Friday, July 30, 2010

Ain't my type of hype.

Fun fact: Kid and the Madame have the same skin color. What's even weirder is that we have the same hairstyle. 

I don't know about y'all but this is exactly what I'm gonna be doing this weekend.  Charlemagne and the Madame are going to have a house party (we're not) and Ima put on my yellow halter-style catsuit that I save for special occasions and she already tightened up her fade.  Seriously she did:

Look at those little boots...  awww...
Don't laugh.  She's very sensitive.  She's also pretty raggedy because after about .5 seconds she was giving the "are you done yet?" stink eye to the tech.    I wanted to introduce her to the world but she told me 'not the face' so be thankful for what you can get.  

I've gotta go practice my hot dance skillz and prepare tons of mediocrity fabulosity for next week.  Ok, really I'm going to grease myself up with bacon fat to fit into the double layer of spanx necessary for the cut-off catsuit.  Fortunately the atomic bomb-sized mushroom cloud spillage from the spanx will be covered by that black patent leather belt.  A true lady never reveals her secrets. 

Monday, July 26, 2010

Peace, love and shimmies

A few years ago I tapped into my inner hippie goddess (it's actually a lot closer to the surface than the glamorous Madame but don't tell anybody) and took belly dance classes.  Best thing I ever did.  I bought a bunch of exotic accessories, listened to groovy music and smelled like patchouli twice a week.  Oh and did some badass dancing.  Every lady person should do it.  Seriously.  It doesn't matter your dance ability or hip/waist ratio just go do it.  Ok you might need rhythm...  I can't remember why I stopped (it was money) but I'm going to do it again.  My coin belts are collecting dust and that is a travesty akin to punching my inner Earth Goddess in the balls!!!  I should be ashamed.

all from here

I really squee for these historical references - these dancers are from the Ouled Nail tribe of Algeria.  I could probably wikipedia it but, meh...  so could you.

Egyptian Ghawazee dancers from here
People commonly think that belly dancing is the old-timey version of strippers/prostitutes but that's not true.  There was no sex in the champagne room even then.  Mostly...  Do these ladies look like whores I ask you??!!  Salome ruined it for everyone!  Word on the street is that it was a social dance that had the added benefit of developing muscles to ease childbirth.  The cutest thing I've ever seen is a girl about 6 months pregnant taking class.  Awwww...  Until I saw her do a belly roll and it was the most freakishly disturbing thing I've ever witnessed because I thought an alien was going to burst from her belly!!  Wait, I mean it was pretty awesome... no judgment.  I can roll my belly both ways but it looks like a slightly mushy glamorous albino anaconda trying to swallow an entire goat and then regurgitating it.  Sexy.

 I forgot the source so he's going to give me the evil eye.

Even dudes can belly dance!  At least I think that last one is a dude...  

Famous turn-of-the-century "belly dancer" and slut Mata Hari.  I just like the headdress really...

Claudette Colbert as Cleopatra.  Ok so no belly dancing in that I don't think.
And then Middle Eastern culture came west and went Hollywood!!!  

But of course I like belly dance when it went mod - all retro and polyester and sequins and smarmy lounge feel.  There's something so wrong and so right about belly dancing in a bouffant.  

I'm pretty sure this is the title of a current rap album but it also made a particularly awesome (and  nasty-looking) belly dance cover.


 Weeeeeeee!!!  I'm in orange!!

all from here
She'll cut a bitch with those eyelashes.

source? Heaven.
There was a time when belly dance went glittertastic in the 70's and 80's in the Cabaret style.  Normally glittertastic really rocks my world but somehow this just ain't workin for me.  But I can't say that because if you are a belly dancer then you give mad props to every lady belly dancer regardless of skill, taste, stretch marks, muffin tops, age, tan or size.  It's part of the Code of Shimmies.  So as a matter of fact I ADORE this lady - FUCK YOU for thinking otherwise!!!   I once saw two glamazons in tube tops and broomstick skirts belly dance/mosh to a Korn song at a hafla and get a standing ovation.  True story.  (no seriously, it really happened.)

