Monthly Archives: October 2010

I’m Turning Into a Hobo-Chic Superstar

If you do a quick review of We Look Awesome, it becomes pretty apparent that at heart I’m really just an overweight middle-aged gay man who lives with his mother (or at least calls her everyday). Seriously, I’m a bit more obsessed with Patrick Swayze and The Golden Girls than the average 25 year-old female, no? Speaking of, let’s take a look back at a photo from last week’s post:

and reflect on how much I look like Rue McClanahan in it:

Point made? Yeah, I thought so.

Anyway, despite the fact that my outward awesomeness belies the sad truth inside, I do occasionally get opportunities to do really cool things (however limited due to living in the suburbs…but that’s only temporary…RIGHT????).

So though some might think it’s a tad pathetic that I only got to see two bands at CMJ, I’m gonna file it under “better than nothing” in the interest of acting my age, gender, and sexual orientation.

I’ll start with a note on the second band, Fan Tan. I can’t really think of a better description of these guys than the one found in the CMJ edition of The Deli Magazine, which explains the “wish we were in a massive rainstorm and there was a camera shooting down on us from a crane, because then we could outstretch our hands and lift them high to [the] heavens while shouting a roar that’s equal parts joy and pain” that their music evokes. Seeing these guys definitly made me feel like Tim Robbins in Shawshank Redemption:

but replace the prison with Williamsburg, the rapists with that bartender who wouldn’t give us free steak and eggs (I TRUSTED YOU!), and Morgan Freeman with a group of enjoyably intense and talented musicians. Yeah, that probably works.

And now for my faves:

I’m Turning Into!! Aren’t they colorful and the best? Don’t they defy gravity?

To describe these guys, I’ll steal another quote, this time from fellow CMJ performer and Tayisha Busay glitter girl Ariel Sims, who aptly said, “I swear to God, I have not met a more irresponsible bunch of guys than I’m Turning Into”. As such, about four months ago I asked these guys to send me some pictures and quotes best capturing their awesomeness and they never did, forcing me to put them on the spot right after their show.

Still, I think the boys represented themselve pretty accurately.

Edd Chittenden (left) called his style “cut offs and hobo wear with bright colors”. Steve Tarkington (right) said he chooses his clothes “based on what I wore the day before” and told me the inspiration for that day’s outfit was that he’d “been wearing these clothes for a while”. And Jhon Grewell (center) said “I wear clothes that look like my girlfriend’s clothes, but they’re not, because I don’t have a girlfriend”, to which he added “(wink)”.

Basically, the raging irresponsibility and general homeless rainbow aesthetic of I’m Turning Into all mesh serendipidously to one overwhelming effect: these guys are a ton of fun, and it reflects in their music and performance. Check it out (my apologies for the poor video quality…I was using an emptied falafal bag as a tripod):

And check them out here www.myspace.com/imturninginto, and here www.twitter.com/imturninginto, and here too www.imturninginto.bandcamp.com. Because isn’t fun great?

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Love in a Time of Tiny Top Hats: The Shopping Edition

For someone whose clothing addiction will very likely lead to a featured spot on Hoarders (fingers crossed!!!), I very rarely shop anymore. This is mostly due to years of over-spending and impulse control problems that I’ve only recently been able to quell with the use of psychotropic drugs (too real?). Still, looking awesome requires a certain amount of output, and last week I found myself forced to leave the comfort of my own computer for some necessary items.

Anyone who’s ever had the displeasure of shopping with me will tell you that it’s a frightening experience. While I pride myself on my remarkable efficiency and eagle-eye for excellent items, most of my friends and lovers find the experience jarring and stressful. So in the words of that tall, light, and handsome leading man, now I go out alone if I go out at all. However, now that I’m back in the ‘burbs, there are some pleasures in shopping that you don’t find so much in the city. You know, games like “Which Shapeless Sack Should I Buy?” 

Where you have to choose between the short shapeless sack or the slightly longer one (note that both are marked as size 2). So fun.

