Hotcha! Burlesque show alert! Caburlesque’s June show is Queen’s Birthday weekend, “A Night With Queen.” If you’re bored with “standard” burlesque, this show is for you, everybody is mixing it up. I’ll be there giving everyone a right royal emceeing-to and a few surprises.
Lots of my friends are having babies or taking their professional lives to a new level. So for all of us, here’s a song! (Debbie, I promise I’m resting up before June 2nd.)
And finally, discussing with a friend that my Mother’s Day post ignored Mother’s Day for spicy reads, my friend said, “Ever So Scrumptious doesn’t strike me as maternal reading material.” I laughed, and pointed out that my friend is a mom and she was reading it. I’ll do a maternally oriented post a bit later on.
At the Whitcoulls bookstore on Friday, I saw stacks and stacks of a new novel, piled up as high as I am tall:Fifty Shades of Grey. This ostensibly erotic novel is making lots of women foam at the mouth. Some are foaming at the mouth with enthusiasm and think its fantastic. Many feminists don’t like it because it’s about a woman reveling in kinky sex and submission. BDSM people don’t like it because it’s got no relationship to actual BDSM dynamics, or reality. The main problem with it seems to be that it’s just not well written. It’s been thoroughly slated by Smart Bitches, Trashy Books, a review site that understands that sometimes trashy books are a rest from the burdens of our high IQ’s, bless them. (In a quick flick through one of the sequels, the male protagonist lost me at “cable ties.”) Still, there it was, stacked as high as my head…
In discussing this with some of my friends, we were all shouting within five minutes, and one of us made an intelligent point. “I’m interested in BDSM and fetish and the like, I’m curious, but I have no experience and, this book is at least accessible. Reading this book seems like a safe option.” So I thought I would recommend some great alternative steamy reads. They may be harder to get a hold of – they’re not stacked up in the front section of Whitcoull’s – but you’ll enjoy them.
Betsey Johnson, a designer who once stood for femme 80s/90s quirk, files for bankruptcy! Like a bite of some oversweet rose-scented madeline, this has propelled me a la recherche au temps perdu. Johnson herself is 70 this year and, admittedly, the brand has stopped being as revolutionary as it once was. But in the 80s and 90s, she was one of the femmiest femmes out there designing, and I could regularly be found up to my elbows in the sale basket at the the Philly Betsey Johnson boutique. I even got married in a Betsey Johnson dress of deep red velvet.
Pinpointing that former boutique, and looking at some older Betsey Johnson clothes – in retrospect, much plainer than I remembered - unleashed a wave of nostalgia for my Philadelphia years. Did I love the clothes, or where I was when I was wearing them? I was young and clumsy and dorky when I rifled through the sale baskets at 18th and Walnut. I didn’t make a lot of money, but in 1994 Philly, you didn’t have to. Chasing temps perdu online, I found out that the tiny building where I had my first-ever apartment, on Quince Street in Philadelphia, is for sale. I already knew that one of the three miniscule apartments in the building (the one directly below mine – I was on the middle floor) got profiled on Apartment Therapy. I left a long and delirious comment.
To blow my mind further, somebody recently did a video praising Quince Street as a favourite place in the city. I could walk back down the uneven cobblestones of Quince Street today, shaded by slow-growing gingko and pear trees, and it still looks exactly the same as it did in 1994.
If you’ve never loved a city – I feel sorry for you – it’s like never having loved a person, or an animal. What is it like to love a city passionately? I felt like I knew everyone, or a subsection of everyone – a delicious fallacy. I checked out the alleyways and the scary-looking restaurants and bars, carrying away new places to go as urbanite trophies. On my rambles, I learned to love vintage: quirky unchanged lunch counters, stoop sales with Art Deco fragments and old magazines, closing-down stocking wholesalers selling me 1950s boxes of seamed nylon stockings for $3 apiece (“Nobody wants them anymore” they said). I huffed the smell of the sidewalks in the rain. I had my heart broken in that real-estate way, with an apartment broken into at one time, a bad encounter that shadowed the street where I lived another. Still, when I was coming back, I’d see the skyline and smile, involuntarily. And then one day I was done, we were over. Even the sidewalks stopped having their gravitational pull. I realized that I’d lived in that town and its environs for ten years and spent a sum total of eight weeks away. The rest of the world beckoned.