Zoe Jakes from here
But I prefer my style more like this.   Other than Cabaret the current trend is called American Tribal Style or Tribal Fusion.  It's gritty, little bit goth, largely improvisational and involves lots of eyeliner and accessories.  I love it.  

Fuck yeah feathers.

Zils or finger cymbals

both from here

 Rachel Brice from here

Um... serious girl crush.

Here's a video showing EXACTLY what Madame Sunday looks like dancing as demonstrated by Rachel Brice.  

A slightly more bootleg feel but equally badass.

Better go dust off my coin belts...

Tuesday, July 20, 2010

Three realities and a baby.

Madame Sunday has returned and recovered (read: I got drunk) from the four day attempted suicide mission vacation known as family fun time!!  Yipppeeee!  I travelled to the edges of the Earth - you may have heard about it through my previous complaining and Twitter rants - it's called West Texas.  Getting there required two cars, an airplane, an underground subway and passage through a mystical portal known as My Comfort Zone.  

It's a beautifully rough landscape full of rusted oil horses, worn out towns and quite a few multi-million dollar ranches scattered about.  I like all of that - especially the old stuff. But to a madame who revels in mediocrity it's a state full of extremes - both the physical landscape as well as the sociopolitical environment.  Bulls costs as much as my house, schools change history and sometimes it takes an hour and a half to get to a mall.  Also it's home to my kinfolk and there is plenty of delicious brisket.

Starting at the end (it's easier this way) -  I had spent the final morning driving to the airport for my return flight talking about Obamacare and socialism so once through security I stole away to the Magazine Orgasmisplosion Store to hoard Sour Patch Kids and smutty mags, my own personal brand of escapism, for the flight home.  I was lucky enough to find DHome, a local Dallas home and garden magazine, and inside lay pure editorial bliss exploring the OTHER side of Texas I had yet to see:  the pink lipstick, lavender walls, Cadillacs and over-the-top big city Dallas life.

So sparkley...
Here's the owner of the featured house - grandson of Mary Kay Ash as in THE Mary Kay of pink Cadillac makeup fame.  He's posing here with his favorite pussy on the dining table (I'm sorry I had to) and beard wife.   One look at her in that dress that I KNOW he picked it out for her and I knew this spread was my decorating salvation.  I bet the chandelier was purchased because it is reminiscent of Cinderella's pumpkin carriage. Just like a Texan fairy tale.  This whole thing was a glittery and overly-styled fairy godmother sent to shine a soft pastel light on the softer side of Texas I had yet to see.  Quite a far cry from where I just came from...

Oh ahahahaha!  Dearest Uncle CattleRancher - I can't tell if that was a derogatory joke or you were informing me about a hate crime you were planning to commit but I'm going to laugh anyway because I know you are not afraid to use that gun strapped to your ankle or the one holstered under your shirt or the two in your glove compartment.  AHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHA!  ehhhh......

Lemme tell ya, this ain't my style.  But after four days of Sarah Palin and Jeezus (in that order) for breakfast, lunch and dinner this was like a design blogger lovefest.  There was 'swooning' and 'melting' and a lot of other shameful things.  It reminded me that I have a place in this world - a place where I can squee over that art in the corner, marvel at people who upholster things in silk and also give a middle finger to the shitty layout of this room.  FUCK YOU randomly placed felt poof!  Ahhhh..... I feel right at home now.  Well, almost.  

A few compassionately texting friends reminded me that back through the portal to my home that we shop at Ikea and yes global warming does exist and no it is not just Jeezus giving Mother Nature a hot flash and gay marriage really isn't a sign of the coming apocalypse.   Whew!  I was starting to forget!

mmmmhhhhh chandelier.
That foyer on the right is probably as big as my living room.  Seems reasonable - everything IS bigger in Texas.  And even though that antique desk on the left serves absolutely no purpose other than mildly hinting that someone in the house might sit there and pen notes on monogrammed stationary amidst the Murano glass collection it is kinda purty. In that completely useless way that only works in decor magazines.

