By Angela Gardner
Girls, let me tell you, it's cold here on the East Coast. How cold you ask? Cold enough that this month this girl's dish is cracked. We're havin' a cold snap and it makes me say thank you Mister Macy for that bargain priced fake fur you sold me lo those many years ago. It looks like a million, only cost me fifty bucks and nobody knows how cheap it was. Oops, I just told the whole world. Well, maybe some people are still not hooked to the Internet. And now, on with the show.
I've been a feminist since I was trained by my ex-wife back in the Seventies. She was very involved with the National Organization for Women and I learned quickly about the need for equality of the sexes, and all that stuff. I just couldn't learn to put my dirty socks in the hamper. But that's another story, one that ended in divorce. Anyhow, as much as a man espouses feminist ideals, he really doesn't have a clue until he walks a mile in a woman's shoes. (In the case of most crossdressing males the shoes are four inch, sequined pumps with an ankle strap.) Despite all the gains of the women's movement lots of guys still treat women wrong. (And I'm not talking about refusing to buy you lobster till you put out.) I had the occasion to enter a large department store that sells all the name brands in one central place, if you get my drift, in a quest to purchase an ink cartridge for my printer.
I have a Mac and I use a StyleWriter II. (What else? I always gots style.) I happened to be crossdressed and passing very well, I might add. The sales guy in the computer department said "May I help you ma'am?" I let the "ma'am" pass since at least he assumed I was female. A "miss" would have been better. I told him I needed an ink cartridge for my StyleWriter II and he lead me to the proper area. I saw a large number of Brother cartridges and many HP cartridges but nary a single StyleWriter did I espy. Then I happened to see the colorful little Mac apple hidden behind some HP boxes. I pointed it out and my helpful sales guy picked it up. I read the box while he held it and it did say it was for StyleWriters. I pointed this out but my sales guy did his best to avoid the sale by insisting that it wasn't what I wanted.
Rather than be a pushy broad I decided to take my business elsewhere and successfully purchased a cartridge at a large office store down the road. