The immortal Emmanuelle.
If you’re my vintage, ‘Emmanuelle‘ is a mythical film. It came out when I was 8 or 9 but as I grew into my teens, it became a by-word for sexy ladies, NOT WEARING ANY CLOTHES, being sexy – sometimes with each other! Whaaaaat?
Being pre-cyberwent, us teenage lads could only dream of witnessing such high-class masturbatory fodder as this. You bloody kids nowadays – the minute something’s filmed, some bleeder sticks it up on YouTube. Where’s the mystery in that? Where’s the thrill of discovering hedgerow porn mags? Cuh!
But back in the ’70s and ’80s, our access to images of naked ladies was very limited. I remember going to see my first X-film (Russ Meyer’s ‘Up!’) and putting on my best deep voice to buy the ticket. At the time I assumed I was a master of disguise and had cunningly outwitted the hawklike ticket woman. In retrospect, I was just another randy 14-year-old lad helping to pay her wages.
I never got to see ‘Emmanuelle’ till years later. I was a lot older and had even done it with a lady and everyfink. Yet I was still shocked and entraced by Sylvia Kristel’s numinous, crystalline beauty. Every scene she was in, clothed or nude, she was absolutely magnetic. She was so pretty that I cried inside.
So, this post is a very-belated salute to Sylvia Kristel. Thank you for powering a generation of teenage boys’ feverish wanks and foolish romantic daydreams. Thank you for your daring and sensuality.
Thank you for being beautiful.