Games aside, my mission was clear: I needed a new (preferably mini) bowler and a blazer for interviews, both of which I successfully acquired:

Hmm…my bangs could use a little poofing there…

Pretty good, huh? You’d hire me, right? With gams like that? Sure, I’m no Lauralou or anything:

But that’s just sick. Like, female body builder sick. Nah, I’m just jealous. But what can I do? Not all of us are willing to crush the skulls of babies and small animals between our thighs just to tone our legs.

I digress. In addtion to the acquisition of these exceptional necessary items during my shopping trip, I also took the time to learn a few really valuable lessons.

First, sometimes things cost $10, and so you have to buy them. For example:

I also learned that sometimes you find a mustard color sweater, and since mustard is one of your favorite colors, and sundresses aren’t really appropriate in October, you have to buy that too:

More importantly, I learned that sometimes the things that cost $10 are so awesome it’s actually ridiculous, and so you have to buy them too. These things are frequently pink, pleated, ruffled, AND tiered:

But perhaps most importantly, sometimes things are so magnificent that you are actually powerless against them. You are drawn to these things, compelled, as if by forces beyond your control. You don’t know if it’s right or wrong, all you know is the benefits so outweigh the consequences, you have to take the risk. In the end, this is the story of one of those things:

That’s right, if you just believe it, there’s nothing to it. So now here I am, living the dream in a tiny white top hat, complete with sequin bow and open net veil.

But wait, does this mean I’ve forgone all progress and fallen back into old habits of over spending? No way; costs for the day totalled just under $50. Sometimes I’m the best.

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An Ode to Transition

Two months! Did you miss me?? After being too stressed from writing about trauma, then being too stressed because I’m going through trauma (yeah, that’s right, I just made a vague reference to my personal life. Whatcha gonna do?), I decided to suck it up a bit. I mean I can’t keep coasting on search engine hits forever, you know? “Magical land of alakazem,” “stewardess fucking pilot,” and “white big butt thick thighs” (has ever a phrase descibed me better?) just aren’t enough to get me to the top.

So I decided to turn my frown upside down for a minute and write a little ode to this transitionary period in my life. Because one day, when I’m Senior Executive Editor at Really Important Publishing Co., I want to look back at this time and laugh in a way that is perhaps a bit too maniacal and over the top.

But first, the cold hard facts. That’s right everyone, your (and my) worst fears have come true. I am a waitress with a master’s degree. Serving up your morning coffee with a side of rhetoric, and a pinch of regret. But hey, there have been awesome waitresses before, right? And the cafe I work at is super cute, despite the fact that my uniform consists of a t-shirt (gross!) and JEANS (GROSSER!!). They do allow me to wear my little do-rags though, so I work it.

That’s right, red hair: an indicator of pre-transition times. Oh [nominally]      happ[ier] days, how I miss you so[-so]!!

Now before I proceed, I should make it clear that I in no way look down on waitressing or waitresses. In fact, if you’ve ever had one, you’ll know that there is nothing better than a professional waitress. However, there’s also nothing worse than being a waitress when you really don’t want to be. Although, I imagine this is true of any profession. It probably also really sucks if you’re a brain surgeon but you really want to be a tap dancer. I once had a nurse who said he was really a DJ. I mean, as his patient, that was just scary.

On that note, let’s take a look at some awesome waitresses. Like Dawn from Season 1 of True Blood:

Yeah, that’s right, I watch True Blood. So what if it’s not cool? It makes me happy. I deserve to be happy. I don’t have to defend myself to you. But why Dawn, you ask? Two words: nice ass (not pictured here).

Or Shelly from Twin Peaks (maybe I could get away with wearing that hat):

Why Shelly? Because her husband beat her with a sock full of soap bars! Come on, I’m obvs a trauma junkie. I eat that shit up.

But the be all end all of cute waitressness? The one and only Sarah Connor, before she became the mother of the future leader of the free world (You cannot prevent judgment day. You can only postpone it.):

Grad school did not prepare me for this. But this whole situation is only temporary, right? RIGHT????

In other news, it’s Dollar Bill’s birthday today!! Happy 61st Dad, and get well sooner. In the meantime, I’ll post embarassing photos of you on the interwebs (left, circa 1955ish):

I know what you’re thinking, and yes, high-waisted pants DO run in my family.

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