My grandmother has a desk.  Well it's really a lap tray that she uses in her recliner where she does the daily crossword and writes letters to San Francisco (the city itself) telling them why she won't visit their town.  You know, because of all "those people" -  the ones who voted for Nancy Pelosi.   Oh and the baby-killing, ass-demon homosexuals too.

So here I am standing in the airport awaiting my sugar rush and all I can think about is how it's all just Texas - young millionaires with Baker furniture that might have never been used and poor families out in the middle of nowhere eating Velveeta casseroles all just tied up in bow of unabashed lone-star pride. 

Where do you think Madame Sunday gets her badassical attitude?!  Duh.

maybe this is bit more than pride.  I'd still do dirty things to get a closet like that.
Christ is this the Mariah Carey MTV Cribs edition?  This is the closet where her "husband" probably does her hair.  Looks like a stray pair of Louboutins wandered away from their home in a Rubbermaid bin under the window.  I can assure you that part is fake because everyone knows when you buy a pair of Louboutins they come with their own shoe angel that flies them up to the heavens to sleep at night.

In West Texas you wear cowboy boots.  Not because it's cool but because you are an actual cowboy.  Ok real cowboys are pretty badass.  I don't have anything flip to say about them.

Ok that bedroom on the left is pure hotness. I won't deny.
But this?  Didn't we JUST talk about white?   My family says godless liberals (I love you too grandmother) are ruining this country but I think it might be people like this who decorate in all white and use ridonkulous amounts of pillows on their beds.

click to blow it up.  seriously.
On the left are framed sketches of the custom wedding dress designed by her husband Austin Scarlett of Project Runway fame - yeah THIS lady!   But in all honesty -  I almost wept at seeing this picture with the baby. Not sure if I wanted to weep because the wallpapered ceiling had glass beads, the custom-designed crib was conceived even before the baby was and the plethora of PINK all made me want to throw up and vomiting makes me cry (and pee) ORRRR weep because that baby's head tilt is so fucking adorable it melted the wall of recycled water bottles and liberal guilt I was forced to build around my soul over the past three days. 

I think that baby is just reminding me that all is right with the world (except for that crib of course) once I get back to my middle-class boughie life, eat some organic vegetables and see what's on clearance at Target at a manageable 5000 miles away from the family I love.

Thursday, July 15, 2010

I would trade you a block of Velveeta for one of these. And I like Velveeta...

So I'm back from my little excursion to the nether regions of civilization.  You have to travel through a couple of worm holes to get to West Texas because it's kinda like 1963 over there.  I think part of my brain is stuck in another dimension and hasn't made it back yet.  Or maybe I'm still trying to digest the large quantities of Velveeta that I ingested.    That's probably it.  It was worth it though - the Velveeta part that is.  The other stuff?  Well we'll get to that in the next post.  But right now I just want to look at some cool stuff because I came to understand the value of small things like a mall within 50 miles, an internet connection and affordable art not bought from the Lilian Vernon catalog.  

Peggy Wolf on etsy via oh joy

Ok look, pink is in this year and I kinda can't help that I like it because I'm a sheep who follows trends an awesome madame on the cutting edge of design.

Know what I like more than pink?  Collages.  And skeleton keys. 

...and bird and animal references,

...and spoons. (SHUT UP! it's not just because they shovel delicious casseroles made with Velveeta into my mouth, it's because they are all design-y and stuff)

...and tattoos and body art.  I'm starting to get obsessed I think.

I'm gonna get a tree of life like this but I'm going to tattoo on my FACE because why the fuck not?  Who needs to look like a normal person in job interviews?!  Also cuz Grandma needs to back up off me and my self-expression!  This is who I AM gawdammit!!!  Spoons and keys and birds and blogs and affordably-priced art that would look super cute if I bought 8 and hung them down my hallway or all grouped together in my dining room over the buffet or maybe in the foyer so it's like a chorus line of fancy art ladies greeting me when I come home from work or after a long "vacation" perhaps stuck in 1963....