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Bena Clothing
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Bena, meaning the little one.
Female
100 years old
London and South East
United Kingdom
Last Login: 5/28/2009
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Pics
| Gifts
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Bena Clothing's Details
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| Status: | Single | | Zodiac Sign: | Scorpio |
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Bena Clothing's Blurbs |
About me:
Blue night skies smiled down on a house with a garden with a bay leaf tree there lived a little girl named Anita, whose parents were from far far away… Darasalam and Zanzibar.
Anita’s house was a very pretty and magical place with cockerels and a goat to eat the nettles and take for walks to the park. The house was apple-scented from their apple tree and Anita could hear the gentle sound of the nearby freshwater stream each morning as she rose to greet the weeping willow at her window.
The little girl was full of restlessness and curiosity. She liked exploring and collecting things and playing. Most of all she liked playing hide-and-seek and making presents.
One day little Anita and her friend, the music man’s son (The music man owned a reggae shop and Anita’s father owned the clock shop underneath) were playing hide-and-seek while their fathers were working. Anita’s favourite hiding place was underneath a giant horse chestnut tree, which was like a cave blocking out the sunlight. The music man’s son knew that was her favourite hiding place, so he found her every time.
“Anita, this is getting boring, lets play another game. Ooooh Kaaay?” the music man’s son said sighing. Anita rolled her eyes and giggled cheekily. “Come on!” She said, dragging the music man’s son by the arm to find something better to do.
Up in the loft of the magical house Anita had made a mess. “Anita, what on earth are we going to do here? Ah-choo!” He said sneezing.
“Just shoosh and see,” Anita said calmly
“Now close your eyes young man. Close your eyes and I’m going to give you a big surprise.” He did as Anita instructed but then decided he didn’t trust her, so opened his eyes immediately, but Anita had disappeared.
“Anita, you stupid girl, where are you?! I’m going home now if you don’t come out from wherever you are! 1…2…3… OK!! Bye!! I’m leaving you! You weird girl!” And with that he was gone.
But so was Anita. Gone into a world she made inside a cardboard box. Little Anita had created a design factory where she could let her imagination run wild and not be disturbed. She made birthday presents and Christmas presents and just-for-the-hell-of-it presents from all the bits and bobs she collected from inside the hollows of old trees, from along the freshwater stream, from school, from her dad’s shop, from music man’s attic, from her old ladybird story books and old movie tickets.
Anita would get lost inside the cardboard world for hours and hours until one day she realised she had made too many presents and didn’t know enough people to give them to. AND Anita had grown up inside the cardboard box without realising it. She was no longer a little girl. She was a grown-up!
She went outside with all the presents she’d made: bags, purses, sweaters with giraffes embroidered on them, brooches and plenty more besides that. She got on a train to London where the people, she heard, were into collecting things too. But because they were too lazy to go to all the trouble of finding things themselves they would pay other people for things they liked.
Bena, meaning the little one, her mum’s childhood nickname and the collective noun for Anita’s collection of presents has grown up now like Anita, but will always remain a very little girl.
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Who I'd like to meet:
Any other collectormaniacs
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Bena Clothing has 28 friends.
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