In fact, that photo was taken during the Algerian War, in the late fifties. My Grandfather, who is French, had been mobilized. And just before his departure, he told my grandmother (they were dating for a year) that he didn’t love her and that he would never marry her.
But she’s very stubborn, and she asked her brother to take photos of her during their vacations, so that she could send them to my grandfather, and he would fall in love again.
The photo you see can testify.
Isn’t it childish? To me that story defines exactly my grandmother.
That photo must have a great power, since when my grandfather came back, they got married.
I wish I had a picture of my grandfather, he was very alluring and elegant too. I think that my aesthetic taste comes from the observation of my grandparents. Both of them really represent a model to me.