Oh, those heteros..!
[More ghastly porn decor over at Flashbak]
There's been so little "hoo-hah" about the season's traditional Fashion Weeks that one would hardly be aware they were being held at all (even, as is the case, online-only). I completely missed last week's London one; this week it is the turn of Paris, it seems...
I suppose most people are thinking "When exactly am I going to get the opportunity to actually go out wearing posh new clothes?" at the moment.
In an effort to remind us of the glamour, the fuss, the luxury and the downright ridiculousness of it all, I think we are well overdue a little wallow in the lives of impossibly glamorous people in unattainable locations once more, courtesy of the simply fantabulosa Soft Tempo Lounge!
Oh, that's better...
[Music: Bebu Silvetti - Voyage Of No Return. Original film: Haute Couture (1987)]
Typical. Two days of hurricane-force winds and bleakness, and I (very reluctantly) wake up today at the start of another fun-filled week working from home to find glorious sunshine and the makings of a lovely day. I could scream...
As we grit our teeth for the next five days - on this Tacky Music Monday, who better than the utterly bizarre Renato Zero to cheer us up..?!
I think I might wear this outfit for my next Zoom meeting.
[More of the irrepressible Signor Zero here]
Again, it has been ages since I presented a selection of "newer" choons that have caught my ear of late. So, without further ado - here's a selection for your delectation. Typically for moi, inevitably the list is largely made up of familiar artists making comebacks and a rather interesting cover of a 90s banger...
First up (of course) is the new one [so soon?] from Our Princess Kylie! This is right up our street...
Begging the question "why remake a classic?"; nevertheless next up is a rather faboo effort from (surprisingly) telly's fashion makeover queen, some anonymous DJ from Swindon and a former vocalist with Basement Jaxx:
Speaking of the 90s "Decade of Dance", how about the welcome return of the creators of such eternal anthems as Insomnia and God Is a DJ, with quite an odd love song to (ahem) a keyboard..?
This one is quite remarkable - a track that features "The Queen of Fucking Everything" Madonna, but only in the background? It's obviously Miss Lipa's moment, but hell's bells - even Missy Elliott appears in the video! Where's Madge?
And, finally - the best track of the week is by a band that not too long ago were thought of as a bit of a "variety-show" throwback, dismissed by the kids as passé. Nowadays, they have the kudos of being gifted a track for their last album by none other than Benny and Bjorn, and this track is written by the cooler-than-cool Sia! I love it...
As always dear reader, let me know your thoughts....
It was a long time coming. Our last outing - and in fact the very last time it was able to be held - was February's "Polari in Heaven". So it was indeed a joy for all concerned that John-John and I were able to attend the re-emergence of Polari at the venerable Royal Vauxhall Tavern last night!
Our hostess-with the mostest Mr Paul Burston was thrilled, too, resplendent in his Bowie facemask and a butterfly-patterned shirt ["like a butterfly emerging from a cocoon", he observed], as he opened proceedings in the socially-distanced, table-service-only venue...
...and he should well have been proud, as we were treated to a fantabulosa evening's entertainment!
Opening proceedings in a fittingly OTT fashion was the whirlwind of energy that is Amrou Al-Kadhi, aka Glamrou.
With the applause ringing in our ears, with what could anyone follow that?
How about a paean to lesbian sex, and the (ahem) ins-and-outs of fisting?
And that is exactly what our next reader the lovely Kate Davies provided, in an uproarious and xxx-rated extract from her new book In At The Deep End (shortlisted for the "other" award, for established writers, The Polari Prize 2020). The book's blurb alone is hilarious:
Until recently, Julia hadn’t had sex in three years.
But now:
Julia’s about to learn that she’s been looking for love – and satisfaction – in all the wrong places…
Quite an eye-opener, indeed. And utterly brilliant.
After a short break for a pee and a fag, it was time for a little "round-table discussion", with Paul exploring a bit more of the lives of Glamrou and Kate, and the inspirations behind their writing.
Both were illuminating. Obviously the harrowing childhood of a closet gayer being brought up in a strict Islamic Iraqi household makes the bravery of Glamrou's chosen career as an outrageous drag performer all the more admirable. However Kate's complex and varied history, including "a short-lived career as a burlesque dancer that ended when she was booed off stage at a Conservative club, dressed as a bingo ball", and culminating in her memorable coming-out as a lesbian when she met her first lover after one such performance in the RVT itself, was equally fascinating.
But, just as we thought it was safe...
...Ms Barbara Brownskirt arrived to take over the stage!
One of our favourites - and longtime regular "antagonist" at Polari - the "Brownskirt woman" (the creation of the adorable Karen McLeod), the "Writer-in-Residence at the 197 bus stop on Croydon Road in Penge" continues to be overlooked by all the book prizes yet keeps up the pressure by reading them to the audience, like it or not! Last night included some dearly loved favourites, including Judi (Judi, Judi) (her love-song for Britain's favourite theatrical Dame) and Cruelty-Free Shoes, but we were also treated to some new ones, including The Blackberries Are Worrying Me and a new lockdown poem The Bus Stop Will Not Be Sanitised!
