The Healing Powers of Hepburn

Art by Cecila Sanchez

 When I say Hepburn I refer to Audrey Hepburn first and Katharine second. Both of them are my imaginary best friends in their unique ways though truly Audrey was my first love. When I was younger I watched her movies over and over in an almost religious fashion. And over five years ago when I went through my first heartbreak over my first love I probably watched Breakfast at Tiffany's at least four times a week. Even if I was sometimes awoken by the party scene when Audrey yells "TIMBERRR!" as Mag Wildwood drunkenly falls to the floor with a resounding thunk, the melodies of Henry Mancini lulled me to sleep and comforted me. Something about Audrey Hepburn being graceful and beautiful and silly. Her simple glamour, her spirit. This legendary woman I never met who lived through WWII as a child and transported messages to the Allies and ate bread made of grass and studied ballet but became a movie star. She was famous but she seemed like a friend. A beautiful friend who picked me up and told me to walk out the door looking fabulous and somehow everything would be okay. Strange that a movie star, portraying a character in a movie, could somehow cheer me up the way people I knew in real life couldn't.

And today, when I didn't want to get out of bed, I put on Breakfast at Tiffany's again. The notes of Moon River, her back to the camera, her giant hair. Givenchy. One of the most beautiful dresses ever designed. This beautiful woman. This imperfect character, all alone, eating a Danish. And suddenly, again, I know everything's going to be all right. Somehow. It's a piece of art. A piece of fiction. It's Hollywood and it's "just" a movie...but something about it is my gospel, and I am forever thankful for the fantasies that get me out of bed each day. I'm going to go put on some make up and go to work. I hope whoever reads this is having a lovely day. I'm going to be okay, and so are you.