Women and Scale Modeling

 

The stages in a modeler's life

Women are fundamental to a man; it is in them that we find love, companionship, and a lifelong ally. Model building, on the other hand, is something for ourselves—for our own enjoyment. We build models for the love of the craft; while it certainly helps with stress relief, that is not the primary reason most of us do it. We do it simply for the pleasure of creating something with our own hands, finishing it to our liking, and being able to admire it whenever we wish.

However, the two activities are not always compatible—though, of course, this depends on the stage of life one is in. In childhood, the only woman in our lives is our mother, and she is the one who buys us the models; that is the sweetest, most carefree stage of life, when models are simply toys.

In childhood, a 1/144 scale model, a tiny pot of paint, and a brush were all it took to make us happy. 

But then comes adolescence—and with it, hormones. Now, we are the ones spending the money our parents give us on the things we like. This is the point where scale modeling transforms into Art; we no longer assemble kits just to play with them, but to craft models, practice techniques, and create accurate replicas destined for a display case rather than a "battle." Yet, this is also when women begin to catch our eye; little by little, our money goes toward flowers, chocolates, and movie dates. Our girlfriend becomes our biggest expense—part of the joy of dating and growing up—and quite a few of us give up modeling during this stage.

In our youth, we understand the need to express ourselves artistically; we feel that need in the style of Da Vinci or Rivera.

If you are lucky and have a good job, reaching adulthood means earning your own money; if a particular model catches your eye, you simply buy it. However, if you get a girlfriend, expenses rise—dates shift from the movies to fancy dinners, and the courtship process (or those "chance encounters") comes at a higher cost. Model building becomes a rarity—unless you have a highly demanding profession that precludes a relationship, involving constant travel and leaving no time even for yourself (which is when your stash starts growing faster than you can assemble the kits). Often, you just open the delivery package and look at the model, but you don't even have time to unwrap the plastic; it becomes a phase where you collect boxes rather than models.

Then comes life's most important stage: marriage and taking on responsibilities. Model building becomes something you only think about when your wife gives you a kit—usually not the kind you actually build—for your birthday or Christmas. All your resources go toward more important things; as a full-time worker and a father, you somehow stretch the day to 36 hours, pouring your resources into others. Schooling, vacations, your wife, and your children take precedence, and you simply find yourself at the bottom of the priority list.

Will they be boring ties, or a model kit?

This is the stage where spending money on a model becomes a joint decision; practically speaking, to buy anything at all, you have to negotiate like Nixon with China. Ironically, the time when you are most productive is the time when you have the least power to spend your own money. What I used to do was set a rule: whatever she spent on shoes, I could spend on whatever I wanted. Luckily, I had wives who collected shoes even more zealously than I collected models, so it worked out reasonably well.

The most important currency exchange market: what your wife spends on shoes versus what you spend on models—the main reason for having an elegant woman.

This pace of work brings consequences—such as stress and worry—which model-making often helps manage; yet, you rarely focus on yourself or your own needs. For years, you serve as the family's financial backbone until the children leave home and you reach a stage of life where you once again have the resources to spend on yourself. It is not uncommon for many men to rediscover model-making at this time. If you are in a stable relationship, your wife likely appreciates you having an indoor hobby; this is also a time when couples travel together, and cruise nights are spent resting in your cabin rather than dancing—moments when a good model kit comes in very handy.

Unfortunately, many men end up divorced, and amidst the bitterness, model-making can be a source of solace. Unlike the wrong kind of woman, a model will never betray, lie to, or deceive you. Like any work of art, it is the product of your own skills and tastes—something you always have under your control. It is something so valuable that no modeler willingly parts with their collection; these models are part of you and your happiness, and they represent something over which you have absolute control.

Pure, unadulterated happiness—assembling a model in adulthood. Passion fades, children leave, many bad women walk out, but the models stay on your shelf forever.

The answer to this question depends on the modeler's age: as a child, it doesn't really matter; as a young man, one often abandons the hobby due to a lack of time or money; but as an adult, looking back offers a different perspective—leading me to realize that:

There are models in my collection that have lasted longer than a girlfriend or wife ever did.

I’ve discovered that the peace of mind found in building a model is far more valuable than arguing with a bad woman.

If I could go back, I’d spend more on models and less on certain women.

But in the end, no one can take away the good times I had. I may have spent more on women than on models at various points in my life, but even if things didn't work out or they turned out to be bad partners, I certainly had a great time with them—and that is the essence of life.

