Finding Frida Kahlo

So when did my epic, whirlwind love affair with Miss Kahlo begin? I came across her while reading something for an art history class (that I most likely flunked out of, especially if there was group work involved.) It was actually Diego Rivera’s name that popped up, somewhere between the Venus of Willendorf’s bodacious ass cheeks and Andy Warhol’s crazy Einstein-esque hairdo. I didn’t like Diego’s paintings. They looked, to my untrained eye, like they should be lining the halls of a 3-star resort in Cancun. Or maybe just 2-stars. Later, I came to appreciate him for the celebrated muralist he is, but 19 year-old me was far more interested in the phrase “married to the artist Frida Kahlo.” 

I’ve always been fascinated with historical rebels. If I could have majored in “unconventional women in history” I would have gotten my Ph.D. long ago. Anne Boleyn, Princess Ka’iulani and Kristina of Sweden are a few of my personal favourites (side note: please indulge that extra “u” as a little piece of Canadiana). Anyways, I saw Frida’s paintings for the first time and they instantly felt like home. It was like they’d been hanging in my childhood living room. Like I’d passed by them every day for 19 years on my quest for a morning bowl of Fruit Loops. I instantly felt like they were an integral part of my existence. 

Trust me, discovering this unibrowed, mustachioed, ruby-lipped goddess blew my university educated mind. It took years before I realized why I’d been so attracted to her in the first place. At the time, I was suffering from a severe lack of self-esteem and I was desperate for assurance. I looked at Frida and knew it would be ok. Her paintings looked like truth. I could trust her, and I don't trust anybody. In fact, Frida’s beauty resonated with me so strongly that I was no longer tethered to that narrow, media defined idea of what is beautiful. I had my own definition of beauty now and she was magnificent.

Look at her. She's still like nothing I've ever seen before. When I was 19, she was so ethereal and strange. Like looking at an Amazonian warrior woman who somehow survived, untouched by society, into the 20th century. It was love at first sight.