Spring is in the air!
(or is that just the smell of all the rotting piles of fish, fly covered duck parts, and the abundance of mushy, blackened, mouldy fruits and vegetables cascading out of the garbage bins on every corner of China Town after a long hot weekend?)
ANYWAY, I digress (yet again)… SPRING…or something…is in the air! And we all know what that means. There is something sinister lurking just after Labour Day…. SUMMER. It’s that dreaded perennial season that inflicts self loathing, acute body dysmorphia, and humiliation upon most of the population. Every year it’s just as reliable as when Puxasutawney Phil comes peeking out of his burrow. It’s just as predictable as October bringing us Halloween. And of course the arrival of Halloween means attending parties where once more you hear the reoccurring theme of everybody’s costume. The description of said theme is naturally:
“I’m a Sexy ______”
(you can fill in that above blank with anything from “kitten”, “nurse”, “pirate”, “baby”, “homeless man”, “burn victim” through to “cadaver”)
But..back to our topic…
Yes, SUMMER is coming. The season whose high temperatures, and societal expectations demand that we wear less coverings over our pale, flabby bodies. Those same bodies that have been safely camouflaged all through autumn and winter by cashmere sweaters, silk lined woollen trousers, fashionable boots, hand knitted scarves, glamorous drama coats (à la Çomme de Garçon) and a vast variety of garments created from beautiful tactile fabrics. (le sigh)
Summer, on the other hand is the season, that to me, demands that I wear clothing and bathing suits that exacerbate the genetic betrayal that is my legacy.
I know a lot of people say: “You should just join a gym and start working out! You’ll get such a high from it!”, or “Take a Spin Class, it’s so much fun!”, and
“I’m on a really fun ______team, you should come and play with us!”
I have attempted all of those activities, and believe me when I tell you that I totally went at it half-heartedly, and gave it the best half-arsed effort that I kinda tried to muster. Going to the gym, and especially trying out a Spin Class made me completely anxious, self conscious and nauseous. Being around all those muscular, toned young people made me feel like a giant albino squid, thrown out of the ocean, and onto a beach. I was flopping about uncoordinated and exposed. All that my squid self desperately wanted to do was to find some way back into that ocean water again, and then squirt out a huge cloud of black ink in which to hide myself, and cower. In other words, as far as gyms? I’d rather wear fire as a hat.
After all of those experiences I have decided that I already get plenty of exercise from chain smoking, driving a stick-shift, wandering through the streets aimlessly every weekend, and lying in bed and complaining.
However, I did recently unearth a long forgotten ancient VHS tape!
(yes I DO do still own a VCR. I use it to view all of the old videos that I never got around to converting to DVD’s twenty years ago…and yes DVD’s still exist too. Not everything is on Netflix baby)
So this afore mentioned tape is an old eighties work-out tape was designed especially for men. I have been watching it and copying all the movements for weeks, but I am still not looking like any of the men on the tape. Then I realised that maybe the point isn’t looking like those men, but rather to just like looking at them.
To stay in the top tier of The Stay At Home Modeling world requires endless practice, practice, practice. But even the most polished, accomplished, and astute Stay At Home Model can preform a dodgy turn, or execute some other clumsy move….or (gasp).. even fall over. However you must never forget who you are. You’re the “it” girl. You’re on the cover of every non-existent fashion magazine. You’re in the absolute stratosphere of Stay At Home Models. All of the most important fictitious people in your bogus fashion world look to you for their inspiration. The phalanx of imaginary photographers are waiting at the end of your make-believe runway (the stove and fridge in your kitchen). All of the very top echelons of pretend editors, illusionary fashion bloggers, made-up buyers, fabricated upper east side haute couture customers, and carefully curated concocted celebrities are watching your every single move. Now we all realise that this is an enormous amount of delusional pressure. That’s why a Stay At Home SUPER Model like yourself is always prepared for those exceptionally rare runway disasters. If something catastrophic happens on that chimerical catwalk of your’s…IMPROVISE! Turn your mishap into a major moment; and enduring iconic fashion image. Something that will be a concretization; an indelible memory for all of those invisible fashionistas in your head.
Sept 30th – Grand Central – 5 Masonic – Provincetown – 9 to 1 – With me, your music maestro toute la nuit
c’est l’écureuil en cuir🖤🐿🐿🐿🐿🐿🐿🐿🐿🐿🐩🐿
Thanks to The Magic Of Pia for this urgent, tragic bulletin.
Very nearly enough. Thanks to our West Coast reporter via VIBRATIONs blog.
BTW – I’ve been watching Ed Sullivan nightly for a couple of weeks and for real, every lady singer/songstress has performed ,”What The World Needs Now (Is Love Sweet Love).” Like all of ’em. Not Bobbie Gentry though. She went with, “Nickey Hokey.” I’m glad she did.
I don’t always watch Decades. I also watch GetTV and MEtv and PBS and I also stream lots of things. I stream all the time. I’m streaming right now. You wanna talk about Chromecast honey? Let’s talk about Chromecast. Watch the cast honey. Watch ALL the cast.
See? I’m very current.
What a pair.
Dreams of a side by side flying camel.
Carry on, queens.
I’m proud of the things I’ve learned.
I’m proud to love animals.
I’m proud to remember childhood.
And I’m proud to study color, I love colors. Who doesn’t? Colors are fascinating.
I’m proud to know grace personally.
I’m proud to call talent and inspiration by his first name.
I’m proud to be old school.
And I’m proud to introduce you all to some new school. Meet Steve – a one to watch.
I’m proud to aim high with my art.
And I’m proud of my pictures.
I’m proud of all my pictures, and sometimes, they can be very gay…
I don’t feel proud just to be gay though, I never have. Being gay is the easiest part of all. Being the rest of me is what I try to be proud of. Sometime’s it’s hard but lessons are hard to learn and I am generally a know it all who tends to be a scene stealer. Nuf said.
Gay pride – I love fireworks and I love a parade. It’s a good day for me.