In the present day, I love Wellington, too, though not with that first-urban-love intensity. (Also, I live in the ‘burbs, and Wellington is ruthless towards its surrounds.) As a sign of my being at home in downtown Wellington, I felt a twinge when the Calendar Girls strip palace took over from the former Garden Club. The Garden Club was one of those large, indifferent, but available-for-burlesque venues. Its backstage stairs were horrible to high-heeled performers, its barnlike size didn’t encourage after-partying, and the seating was plentiful but good views weren’t. Nobody liked it much, until it wasn’t ours anymore. At least it’s ending on an interesting story. I think that in the age of Internet porn, there is something to be said for human beings leaving the house to look at and speak to actual women instead of airbrushed pixels. Those “dirty” urban zones were part of what gave Philly its rough-edged flavor. Will Calendar Girls be successful in this city and era, or, two years from now, will we be pouting at a glossy, dull fusion restaurant and saying “That used to be a strip club! Remember the time we…?”
Cascading crystal bullet necklace from iadornu at Etsy.
New craft and sewing venue in Wellington, Made Marion Craft, has the best location ever (just off of Cuba Street), is offering a dazzling range of classes, and has craft studio space for you and your group.
Discovery of the week: RECYCLED BULLET SHELL JEWELRY IS A THING. Brass casings combined with delicious minerals for industrial/quasi-steampunk flair – where has this been all my life? And your life? One comment I get from several friends is that, when it comes to jewelery, they like larger “statement” pieces. Fortuitously there are bullet shell jewels from 22 to 45 caliber, 1 to 4 inches long, for all tastes, from hardcore goths to delicate romantics. I don’t mind if everybody I know gets one – an army of lovers can never be defeated.
In Wellington, instant bullet shell jewelery gratification is available at Madame Fancy Pants. And if you want a custom-made piece of bullet shell jewelery, with a recycled casing from your very own gun (or that of a loved one), contact Things Unseen, New Zealand’s steampunk jeweler extraordinaire.
It’s autumn in New Zealand, spring in in the Northern Hemisphere – time for gentler pleasures, long contemplative walks, appreciating soft rain and changing leaves. I have been thinking about friends having surgery, the social construction of female interactions, and the dresses I want to make.
Lately there is a social construction of feminine friendship based on relentless socializing, both present and virtual. It came from the ’90s, with the double cultural whammy of Bridget Jones’ Diary and the Sex and the City television show. (The book this show is based on has much less friendship between the women – it was written into the show as a narrative linking device). Before this, the Greek chorus of BFFs was not a requirement in stories about women, or our own lives. There were songs about Sisters Doing It For Themselves and being On My Own. Today, it can seem like every nail polish application must be Facebooked! Every cupcake must be eaten with your six BFFs! Still, some of my favorite books are about women going through their travails without a BFF by their side. They may be beautiful (Polly Hampton), ruthless (Becky Sharpe), or self-aware and determined(Renee Nere, Cassandra Mortmain) – but, with the absence of the BFF, they do what they must, on their own.
This fervid female friendship ideal has a dark side. It chips away at the time we spend by ourselves, in Virginia Woolfe’s “room of one’s own” being creative, or thinking, or re-energizing. Nor is it friendly to introverts or to how introverts like to be friends. (Even burlesque artists can be introverts.) Some of my favorite moments with friends have been when we shared our introverted sides – we sat in the same room reading books together, or escaped from a noisy bar for a brisk walk and an intimate catch-up.
Earlier this month, a good friend of mine had surgery. In May, two more good friends are having surgery. Tomorrow, one of my best friends over the past 10 years is having very major surgery. Each of them has different needs and desires for support from friends, but I am thinking about them all. I had minor surgery in February and I appreciated not just concrete help, but my partner and my friends extending themselves to spend time with me, bored and trapped while I healed. There were some quiet moments that I still think of with deep warmth.
Right now I’m trying to build the middle ground. To be there, as needed, for those friends of mine about to have their procedures. To stay connected with older friends and be open and friendly to those I meet in passing. To get my creative stuff done – to finish the drawing, start a new book, make the dress, cook the long-simmered stew. And also, to experience the pleasures of quiet time in autumn.
Image from Erzsebet, reused under Creative Commons with appreciation.
The strong red lip that came back around 2010 isn’t going anywhere, so let’s discuss red lipstick and its discontents.
When red lipstick works, it WORKS. Teeth look whiter, mouths are more succulent, black garments and strong colors become flattering, submitting to the superior red mouth. And when it fails, the fail is traumatically monumental. Often I hear, “I’d like to wear red lipstick but it makes me look like The Joker.” Or Wallis Simpson. Or a strangely older, raddled version of yourself. The Man Repeller has a post on the pros and cons of red lipstick, and how many find it unexpectedly unattractive.
Gwyneth Paltrow and Tilda Swinton are two vaunted beauties with fine, narrow lips. Tilda goes lipstickless a lot of the time. When she does go red, a translucent berry red suits her better than a heavy, defined red. Gwyneth sticks to pinks most of the time.
An immortal Far Side cartoon by Gary Larsen.
