Since 1985, in various formats, SLANT -- an independent voice based in Richmond's Fan District -- has offered its readers original commentary on politics and popular culture, including cartoons and selected sundries. Warning: Sometimes that means satirical content. All rights are reserved.
Although Susan was certainly an attractive woman, she wasn't exactly the sort of striking brunette likely to grace the cover of a glossy fashion magazine. On the other hand, when she walked across an area, eyes tended to follow her.
Put simply, Susan had a great walk. Her gait wasn't particularly fast or slow, it didn't seem affected. Her slender limbs were long. Her wrists were loose. The sway of her hips was natural, not exaggerated. Her steps had a rather light-on-her-feet confidence, like a trained dancer.
In a word, Susan "glided." She was a part-time cashier at the Biograph Theatre (in Richmond) for some five months during that repertory cinema's first year of operation (1972). She was a full-time VCU student.
Although I can't recall anything unusual happening to mark the occasion, for some reason I clearly remember a brief scene in which I noticed that everyone -- maybe 10 people -- standing in the lobby seemed totally enthralled, watching her walk across the room. It felt like living in a movie.
In those days I tended to collect such scenes for my imaginary movie. When something caught my eye I would commit it to memory, so I could one day put a scene fashioned after it in a film that I would make. While the movie was never made, some of those saved precious memories still linger.
In a lot of moving pictures that have a people watching an attractive woman walking scene, it's all about her projected sex appeal. Frequently it's played as campy. Think Fellini. Which is not at all like the scene I'm remembering in the Biograph's lobby. In my scene the woman is smooth and aloof.