Walking Nina

I shall never forget the weekend Laura died. A silver sun burned through the sky like a huge magnifying glass. It was the hottest Sunday in my recollection. I felt as if I were the only human being left in New York. For with Laura's horrible death, I was alone.

In the Latin beat rhythms one can marvel again at Hayworth's hypnotic force as a dancer. She enters through a door, drawn by the beat of male drummers, dressed in a clinging white two-piece that accentuates her body through the provocative forward thrust of her torso- a stance that is an invitation and a promise, and has become a trademark, like her hair. Where most dancers move from the hips down Hayworth moves from the knees up, her shoulders drawn back projecting her breast cage forward in the most enticing manner. To see her is to experience a sense of joy pure and simple. And all the more potent for being an invitation in the dark. -John Kobal

And by the way, there's a name for you ladies, but it isn't used in high society - outside of a kennel.

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