Agoura Hills? Though the sound of it was rather ominous, I decided to rescue Fade-Dra just the same. I drove until there was no more light in the sky but the twinkling embers of my cigarette falling into my ashtray as I tapped out my cigarette. I reached the modest 12 bedroom castle wedged in the hillside of some forgotten Los Angeles "THE Place to Live." I parked my old (old compared to modernity and the like) 1999 Mercury Cougar on the side of the road behind, what I presumed to be the limousine that transported the cast to this lush abode, Fade-Dra being one of these said passengers.
At the gate I was greeted by two half-whit, barley legal, security guards in kilts. Needless to say, I felt no threat or hesitation to approach the check-in table. There I was brashly greeted by a jangly gay man and his not so whimsical girl counter part. They asked my name and rushed through two clipboards looking for my name. I knew they wouldn't find it, due to the fact that I didn't RSVP. "Sir, how did you hear about this event?" "Fade-Dra," I replied. They began to look at one another in awe and dismay, as though I just spoke to them in tongues. "She's a drag queen, performing here I think." "OH, the one in pink!" "Go ahead, she's up the stairs to the left."
Upon arrival at the top of the steps I was greeted by a merman swimming in the pool. Rather odd pet I thought to myself...and I don't see the fun in it, but 'ups' to the host, for being the only man ballsy enough to have such a liability swimming about unattended. I glared across the open bar and tried to rest my eyes on anything that resembled new collection pieces, interesting jewelery, shoes that weren't purchased at a mall discount store, but to my disappointment, I found none.
What became of you night, what offers have you in store for me tomorrow, for tonight I stand here alone in my fantastic fabulous-ness, only to be surrounded by relics of the past in beige khakis and double breasted waist coats...for women! Eeek!
I was able to find Fade-Dra, who, at the time, was four or five sheets to the galling winds! After the music started, as we were there for a record release party...I glanced at the video of a priest pressing upon the face of a disturbed young man, a large ornate cross. I glanced over to fade-Dra and nodded "it's time".
As we coasted down the highway from nowhere ville America back to the 'civilized' world, I wondered; were we all destined for such a fall from greatness as witnessed by me at this "Party"? Will I one day not care that I am wearing pinstripe pants with a polka dot shirt?
The evenings efforts were not all lost in the hills of the forgotten realm. We finally ended up at a good friends house, where we proceeded to purchase a 'pick-me-up' if you will, one that isn't too too much but enough to get us through the night. The night took a turn for the better as I saw a great man Jimmy Jasmine, who was impressing me with his Crass t-shirt that was written in Arabic. I strolled through the Eagle, a leather gay bar planted smack dab in the middle of Silver Lake, CA. My efforts were not lost, as I saw some rather interesting creations of style and grace. though I thought the idea of charm to be lost in such an audience, I was happily pleased to find some men really care about how they looked before they walked out the door. I love gay men and our sense of style.
The night ended abruptly, when Fade-Dra motioned me to the exit...as I sat at on Mike's designer sofa (Fade-Dra's roommate), I contemplated what I had just witnessed. The abomination of some of the outfits at 'the party' didn't closely resemble fashion, and yet the styles of the men at the gay bar were above and beyond some Parisian runway gave me a sigh of hope. "Perhaps I am destined for a better 'look' for the rest of my life. I mean if the company I surround myself with has any indicator as to who I am and how I like living; I feel, for now, this life will be lived with an ease of knowing that I too make the mark of fashion in Lost Angeles.
No comments:
Post a Comment