April 12, 2009
Donny Miller's book Beautiful People With Beautiful Feelings is the world's greatest book. I've said this since the day I received it as a gift from Zach Augustine. It captures human emotion, its ridiculousness, and tragedy, in campy, colorful, cartoons. I want to live within the pages.
When I was young I loved to dress up. And wear make-up. And achieved severe looks. High-concept outfits. Getting a rise. Asking for trouble. Looking for other creatures like myself.
Like a colorful bird attracting mates. Neon-hued plumage ruffled and puffed, I played dress-up to find those others who got a kick, and a boner, from acting a fool. I still do.
In college I smeared lipstick all over my friend Britt Hart and snapped pictures. Denise Garcia and I planned our club outfits for a week, shopping, painting, hot-gluing. Blue eye-shadow is always appropriate. The Jacobys and I went to a bar in Annapolis and never once took off scary wrestling masks. This Halloween, Matthew, Hanno and I painted blue stripes across our eyes. I gave an equally compelling performance of the Joker too, worthy also of an Academy nod. Just last week we dressed as fighter pilots. All these looks (and oh so many more) are available for viewing on Facebook. Thank you very much.
Praying at the Church of Warhol. Divine. Liza. McQueen. Waters. Bowery. La Beija.
I love a costume and a photograph. Sue me. Donny's book states "Self-Importance is all I have." I know the feeling, doll.
I bet John Waters used to sit around the house, start drinking at 9AM, and by day's end have over 1500 photographs taken in as many themes and outfits.
If Warhol can call it art, so can I.
Our Upstate house has become a place where people, New Yorkers, bankers and designers, alike, expect to play dress-up. Ask Jon. Pam. Georgi. David & Matthew. Darlene. It is the norm here in a house home to paper dolls and underwear hanging on the wall, fur rugs covering the floors, stripes battling polka dots battling Tiffany blue and blood orange. Halston and Liza nod, knowingly, needle pointed. Jesus looks in from the hallway. So does Lina Cavalieri.
I have a way convincing those unwilling to don a costume. Jesse Cozart said it is my costumes that bring people into my world. I countered it was my heart. Spirit. Eyes. Soul. Tattoos. Smile. But he is right, it is the costume,
Many would frown upon 6 grown men drinking all day long and taking pictures of themselves. Repeatedly. In masks. Dresses. Sunglass. Shirtless. Green. Blue. Striped. Hats. Gloves.
Costumes.
And they're a little right. But there is nothing more fun than playing dress-up (remember Mom's closet?). Nothing more hilarious than stepping out of your comfort zone. Nothing more fun than throwing caution to the wind. Crossing your legs like a woman (it is freeing to break from gender roles). Posing for the camera. Ask my houseguests from this weekend: Matty K, Tan-Tan, Ty-Ty, Orlaaando, and Mr. Fudge.
The secret is you just got to laugh. At your friends. At your outfits. At spilling your drink. At running around in your underwear. At the power a costume can have on your soul. You don't need Halloween.
Donny hilariously writes "That picture you took of me ruined my self-esteem. Forever"
That may happen to some. But to me and my friends that picture made us feel like the prettiest girls at the party. Like Miss America. Like the Supermodel of the World. Like a million bucks.
And who doesn't want to feel pretty?
