I am through with Geishas

Geishas are obviously the rage. Based on the success of the book and then movie version of Memoirs of a Geisha, and a number of coffee-table books (one of which I picked up), which have beautiful photographs of geisha-life, now you find that the National Geographic has added a third exhibit (to accompany the previously discussed Mongolian and Hawaiian wildlife exhibits), which itself has two parts. One, a set of photographs by a woman named Jodi Cobb of contemporary geishadom. The other, an assortment of beautiful (emphasis on that last word) kimonos belonging to a famous geisha of the first half of the 20th century, Ichimaru (famous if you lived in Japan).

In addition to the delicate beauty of the kimonos, I learned that they are made from a single piece of cloth and that they are taken apart and sown together in one long strip for cleaning. Hard to fathom, but true.

But in any event, I am sure that no matter what I read about geishas, there is always a deeper layer being hidden from me. I don't need the frustration. I am through with geishas.