I realized today that is has been years since I indulged in flipping through fashion magazines.
My Titi Maria always had Vogue, Elle and GQ on her coffee table. She loved fashion, and was quite stylish on a very tight budget.
I forgot how much I would love looking at fashion magazines and imagining a story to go along with the editorials. Fashion magazines were one of the things that provided me with moments to escape a hard-knock-life childhood.
In my teens I decided to go to the High School of Fashion Industries. It was very daring on my part because most of my friends and family stayed in Brooklyn for high school, however, I was determined to take the L train to Manhattan and become part of the fashion world.
I loved my years at Fashion High, but I soon learned I didn't have the discipline nor patience for crafting garments. I did learn my true talents would require me to pursue other dreams. Yet, to this day I still remain an admirer of great fashion and design.
I also still love strong and brilliant fashion editorial work. Here are images that fueled my imagination during the morning. The images are courtesy of VMan Magazine, and the captions came from my twisted mind.
The Contessa kept her most valuable possessions close to her.
Very Krafty how they Werked this. All aboard for the Trans Europe Express.
Watersports
I'm pretty mama.
A High-Fashion X-Man
Bring back the Pompadour!
Oh Johnny! Why you go and fuck up the way you did?
Stay off the drinking and drugging so you can return back into fashion.
- Politicians are fucking whores. The more things change, the more they stay the same. I'm feeling so over it, but I remind myself I have to stay engaged and let my voice be heard.
- Dancing With The Stars celebrates the GLBTQ community in the biggest way. I saw a transgendered man dance with a women. Then, a big queen took a turn with another man. This show was brought to you by a Disney owned company. Everyone say "Hallelujah, Tinkerbell!"
- Local news remains a freak show. Midway into the broadcast they show a man pulling a school bus for a local school. I'm sure next will see a segment on something scary involving the holiday season.
- I saw on doc on PBS about a man that spent a year raising wild turkeys from the moment they came out the egg. He said they taught him, "when we live in the past or think of the future we betray the present." Once again we are reminded the age old advice to live in the present.
When Adam Sandler came on Letterman tonight to promote his new movie Jack and Jill, they played a few seconds of this song. I was reminded how much I loved this song as a kid.
It's true that Ray Parker Jr. was better than the theme to Ghostbusters.
V posted a classic Chic tune on his blog today. It reminded me about the brilliance of Nile Rodgers.
Nile Rodgers is legendary within the world of music producers. Whether it was his work with Diana Ross, Cyndi Lauper, Duran Duran Madonna, David Bowie, or his own band Chic, there is a track Nile birthed that made you feel the groove.
Nile has written an autobiography that should be out, if not now, any minute now. I got a taste of his story in the NYT. Click here for a look into his early childhood. It was so not what I expected, which made it very interesting.
I'm gonna hunt down this book. I want to know more about his journey.
Kurt Vonnegut has been my mentor, via text printed on page, for many years. I offer this quote as a caution to the good people, doing the good work focused on bringing justice to this planet:
"During the Vietnam War, which lasted longer than any war we’ve ever been in—and which we lost—every respectable artist in this country was against the war. It was like a laser beam. We were all aimed in the same direction. The power of this weapon turns out to be that of a custard pie dropped from a stepladder six feet high."
At his best David eats music's pussy, or rims, then fucks it's hole, while offering his own. This creator of music is made by a lover of both men and women.
I offer this sample of music by Bowie, that has for many years, left me pleased.
The song also left me wondering if Iman's husband likes to be fisted. If he does like an aryan fist up his mussy, I say, "Do you!'
Funny how secrets travel,
I'd start to believe,
if I were to bleed
Wow, Sean Young from Blade Runner, and other movies, just pimped herself on David Letterman's show tonight. She was pleading for the folks in control, to hire her for something, anything, you name it.
She even let them show a video of her in a Catwoman outfit screaming, "I'm not crazy!"
In the words of Dave Chapelle, "Show business turns us into whores."
So I came across these class pictures posted by a former classmate of mine. I actually still have the pictures, but never thought to scan them. Take a look and see if you can find me.
I'm very grateful for the public education I received at dear old P.S. 123, in Brooklyn. I had very dedicated teachers and felt like I could accomplish anything because of their encouragement.
Mrs. Bello helped me fall in love with writing. She always encouraged me to put my thoughts onto paper. Thank you Mrs. Bello.
Ms. Goldberg opened my mind to beautiful writing when she read to the class Charlotte' Web. The way she gave life to the words in the book remains a vivid memory. Thank you Ms. Goldberg.
Mrs. Bello and Ms. Goldberg are my role models and the standard I strive for as a teacher.
Andy Rooney is making his last appearance on 60 Minutes this Sunday. Let me say that in the past 20 years of watching 60 Minutes, Andy has consistently been the reason why I change the channel during the final moments of the program.
Trust me when I say I gave him a chance to make me "get it." However, I have never found him funny, clever, insightful, witty, or worth watching. I've even read one of his books in an effort to find his charm.
You've been a lucky fuck Andy. You better thank god almighty that someone high up on the CBS totem pole wanted to see and hear you.
Okay, so a high-riding bitch needed a change of scenery. I know I went vibrant, after not so vibrant, in terms of color scheme. Por favor, pardon the color shock.
Some of this jazz, with acoustic thrown in in her last CD, would have kept Lady Gaga from being banned on the jukeboxes of east village gay bars. After tremendous success go back to your roots.
