Bavaria. He was so smitten with her that he gave her the title Countess of Landsfeld, and granted her a large annuity, much to the chagrin of the King’s people. From 1846 to 1848, Lola seemed to be the power behind the throne until the King abdicated and Lola fled Bavaria for England.King Ludwig I

Once again, she married, but the terms of her divorce from her first husband did not allow remarriage so the newlyweds left England for Spain where her husband allegedly drowned. Alone, Lola sailed to the U.S. where she became popular as a dancer and actress from 1851 to 1853, exactly when I needed her for my story! That year, Lola Montez left the U.S. to perform in Australia, where she married yet again, only to be divorced yet again. Finally, she returned to the U.S. where she passed away at age thirty-nine in Brooklyn, New York in 1861.

If you’re a writer of historical romance reading this account of a scandalous Lola Montez, don’t let anyone tell you that ladies of that era would not do or act in certain ways. Throughout history there were always those who defied society’s rules and danced to their own tune. Lola Montez, Countess Landsfeld was one of those women.

 

 

- kathleen 1 Comment

WHY I WRITE ROMANCE

lovers in blue Society rewards us for practiced thinking by handing us diplomas to tack on our walls. But what of our important feeling nature?

Thinking is what brings about clarity and objectivity in our lives, but only feeling can bring a sense of value and worth to a person. Our self-esteem comes not from what we think of ourselves, but how we “feel” about ourselves. Feeling is the sublime aspect of a man or woman that brings warmth, gentleness, relatedness and perception to a relationship. Feeling is the sublime art of having a value structure and a sense of meaning and belonging. It is the magnetic part of us that attracts love.

knightWe’ve paid a high price for the precise, scientific world we live in where romance novels are often scorned as unrealistic fluff (yet murder mysteries where people are hacked to death or buried alive are considered acceptable, thrilling reading). We’ve ended up with nations of wounded beings where men and women suffer their wounds differently. Typically, men drink or overwork. Women eat and overwork. Men war and abuse. Women retreat and isolate. Research indicates that scientifically-oriented countries are more likely to break out in ecstatic disorientation if the people do not balance their lives with ecstasy through their feeling natures via such endeavors as poetry, music, creativity and romance.

Oops, did I just use that nebulous word romance again?

The first romantic notions of love in western society originated in 12th century France when a new religious movement anointed a female as a religious godhead. The religious observance of the goddess was suppressed and forced underground. Eventually, the movement resurfaced in the courts of kings and queens, where evidence of it could be found in the chivalric reverence for women. Those chivalrous knights of old often fell in love with their queen or princesses, but this romantic love was never consummated because it was considered the myth of love.

Romance had its purpose—it became the first step of the evolution of the spirit of man to truly understand the energy of divine love. Romance in relationships allows us to touch the face of God. Romance and ecstasy mixed, allows us to touch the face of God in stereo!

lovers.moon.silhouette

What mentally healthy person isn’t attracted to love? It is the grand intangible. Romance, ecstasy and love, are so powerful a human drive that they have kindled wars, created works of art, consoled the dying, driven kings mad and bankrupted nations. Love is the vital, pulse-beating feeling nature within us that gives us creativity and a sense of joy. Ultimately, love is the most important aspect of our lives.

My late husband held a double PhD in political science and economics. He spoke six languages. He was quite the intellectual, but he was also an artist and thus, more open to his feeling nature than a lot of men. I asked him to read a romance novel (Joanna Bourne’s The Forbidden Rose). He thought it well written. He said that if men would include these kinds of novels in their reading material, they would understand what women want and how to please them. Yes!

One of the greatest joys a man can experience is honoring a woman by escorting her out of her head, her thinking nature, and into her body, her feeling nature, so that he can pleasure her. One of the many differences between men and women is that a woman needs to feel good to do good while a man needs to do good to feel good (think about that for a while).