P-40E Warhawk, 3rd PS (Prov), Revell 1/144

 

After the Clark Field disaster, the Far East Air Force (FEAF) was left with a very small number of fighter jets operating in the Philippines, insufficient to guarantee air superiority around the islands, which were surrounded by the Japanese Navy, preventing the arrival of supply convoys.

The Pensacola Convoy was diverted to Brisbane when the route to the Philippines was cut off.

The missing aircraft of Pursuit Group 35 were in transit aboard the Pensacola Convoy, diverted to Australia, to be assembled there and flown to the Philippines. Although there were no aircraft, enough pilots had survived and were taken to Australia to fly the planes. However, the situation had deteriorated so severely by the time the aircraft were assembled that there was no longer any way to send them to their original destination. Furthermore, the Dutch East Indies were in great danger; Allied air forces had suffered heavy losses, and fighters were urgently needed.

El unico escuadron en llegar a Java fue el 17 PS Prov.

Under these conditions, several fighter squadrons were created with the newly assembled aircraft in Amberley, Australia. The first was the 17th Pursuit Squadron Provisional, with newly arrived pilots and a few veterans from the Philippines. Due to the serious needs of the fighting in Java, the squadron was sent there. With new aircraft arriving gradually, the 3rd and 20th Provisional Pursuit Squadrons were formed, also destined for Java. The 20th PS was the first to be sent by air, but upon reaching Timor, they were intercepted by Japanese aircraft, and only 6 planes survived. The 3rd PS was sent by air, but only 8 fighters reached Blimbing; the others were either lost in accidents or had to return to Darwin due to malfunctions. Of these, aircraft number 54, flown by Second Lieutenant Robert Buel, was assigned to protect a naval convoy against a Japanese Mavis that had been following them. The lieutenant managed to shoot down the Japanese aircraft, but then disappeared without a trace. This is the aircraft that inspired this model.

MODELISM

This is the old Lodela 1/144 scale model, manufactured in the late seventies. It was a magnificent model, easy to assemble, and very well detailed. It hasn't been produced since. This scale is perfect for modeling aircraft with such simple markings, like the planes from the Java campaign, of which I'm still missing two squadrons.

GALLERY

The model is a Lodela Revell, H-1000 series, 1/144 scale. The Old Marine paint scheme uses the USAAF 1941 paint pack in Olive Green 41 and Neutral Gray. All the work is done by hand, including the insignia, which is a bit difficult at this scale. There is very little information about that period of the war. Many aircraft were only delivered in basic colors, with the national star in the center of the fuselage instead of the squadron symbol. They often had the economic numbers painted on the fixed rudder in white or black, and sometimes on the lower part of the nose. Due to the limited evidence, it is possible that the aircraft were customized in the field.

P-400 Airacobra, Portuguese Air Force, Esquadrilha Airacobra (after Esquadrilha 4)

 

 

Portugal obtained its twenty Airacobras in the strangest way: 15 P-400 model aircraft, belonging to the 81st FG and the 350th FG of the USAAF, in transit to North Africa, landed or crashed in Portugal. The aircraft were repaired and put into service, serving for many years.

After negotiations with the United States, the latter agreed to sell the aircraft to the Portuguese, and added some new P-39Ls, but refused any kind of technical assistance; the aircraft served until 1950.

There are several discrepancies regarding the number of Airacobras that arrived in Portugal. Apparently, there were more than served in the OK squadron, as the mixed squadron was called by its pilots. Some Airacobras crashed in Portuguese or Spanish territory. It is thought that at least 24 aircraft may have arrived in Portugal, and three in Spain, about which almost nothing is known.

The P-400s were undoubtedly painted in green and earth tones, as they were aircraft diverted from British orders, with red or yellow spinners. The newer P-39Ls were painted in VO on the upper fuselage and GN on the lower fuselage. However, there are references indicating that the P-400s were painted in a mild camouflage pattern.

 

MODELISM

This is the old Lodela 1/144 scale model, produced in the early 1980s in the H-1000 series, a peculiar series that was only fully produced in Japan, more or less fully in Mexico, and very irregularly in Germany. It was an extraordinary model for its size, representing a Q model very well.

GALLERY

This was one of my first Airacobra models. I assembled it in the early 1980s. It was the first model I assembled and modified its livery by simply cutting the bars of the American insignia from the decal sheet and painting it with the P-400 scheme. In the 1990s, I repainted it with Pollys paint, as the Testors paint I originally used had become scratched. Finally, I decided to change the livery, and since the Portuguese aircraft were interned P-400s, I decided to take advantage of the fact that it's the same camouflage and painted the Portuguese insignia on it, using new codes, and then applied a coat of varnish.