Jolly & Peppar

Peppar was in town for her 40th birthday! I met her for a delightful dinner at B Bar, and Jolly was there, wearing a warm-up suit bravely accentuated with a fancy tunic. I immediately asked if I could blog about her outfit. She indicated that when it's cold, one must sacrifice part of one's fashion vision. Sadly, I agree. Curse you, winter! She also mentioned that she's a fan of Colin Farrell's, so I promised to send her a very interesting link that may make her an even bigger fan! ; )

William's party

Oscar and I went to my friend William's party for his friend's magazine. Oscar was worried that there would be too many mean gays, but then he ran into some Radical Faeries he knew, and spent the rest of the night talking in some Radical Faerie code that I do not speak. To me, it sounded like "watermelon-coconut-burning man-Massachusetts-retail-retail-watermelon-coconut-blah, blah, blah." I spent most of the evening wondering at William's outfit. What happened here? Was he cold, so he put on an shawl-neck orange sweater? Then, still cold, he layered with a suede vest? For a moment, I wondered if William had had me fooled all these years, and that actually, he is a lesbian. A sweater and a vest! And those were just the layers I saw. But it was all in fun. A fellow complimented my ass, which has never happened before. And I ran into my old chum Johnny downstairs, doing a soundcheck with his band. (I couldn't stay for the performance, as I'm quite old, and have a hard time standing up for rock shows anymore, and didn't have my Boniva on me). I will hang out with William again soon, mark my words.

The stealth straight

A few months ago, my boss wisely suggested I remove a post from my blog about a "stealth straight" co-worker. I complied, but I secretly longed for another, non-work-related occasion that would make a "stealth straight" post necessary again. Well, I don't have to long any more. Alia H.'s roommate Patrick set off my "gay alarm" at Alia's dinner party, and I murmured to my companion, Oscar, that we should tag-team him some time, turning him into a "finger cuff," as the kids say. But then I saw the hair! Like a throwback to the rocker-boys of the 90s, emulating Joan Jett from the early 80s. Gays don't do throwbacks! So I knew he was straight then. But why the "stealth," I wonder? Is it so the ladies don't even realize they're straight until they're inside of them? Does this technique work? Anyway, I took a surreptitious photo, hoping I would catch some "crack," but sadly, I did not. This is not the first time "crack" has eluded me on a NYC evening. This post contains references to drugs, sex, and inappropriate work behavior. I might as well throw in a reference to Sarah Palin. Sarah Palin!

Alia's necklace

I went to a dinner party at the always-delightful Alia H.'s house. Why am I talking about it on my fashion blog? Because I brought homemade cupcakes, baked from a recipe provided to me by a famous clothier! And because I wanted to see what Alia would be wearing at her own dinner party. She famously wears the same outfit every day to work - black and gauzy - and I was curious to see if she would "mix it up" at home. Nope! But she did accessorize with a wonderful necklace that invited one's gaze to wander ... well, I'll let you guess where my gaze wandered.

NY Crime Scene

Does anyone know a tax attorney who might be able to give me some pro bono advice? Since I'm tired of my tax dollars being used to subsidize tax breaks for couples who get married, I don't want to pay taxes this year. How do I file a lawsuit against the IRS? I'm serious. This goes beyond taxation without representation - more like taxation with symbolic annihilation. This pic is from the Times Square protest tonight. Because no outfit is prettier than resistance!

The swoosh

Almost every day, I pass by a tennis apparel store on my way to work. Currently, there are some really nice-looking Nike shirts in the window, and I would definitely buy one if it weren't for "the swoosh." Why would I want the emblem of a sweatshop-enabling mega-corporation emblazoned on my chest? Which brings me nicely to the topic of Tiger Woods, who just learned that the Florida Highway Patrol will not bring charges against him in his "one-man car accident" last week. Of course they won't! I wonder what would happen to me if I refused to speak with police who were investigating an accident I was involved in? Probably, multiple bullets or a mop handle would be involved. I've always had an intense disdain for Tiger Woods, given his shilling for multiple mega-corporations, his silence on social issues, and his willingness to play on male-only golf courses. I love it that his ability to exist as a multimillionaire golfer was bought with the sweat and tears of true sporting greats like Althea Gibson and Jackie Robinson - outspoken giants who probably would have been more likely to burn a polo with that swoosh on it than wear it. Wear it, Tiger Woods! Wear it OUT.

Slobber on the neck

What a good sport Oliver is! I wanted to blog about the Gee Henry / Sarah Hall / Richard Milward show so that my cousin Alyse would feel bad that she didn't get there on time. And I wanted to make her jealous, too. So I slobbered on her boyfriend's neck! He's a good person, with a good sense of humor. I'm still wearing Helmut Lang in this picture. I don't remember what Oliver was wearing, but I hope it went well with slobber.