Here she is, in fine form, at a previous RVT evening:
We love her!
And, after the customary "curtain call", we made the most of the very short time remaining till the current "curfew closing time" of 10pm to mingle with some of the few regulars in attendance among the throng (Sexy Lexi and the lovely Uli from Gay's The Word bookshop among them), before wending our way back home again. I was home by 10.45pm - unheard of for a Friday night in the old days!
I have booked now (thanks, Paul!) for the next outing on 23rd October, featuring readings from Booker Prize-nominated novelist Philip Hensher, and the magnificent Diana Souhami, esteemed biographer of society lesbians such as Gertrude Stein and Alice B. Toklas, Gluck, Violet Trefusis, Radcliffe Hall, Romaine Brooks and Natalie Barney.
Can't wait!
We love Polari.
Sigh.
Never mind, even if it is likely to be a wet and mizzly one, there is another weekend looming, today is pay day, and I am off to the first (socially distanced) Polari since February (this time at the Royal Vauxhall Tavern as the Southbank Centre remains closed) tonight!
Time to get the party started, methinks. We may not be able to go there at the moment, given the circumstances, but what better way to open the celebrations that with the campest flight to Spain ever - and ¡Gracias Disco, es viernes!
Have a great weekend, dear reader!
[Feliz cumpleaños, Señor Almodóvar!]
“No journalist of my generation could escape Harry’s influence... we were all brought up on his text books. Everything we knew about constructing an intro, subbing, cropping a picture, designing a page or writing a headline we knew it because of Harry. It was drummed into us... He was to journalism what Doctor Spock was to child-rearing... the journalist who reminds us all why we all wanted to be journalists. At a time when some people are giving journalism a bad name he is somebody who gave journalism a good name. He represents what we could be and what we should be.” - former Guardian editor Alan Rusbridger.
"[He] transformed Fleet Street and [he] transformed the lives of all of us by understanding and appreciating that investigative journalism defines us. It earns our troublesome place in society and it makes clear for every journalist that what we do, for all our flaws, is invaluable." - former BBC head of news James Harding.
“He was the inventor of team journalism. In the editorial chair, he was a human dynamo and set in motion such a stream of powerful stories and campaigns that his rivals (I was one) could only struggle to keep up.” - Donald Trelford, former editor of the Observer.
"Evans was not just the champion of using journalism to set wrongs right. He was also a quintessential British editor who, for all his high-minded causes, understood that journalism was foremost not an intellectual pursuit but a craft – one that demanded muscular and clear language, captivating pictures, arresting headlines, perfect layout of the newspaper page... and, above all else, in a phrase coined by his foreign correspondent, a strong dose of 'rat-like cunning'.” - award-winning investigative journalist Stephen Grey, Reuters.
Sir Harold Evans, considered to be "the finest newspaper editor of his generation", the guiding light of every journalist and journalism student (myself included) for his comprehensive series of books on the subject of writing, editing, layout and impact of the journalistic craft, has died, aged 92. The world owes him a huge debt.
Having ruled Fleet Street for decades, he finally quit after Rupert Murdoch took over The Times and began to enforce his own personal and political influence on the editorial content of the paper. He departed for New York with his wife Tina Brown, latterly editor of Vanity Fair, and never looked back.
His remarkable journalistic campaign achievements included the pardon granted to the unfortunate Timothy Evans, hanged for the murders of his wife and child that were actually perpetrated by his neighbour the serial killer Reginald Christie, and the victory over the pharmaceutical company for proper compensation for the families of children born with deformities from the drug Thalidomide. His pioneering hard-hitting investigative journalism produced a string of world class scoops during his fourteen-year tenure at The Sunday Times, including the Bloody Sunday killings in Northern Ireland, the unmasking of Kim Philby as a KGB agent working for MI6 and publication of the Crossman Diaries.
As former editor of the FT Lionel Barber, in his obituary, says: "Neither lawyers nor governments could restrain him."
And who could ask for a better epitaph than that?
Harold Evans quotes:
RIP Sir Harold Matthew Evans (28th June 1928 – 23rd September 2020)
As well as the centenary of the distinctly unlikeable Mickey Rooney, another incongruous assortment of "names" share a birthday today, including Bruce Springsteen, Julio Iglesias, John Coltrane, Romy Schneider, Cherie Blair, Walter Pidgeon, Deborah Orr, Aldo Moro, Danielle Dax, Nicholas Witchell, Emperor Augustus, Floella Benjamin, Yvette Fielding and Kublai Khan - and it would also have been the 90th birthday of the legendary Ray Charles.
Truth be told, apart from the classic Georgia On My Mind, this - his only hit here in the UK, way back in 1961 - is the only song of his with which I am really familiar...
...but it is a corker!
Takes the mind off the rain, I suppose...
