An Audrey Kind of Day (and Poster Shop Madness)

First of all, it occurred to me that I've never posted a smidgen of material on everyone's favorite sweetheart, the divine Audrey Hepburn. What better time to do so than on a day when everything around me was begging that I pay attention to her?

First, I visited a poster store in search of a smaller-sized print of the original "Brokeback Mountain" one-sheet (you know, the one that takes its cue from "Titanic"'s layout). You see, I'm decorating the office of my new apartment -- one of many projects that have kept me from putting up new Movie Buddy posts -- and only a select few images will do. I didn't find what I was looking for, but I did find a virtual Audrey shrine -- big posters, small posters, postR cards, books and more, all bearing iconic photos like the one above.

Aside: Though Audrey's likeness surely took top-billing in the small shop, the icon was surrounded by all the usual, wall-mounted suspects: Elvis, Marilyn, Frank, James Dean, Bob Marley, Tony Montana, Tyler Durden, Andy Warhol and Andy Warhol's work. Have you ever noticed that about poster-sellers? Of course you have. Tough toodles if you're looking for something even moderately unique, because every graphic print purveyor in America has programmed the masses to be obsessed with a limited list of about ten pop culture personalities. If you feel like deviating from those ten, there's the college dorm room subset of "Donnie Darko," "Requiem for a Dream (admittedly an amazing poster)," "The Boondock Saints," "Dazed and Confused," "The Godfather," "Animal House," "Batman," "Star Wars," and, of course, "Twilight," Twilight," Twilight." In the mood for a rare indie's cover art or a signed headshot of Meryl Streep? Sick to death of seeing Al Pacino on a dollar bill with a cigar in his mouth? Too bad, kids. That's what the internet is for. I know, it sucks. (End Aside.)

Anyway, when I got home (empty-handed), I found an envelope that had come in the mail. It was from my mother, who apparently will be sending me something every week now that I've moved out of her house. I opened it, pulled the card out slowly, and who was staring back at me? Audrey Hepburn. With her hair done up perfectly, her pearl necklace gleaming, her dainty cigarette darting out of frame and her devious smile, she seemed to whisper: "you can't escape me." I gave a loud chuckle, went into the office, and placed the card on a book shelf. It'll look great next to that "Brokeback" poster, which I still need to order online.