Zsa Zsa Gabor

Zsa Zsa Gabor, who died earlier this month at the age of 99, was larger than life and no shrinking violet.  She will be remembered, among many things, for her flamboyant life style, blond hair and acerbic comments on marriage and men.

Unlike the photo accompanying this post, I always think of Zsa Zsa as wearing black velvet dresses with a revealing décolletage  and, of course, that inimitable accent.

I also associate her with an evening in a hotel restaurant in Moscow in 1990; the word restaurant is big stretch of the imagination.  As guests in the hotel, two of us fronted up to the dining room to find it in darkness and we were told in no uncertain manner the dining room was closed and the unspoken idea was quite simple.  The management did not care whether we ate or where we that evening; it was our problem, not their problem.

Regrouping, we joined forces with an American couple and en masse, fronted the restaurant manager again.  This time the husband of the American couple took charge of proceedings and our obstinate attitude and his persuasion won the day.  

We were shown to an area at the far end of the restaurant, behind a black curtain. Here another group, the men wearing uniforms of varying colours, were seated at a long table.  They were obviously very important people, food was served to the table at regular intervals and the liquor flowed. We smiled and nodded obsequiously in their direction and our reward was a bottle of champagne. 

Time passed, speeches were made and we speculated on the speech content and who the bemedalled and uniformed men might represent.  We also speculated about the three women in the group.  Two of the women stood and moved alongside the man at the head of the table, where they commenced to sing songs of nostalgia, longing and tragedy.

They were buxom women, wearing full length black velvet dresses with a very revealing décolletage. Their long blond hair was swept up and fastened on top of their heads and pearl necklaces adorned the décolletage; the instant they began to sing in heavily accented voices, I thought of the Gabor sisters.

From that moment until today, when I hear or read about the Gabor sisters, I immediately recall that evening in the Belgrade Hotel in Moscow.