Years ago, I founded a successful wellbeing center where I created seminars and retreats to help people live more satisfying, self-empowered lives. I thought that when I finally got around to transferring my works onto the written page that they would take the shape of tutorial-style textbooks, hopefully spiced with a bit of humor. What a surprise when I was finally able to focus on writing, only to dream an entire historical novel one night. What an incredible experience! I realized then that what I really wanted to do was write humorous, sad, sensuous, romantic, ecstatic stories (The Seduction of Sarah Marks, the book I dreamed in its entirety, became my first published novel).

When I began to write historical romance, I discovered that I had unknowingly laid out all that I had been teaching in my wellbeing center about heightened senses, the purpose of our lives, destiny, self-empowerment, and the act of loving ourselves and others. Writing romance gives me the perfect venue for expressing the full spectrum of the human condition.

richard armitage.kiss

- kathleen 92 Comments

Women’s Clothing in Communist Hungary

What a thrilling experience being a 2012 Golden Heart® finalist has been so far! And as I journey toward the Romance Writers of American® National Conference in Anaheim, California this coming July, the excitement builds. I belong to an online group of finalists where we share news, build friendships, and glean information from those who’ve traveled the Golden Heart® road before us. What kind of clothing should we consider was one of the first questions raised, especially with regards to the formal awards ceremony where the Rita® and Golden Heart® finalists will be honored and the winners announced (truly, we’ve all won just by being nominated).

For the most part, the conference calls for business casual, except for a few cocktail parties and the awards ceremony with over two thousand people in attendance. It’s those dressier events that have me thinking about what to pack for the long trip. Particularly since I live and shop in Budapest, where vestiges of the old communist way of life still lingers—in little ways and in some big ways (one of which is how business is structured—very odd for a westerner, like being handed a square wheel).

Even though there are several large and very modern shopping centers in the city, I don’t particularly care for the style of evening wear available. There are basically three ways to go: Expensive, over-the-top designer fashions found in the upscale shops along touristy Vaci Utca, or daring little bits of cloth for the younger woman in trendy shops, or rather matronly-looking clothing.

What to do?

Recently, I was lamenting my dilemma while at my regular Thursday coffee with my international group of women friends. Jane suggested I catch the train to Vienna for some great non-stop shopping. Oh, I’d dread doing that. It’s only a 2 1/2 hour train ride, but ever since my younger days, working as a sales rep for Clairol Corporation and hoofing it in and out of stores all day long, I detest shopping, particularly running around to unfamiliar shops.

Another acquaintance, an Australian married to a Hungarian, suggested I find a photo of something I like and she’d refer me to a Hungarian dressmaker.

I wrinkled my nose. “Have something stitched up?”

“These dressmakers can copy anything,” Marilena said. “Back in communist times they had to make everything. They’re so good at it, you won’t be able to tell from the original.”

“Why did they have to make their own?” I asked.

Another woman, a Canadian, who has lived in pretty much every corner of the world said, “Because, until after the 1956 revolution, there were no dress shops for women.”

What? Now there’s something I never thought about having to do with political regimes. No clothing stores for women?

She went on to explain that retail clothing stores were only for men until the 1956 upsrising against communist control changed a few things.

That was even more puzzling. What did the revolution have to do with women’s clothing?

 My friend said that even though the Russians sent in an army of tanks and beat the dickens out of the city and its people, a strong message was sent to Moscow that Hungarians were willing to fight to their death against oppression. So, while freedom was still not theirs to be had, a slightly different kind of communism arose. It was given the nickname “goulash-communism.” From then on, Hungarians lived under a more liberal political umbrella than did other Russian satellite countries (but don’t be fooled into thinking spying, cruelty and oppression fell by the wayside. It did not).

One eventual change was the opening of women’s clothing stores. A woman no longer had to make her own garments or hire someone to do it for her. The trouble was, there was only one dress pattern! That’s right, in the entire country of Hungary only one ready-made style was available. And according to my Canadian friend Jackie, who lived here at the time, it wasn’t a pretty sight.

But wait…there’s more.