The inspirational red lip of our time belongs to beauty icon Dita Von Teese. And when she doesn’t have her makeup on, you can see how some extra lip seems to get added in there with her makeup. My hypothesis is that she is engaging in some tactical deployment of red lipliner.
You don’t have to wear red lipstick, even if you are doing a “retro” look.
To be pretty, or to knock a few years off your look, try pink and tawny tones one to three shades lighter than your lip.
To be alternative or dramatic, try purple and gold tones.
Go matte or glossy if in any lipstick doubt. Frosted tones and sparkle enhance lips’ natural wrinkles.
If you want to go red, and you’re new to the look, try a translucent or sheer lip color to get started.
If you want an opaque red “retro” mouth, use lip liner first to give your mouth more fullness and to define your cupid’s bow.
If you are an Antipodean lipstick novice, I recommend the brand Lipstick Queen. Three reasons: the whole range comes in both newbie-friendly sheer tones (Saint) and full coverage tones (Sinner). The high-quality lipsticks are at independent stands, so you can experiment yourself, without an attendant hovering. And they have a sheer red called “Medieval” that was inspired by the clear blood-red, yet lipstickless, mouths in medieval times, how cool is that?
I repeat – red lipstick is optional.
You know what I’m about to be into? Purple lipstick! I was asked to wear some purple lipstick at a photo session and that look is fresh – see the image from the session below. Grape Ape is my new beauty icon.
Purple lipstick, for a change. This was VERY purple in the tube, I'm amazed at how wearable it is.
Some past posts have been particularly popular – here’s some follow up on them.
Grandma’s Vintage Fur… Recent comments show that people are getting ready to sell their vintage furs. I did the rounds of the vintage/resale stores in Wellington this past weekend. Furs I’d noted there a month or two prior were sold, and ladies were trying on furs. Yes, sightings of vintage store customers trying furs. So if you’re going to sell, this month and next month are prime.
Also, thanks to the super-stylish Alison for this tip – the last full-service furrier in New Zealand is Mooney’s in Dunedin. Remakes and repairs, take them there! Alison and I also agreed that the Antipodean retailer Cue is, in fact, a stealth petites store, and their partner retailer Veronika Maine is for taller women.
Living In NZ, Shopping Overseas… Had a fascinating discussion with an international retail maven who pointed out that one item leading to higher NZ prices is that “suppliers in NZ pay the GST tax every step of the way. In other countries (such as the US) wholesalers are exempt from sales tax.” But don’t the suppliers here get their GST tax paid back, eventually? “Yes, but they do have to provide the cash up front.” Retail Maven also agreed that, because Kiwis are used to paying the higher prices, retailers in NZ go ahead and charge them.
Cupcakes Against the Abyss Oddly, the same week that the Very Vintage Day Out was a huge hit in Auckland, I was asked a lot, “So when is the retro trend going to die? When will it stop?” Plenty of people are going ahead and starting the stylistic future (hello, Black Milk and your galaxy leggings) – I’m particularly impressed with older women’s contemporary style in Wellington. On the other hand, retro has never been more accessible, more fun, and more widely understood. Retro overall has joined Goth, Steampunk, and Rave/Electronica as an alternative lifestyle choice centered around events, dance, and music, with a significant style/dress component.
Real life has been keeping me away from the computer, including lots of freelance work, burlesque hosting, and outdoors winter preparation. Coming up soon: thoughts on color and style, how to get the most out of a photo session, a page on emceeing/hosting, heretical thoughts on red lipstick failures, and some house/home posts.
Due to an unexpected turn of events, I am emceeing this month’s Dr. Sketchy, with its steampunk theme! What ripping fun, I say!
I enjoy steampunk, even as my eternal steampunk rant is that I want to see more 18th-century steampunk – the 18th century being the era of the scientific discoveries that began the Industrial Revolution. But, no, popular culture has decreed that steampunk is based on the techno-Victorian retro-future-past that never was, pass the bustles and Nikola Tesla references.
Dapper Dinosaurs! Click on the link and be amazed. For hours. I was.
Victorian fashion webcomic goodness from David Malki’s Wondermark. Reused with permission.
From Wondermark, copyright Dave Malinki, reused with permission.
Interestingly, there seems to be a big gap in fashion recreation between 1830 and the early 1860s. In the same way, until recently, only brave retro-lovers ventured into the 1930s, with their challenging bias-cuts and demented hats.
This Friday, I’m emceeing the Burlesque Rocks show in Wellington!
Combining sexy burlesque with pulse-pounding rock music for a fresh show, the line up is fantastic: Fanciforia Foxglove, Winnie Chester, The Deity Dollicious, Sarah Marie Summer, Volumptous Twinkle, Miss Kimberly Grace, and, all the way from Colorado in the USA, Vivienne VaVoom. Tickets available here!
