This is me in 2007. I used this picture on a dating website. Three months later I saw it was the advertising photo for another site. A YEAR later someone emailed me that they saw it on a “high class women” dating site. High class. That was my apartment behind me – $900 a month and I was 3 months behind. The shirt cost $50. The skirt maybe $25. In my driveway was an old….what was it? a Camry? I don’t even remember. Wow. I traded it in for a Volvo the next year. And it was in THAT year that I used this photo:
I got a lot less contacts. I never saw this photo on another site. Maybe it’s on a fetish site for people who really like pork.
This shot was one of a series of self-portraits I did in 2008. I was very, very thin. The “before”shot makes me realize going below a size 4 is a bad idea. I don’t even know what I weighed here. But I got there via everyone’s favorite pharmaceutical – Adderall. I was on Adderall every day, deadly amounts for 2 years. I was suffering over a personal issue which I could not let go of (yes, a man) and photo shopping at 100 mph on speed seemed the logical thing to do.
Weight aside…I like the “after” picture. Looks like an album cover or something. As an every day thing….is it possible to reach this look without software?
I still wear that red lipstick every day. It’s like my armor. It draws men’s attention but makes me look powerful. This dichotomy results in my not having to engage with men, think about romance or wish for love. How odd that feminists think the red lips thing is sexist and belittling to us when it’s clearly nothing more than Birkenstocks for the face.
I am going to periodically post clips of the phenomenal dancer/choreographer/performance artist Marie Claude Pietragalla. Here’s a cool clip from “Don’t Look Back”.
Earlier I wrote to you about growing up in the tenements.
Then we moved.
1970 seems to be packed with memories for me. I was 7. Is that some sort of place marker? The starting gate for clear memory?
We moved into a single family ranch house in a new development in 1969. It was brown. It looked like every house on the street only ours was…brown. The lawns had been seeded but there was no grass yet. Trees had been planted but they were skinny things that one could never picture as a climbable thing.Some houses weren’t finished, some were just foundations, some were finished but not yet occupied. A shiny new half-finished world.
It’s funny that – for such a free wheelin’ family, not stepping on the lawn was like the 11th commandment. No stepping on the lawn: it holds the promise of grass which will in turn make us look normal. I don’t know if that’s true but it feels like it might have been.
The grass seemed to come up quickly and at the same time, each house was being magically transported from an idea to a home and soon it was a real neighborhood. There were kids everywhere and they weren’t dusty and muddy. They had nicer clothes than the old neighborhood kids and new bikes and so did we. We had new bikes! And cool ones with sissy bars and glittery banana seats. We ate on picnic tables and cooked out on orange tin grills. Everyone had a swing set and in the winter we all had new sleds. I made my first best friend, Debbie DiOrio and together we hated the other girl across the street. Then I would hate Debbie and like the other girl. Then I would hate the other girl and like Debbie. It was the Salad Days of my 70’s middleclass suburban existence.
My dad, being a jazz musician, had to work a day job so that we could survive in this land of New Stuff and Honey. We didn’t see him much. He left early, came home and ate, laid down for a nap and left the house for a gig when we were going to bed. It was as if he was a just a rumor. And so dinner was a clamor for attention with my sister and I firing stories in some sort of feverish pitch at our sleepy, worn out father. It was a terrible feeling trying to cram in a life-shaping relationship over pork chops and wax beans. There was never enough time. But we had a yard now and a swing set so we had to make sacrifices. Looking back, I think we got hoodwinked on the “father for a swing set” deal.
Sort of made me want to swing the fuck out of that thing to settle the score.
And thus began my life of bad, failed dealings. Who would have thought “father for a swing set” would lead to such needy deals like “sex as an ice breaker”?
My childhood was nothing more than the firing of a starting gun.
And this is the first time since 2007 that someone forgot me.
No. He ignored me. He scraped me from the bottom of his shoe long ago.
I am shamed for even thinking he hadn’t.
IN OTHER NEWS! I’ve eaten only watermelon for the last two days. Everyone told me I looked really thin. I liked it
I’ve always known I was sexy and that I stand out because of it , but I have also always known I am not beautiful. I could handle that when I was younger but now (and that pic is 3 years old), my reflection in the ladies room mirror was older than I realized and not being beautiful became bigger than I thought it could be. When you are beautiful, age makes you lovely. When you are sexy, age makes you pathetic.
I always wanted to be pretty. I wanted to be the pretty girl that men want for more than sex but that’s not the hand I was dealt and sonofaBITCH haven’t I stayed in the game anyway! I’ve bluffed and won more times than I should have, I’ve played on house money and when I lost, I did it gracefully and small enough to still stay in the game. But I’m going to become “I bet she was hot when she was younger” and I can’t stay in the game with one pair and a poker face forever.
I knew I would one day have to cut my losses and get up from the table but I don’t think it occured to me that I might be leaving with nothing. That moment isn’t here yet but it’s very close. I’m not ready. I haven’t even gotten my “new pair of shoes” yet..
I am a huge fan of Kate Bush. Truly, there is no one like her. She has inspired people (ie Tori Amos) but she was THE break out female performance artist/musician of our time. I’m leaving a little gender room for David Bowie. Nonetheless, Kate Bush was a real ground breaker.
There are so many gif files of her. I thought I would post one (“Wow”).
“Hello Earth” is likely my favorite song of hers.
What is yours?