One boring design wasn’t the worst of it. Each size was one color! So, say you wore a size eight and you ventured into a clothing store, you could only get that one dreary style in orange. Size ten? You’d get the same lackluster rag in black. Size twelve? You’d get green. And so on.

Frightfully thoughtful of those bureaucrats in Moscow, wasn’t it?

No wonder women’s fashion magazines were smuggled in from the west. No wonder dressmakers were so good at copying anything from a picture and remain able to do so to this day.

Then the wall came down in 1989 and communism was no more.

Freedom!

And free enterprise.

And the British.

They came in droves. They opened up pubs—English, Irish and Scottish. And used clothing stores. Just as they shipped in Guinness and good Scotch whisky, they shipped in second-hand garments by the ton. To this day, pubs thrive in lively Budapest, and you can still see those same used clothing stores everywhere with a colorful British flag emblazoned on the front window.

Yes, I’m busy hunting for evening wear for the RWA® awards ceremony. Or should I say, I’m in the fabric stores hunting down the prettiest fabric I can find, and I’m on the internet looking for a photo of something I favor. My friend has the dressmaker lined up. I can hardly wait.

Or maybe I should have booked my flight into the U.S. a week earlier.

What about you, do you have any fun stories about shopping for something special?

- kathleen 26 Comments

Historical Thermal Baths

As mentioned in previous blogs, I currently reside in beautiful Budapest. For how long, I don’t know, but while I’m here, I’ve been making the best of it.

Making the best of it?

OMG, what an understatement!

Budapest is such an amazing city that merely stepping out my front door means a remarkable day is in the making. If it weren’t enough that my tree-lined street is an enclave unto its own—venerable buildings adorned with statues and all manner of baroque ornamentation, a post office, hair salons, vegetable stands, restaurants, pubs, super market—a couple hundred feet to my right is a trolley stop. Climbing into one of those finicky communist era transports and I’m minutes from connecting to all the efficient public transportation I need.

Turn left out my front door, walk to the end of the block, and there I am, in City Park.

What a grand place!

There’s the castle I referred to in a previous blog (photos two blogs down), a lake, a Skating Palace (in summer the water is used for boating), Heroes Square, museums, restaurants, a zoo, and those famous thermal baths.

Did I say thermal baths?

Oh, yeah.

Front entrance to Szechenyi Baths

Budapest sits on a huge underground thermal lake so the city is thick with Turkish baths, some of which date back centuries (one has been operating since the 1600’s). Stepping into some of them is like stepping into an Ottoman Palace for bathing.

My favorite is the Szechenyi Baths, one of the largest complexes in Europe. And glory be, if it isn’t located in the park right down the street from me. A leisurely stroll and there I am, inside a grand neo-Baroque building, circa 1881. Exquisite.

There are indoor pools and outdoor pools at Szechenyi—fifteen to be exact, one of them being an Olympic size pool kept at swimming temperature. My favorite is the huge outdoor pool that roils with clouds of steam when the hot thermal air connects with the icy air in winter.

Public baths are cheap in Hungary, even cheaper if you have a doctor’s prescription for things such as an ailing back. For about twelve dollars you can while away an entire day. My favorite time in summer is late afternoon where we laze around until the sun sets and the palace lights up.

A steamy night at the baths

 

Masseuses will crank your muscles every which way for not much money, and there’s a bar there should you thirst for anything from water to mixed drinks.

Listen in on conversation around you and you’ll hear a cacophony of languages. People come to Budapest from all over the world, some just for the baths. I once met two Americans and started up a chat (not very difficult for me to do, hehehe). Turns out the men have been friends since elementary school. One is a pilot, the other an officer in the military stationed in the Middle East. They arrange for their R&R’s in Budapest and take the baths on every trip.

Budapest should be on everyone’s bucket list make that “to see” list (I really don’t care for the other phrasing). What a city!

Where’s your favorite city or what city have you visited that has its special magic?

If you have time, take a look at this website with all the photos of Szechenyi Baths. http://www.budapestgyogyfurdoi.hu/en/szechenyi/virtual_tour#

Szechenyi Baths