The sunshine is utterly gorgeous today - better make the most of it, however. For today is the Autumnal Equinox, and from here on in, the nights start drawing in!
The "season of decay" begins...
...but Miss Summer is still here to brighten things up a little:
Oh bugger. I was just getting used to being out in the lovely sunshine, pottering in the garden (as I have been for two days) - several pots of Spring bulbs are done, and loads more mucky pots washed ready for the next season's planting-up - and BOOM! Back to work...
Never mind, eh? On this Tacky Music Monday, there's always Miss Lola Falana and her safety gays, ready to cheer us up...
Money, indeed. That's why we do this shit.
Just because it is another gloriously sunny day, jolly music seems appropriate, and this song was on the divine Ana Matronic's playlist last night...
...remarkably, in a "live" performance from the grandest gay cruising ground in the UK, Plymouth Hoe:
Ahhhahhahhahh
She came from Planet Claire
I knew she came from there
She drove a Plymouth Satellite
Faster than the speed of light
Planet Claire has pink air
All the trees are red
No one ever dies there
No one has a head
Ahhhahhhahhahh
Some say she's from Mars
Or one of the seven stars
That shine after 3:30 in the morning
WELL SHE ISN'T
Ahhhahhhahhahhahhahh
Love them!
Heavens. The original "bad girl" of the couture world, fashion designer beloved of both Freddie Mercury and Princess Diana, Queen of Pinkness, Dame Zandra Rhodes is eighty years old today!
All hail.
In her honour, how about...this rather appropriate house favourite?
Many happy returns, Dame Zandra Lindsey Rhodes (born 19th September 1940)!
[More Zandra here]
A man who read a newspaper article saying the amount he drinks is a problem has confirmed that he is actually finding it to be very easy.
Tom Logan, who regularly drinks a bottle of wine or two every night, says it slips down effortlessly and makes everything seem much better.
Logan said: “Far from being a problem, it’s actually cheering me up and giving my evenings a delightfully warm and fuzzy feeling.
“It completely stops me worrying about the news and thinking about the terrifying global slip into right-wing lunacy, climate change and deadly viruses.
“Also I drink so regularly that my hangovers have stopped being horribly unpleasant and are now just a sort of foggy cranial buffer against the harsh realities of the cold light of day.
“I think I’d have way more of a problem if I didn’t drink.”
Alcohol counsellor Donna Sheridan said: “Lockdown drinking can be a problem. But I find it all goes pretty smoothly so long as I don’t hit the vodka on a Monday.”
Of course.
A weekend is looming, dear reader - thank heavens for that! It's still nice and sunny here in tropical North London (although the wind is a bit "keen") - and we need to get ourselves in the party spirit to enjoy it.
From (gulp) forty-two years ago this week, how about a bit of "British Hustle" to start the celebrations - and Thank Disco It's Friday!
Having sidestepped it steadfastly so far by clicking "revert" to access the more familiar blog editor, today it seems the "new Blogger interface" is unavoidable, and the option to use the "legacy" system has gone. Shame - I do resent being forced to change for change's sake, but I suppose I'll just have to "put up and shut up". Who am I kidding? It is clunkier than the old system, especially the HTML editor, some things are not working (the list of previous "labels" appears to be missing, for example) and looks downright ugly. All that orange...
It's endemic these days for companies to tinker around with their sites just to appease people who do everything on their phone, rather than on a PC as I do (I reverted back to a simple Nokia from a "smart" phone years ago). Sod the rest of us.
Rant over, and on with the show.
Today would have been the 95th birthday of the wondrous Miss Dorothy Loudon, so let's let her sum up the mood with the help of Mr Sondheim...
STOP PRESS:
3.10pm - I have been informed in the Help Forum that if one has more than 5000 labels on one's blog, then when creating a new post no drop-down list of labels will appear, so one has to type them in manually. It also took TWO HOURS after publishing for this post to appear in the Reading List. Shoddy.
Frogmore Cottage has been listed on holiday rental service AirBNB, it has emerged.The Daily Mash
The five-bedroom cottage on the Windsor estate is listed as ‘steeped in Royal history’, ‘handy for Heathrow’ and ‘ideal for family holidays or weekend get-togethers’ by the hosts.
A spokesman said: “The hosts have remained anonymous, but live in the Santa Barbara area of California and have confirmed they are free to do whatever they want with the property since they paid for it.
“They were particularly keen for the property to be available to tourists of non-white origin so they could ‘see how the old bastards like that’.
“It’s already fully booked into next year and they’re hoping to recoup the cash they’ve spent on renovations within a year, after which they’re considering turning it into a benefit hostel.”
19-year-old Oliver O’Connor of Basildon said: “We’ve got it for next weekend. There’s about 60 of us coming loaded up with booze, weed and nitrous oxide whippets.
“Place is gonna get wrecked. Didn’t want the feds to be able to trace us, so I booked under the name ‘Wills & Kate’.”