"Are you wondering what this mamarracha is doing dressed like this on a night of luxury and splendor?" In this forceful way, Blanca Portillo started her speech of thanks after having received the Málaga Sur Award in this edition of the Malaga Festival. In jeans and T-shirt, the actress introduced herself as "a 59-year-old woman who, most of the time, is afraid and cold who desperately needs love and support; who prefers jeans to evening gowns, beers with friends to holiday champagne, who prefers love to admiration."
To me, the truth, when I saw the video of that moment, it did not seem to me that Blanca Portillo's outfit was out of tune at all and, far from it, the word mamarracha came to my mind to define it. Moreover, I think that, for the first time in my life, I felt absolutely identified with clothing but, even more, with the feeling of a woman who was "stripped of luxuries and disguises, without additives or preservatives" but, above all, emotionally naked.
Her image and her words 'touched the potato' as much (or more) thanLady Gaga's performance at the Oscars, without makeup (visible), in a t-shirt and jeans ... Stripped, too, of the luxuries, costumes, additives and preservatives typical of the gala.
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I know, from the comments on social media, that Portillo's styling was not received by everyone with the same enthusiasm as mine, that he was branded as inappropriate and I don't know what else. Maybe it was. But I, the truth, always questioned those 'laws of etiquette' that impose a series of golden rules with a sting of mothballs to 'look good'.
I confess that, when I review the images of those delicious red carpet galleries and official acts with which my partner Beatriz Miranda gives us, what I usually think is what my feet would hurt with those heels (not to mention how badly I would walk); the cold that would pass with that shortage of fabric; How strange I would look with that layer of makeup and how complicated it would be for me not to scratch my head with so much dressing and so much lacquer.
I know there are times for everything. Respect for those who enjoy the ritual of 'sheet metal and paint' and whatever is necessary. I admire 'their resilience,' their ability to adapt to breath-taking corsets; 'tops' that restrict mobility at the sphinx level or shoes anatomically designed to cause Morton's neuromas. I am amazed by her patience to endure makeup and hairdressing sessions. Also his temperance so as not to rub his eyes, touch his hair or bite his lips for hours.
That's not what I'm good for. What's more, I've never been too dazzled by this waste of "additives and preservatives." That is why, in this world of so much artifice and so much mask, seeing Blanca Portillo go out to collect her prize in jeans and with her face washed did not surprise me; It gave me relief. It comforted me because what the body cries out for is more naturalness. More movement. More freshness. And that, as Portillo said in his speech, we talk more about people and less about 'dressings'. If that is to be a mamarracha, the RAE could still consider a new meaning for the word: person who is shown as he is.
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