My Aunt Sophie was the hip, single aunt my parents were always lecturing. What I remember most was when Aunt Sophie would stop by at night and come into my room to tell a bedtime story, usually a twisted version of a fairy tale.
She would perch on the bench by the open window. Cigarette in one hand, blowing smoke outside. My parents, non-smokers would have kicked her bleached blond, mini skirt wearing butt if they had known.
Cinderella went to the ball alright, but wound up making out with Prince Charming in some closet somewhere. Aunt Sophie would toss her hair and stare out into the night, smiling.
I imagine now most of the “fairy tales” she told were actually taken from her single dating life. It was after all the 70’s.
Looking back on Aunt Sophie’s stories there’s one thing I find mildly disturbing, the story she told me about Snow White seducing the dwarfs? I try not to think about that one too much. If she was Cinderella, she was probably Snow White too.
Images courtesy Rodrigo Lazzarini.
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