Last night, I went to the delightful thirteenth birthday of Tuesday Night Dinner in Wellington. My contribution was brownies with a cream-cheese-and-cherry swirl baked into them. "Do you have the recipe?" Why, yes, and here it is, entirely from scratch so you can make it anywhere in the world. Cherry Bomb brownies, behind the cut. Continue reading Two Tasty Things: Burlesque Rocks and Cherry Bomb Brownies
Have you noticed that overall silhouettes and color trends are the same as last year? That means it’s a good year to be a fashion cheapskate. So, as we transition into autumn and winter here in NZ, I went through my closet and thrifting finds with “Make Do and Mend” in mind. This motto still floats around the collective consciousness after its use in Britain during WWII.
After the review, I had three piles; one for the next clothing swap, one for the dry cleaner, and one for repairs. The pile for repairs was dark and gloomy: blacks, brown, gray. New Zealand’s fashion “black out” has come and got me with my wardrobe basics. Seven garments needed repairs or alterations I could do at home: hem repairs, nipping in at the waist, or taking up sleeves/legs. This wasn’t celebrity-level tailoring, but it does make a difference. Most of the garments were pants – what was with all the hem stitch failures? Maybe dance classes last year had something to do with it. Knits didn’t stop me, I take knits up and in with the three-stitch knit/stretch stitch on my Janome sewing machine. And here’s how to take up jeans without losing a special hem.
Then, I confronted my raincoat. This coat is a warm, petite-sized, clean-lined raincoat – a valuable Wellington wardrobe component. Unfortunately, last year, I managed to scorch it against a space heater, bending over to scrutinize a drawer full of beaded trim at Three Buckets Full. I was left with an inch-size melted patch besmirching the behind of my coat. DERP. How to fix it?
Raincoat behind before: Sad, sad melted polyester.
Before: Burned rainproof polyester weave.
Raincoat behind after: melted spot is hidden, and what’s not hidden (a small paler area) is no longer the center of attention. A line from a song unites the two birds.
After: Say it with me: put a bird on it! The burned spot is hidden under the left sparrow.
After: Full length back of coat with embroidery and patches.
The patches are from Calico Jack’s in Wellington, and the patch hot-fixing and embroidery was done by DKGM in Lower Hutt. They were bemused by this non-sportswear commission and worked with me happily. Nowadays, embroidery places can include up to 12 colors in one embroidered design and have about 200 colors to choose from. So go on and challenge them. One caveat: when a finished garment is embroidered, the embroidery goes through the lining, too. Embroidery through the lining bothered me less than a sad melted spot on my raincoat.
Finally, there were shoes. Wellington’s rain really does a number on leather. Two pairs went for resoling, and a thrifted pair of ankle boots is lined up to have its heel height reduced. Yes, you can have the heel height on a pair of tall shoes or boots reduced – by about 1 cm. Which isn’t a lot, but it can make a difference. It’s not an expensive fix, either, compared to resoling.
As for the rest, I had shoe-polish-and-leather-dye day and it looked like this:
I love that handbag to pieces – the perfect size and shape for me, it was a present from my mother. It’s two years old and after a leather dye touch-up and waterproofing, it’s still going strong.
Clockwise from noon: neutral polish, waterproofing spray, beeswax formula, sponge for applying beeswax formula, shoe polishes, a pair of dead pantyhose for buffing, buffing brush, leather dye.
Here is a basic polish technique for plain leather shoes and boots. With tall boots, I generally polish them up to the ankle seam, and only touch up the leg area lightly, if required. You can also shine up patent leather and clean suede shoes.
Any fashion lover who lives in a humid climate has had the awful experience of taking a leather treasure out of the closet and finding it’s been attacked by mold or mildew. I got lucky this time around – only one pair of shoes needed mildew rescue (the dusty-looking pair with the laces in the photo). My preferred fix is cleaning the mildewed leather with a leather conditioner/cleaner (the same kind used for leather upholstery and sofas). Then I place it in a sunny area for a few days, followed by dye touchup or polishing. Light reconditioning is the last step. Don’t condition items too richly in humid climates – that helps mold grow. Don’t store items in humid areas, and check them every couple of months. If a leather coat has that mildew smell in the lining, you are stuck taking it to the specialist leather cleaner.
Now I feel the way we’re all supposed to feel after one of those closet clean-outs – satisfied and reminded of formerly buried favorites. Once those shoes sitting in the sun dry out, I am content.
Have you noticed that overall silhouettes and color trends are the same as last year? That means it’s a good year to be a fashion cheapskate. So, as we transition into autumn and winter here in NZ, I went through my closet and thrifting finds with “Make Do and Mend” in mind. This motto still floats around the collective consciousness after its use in Britain during WWII.
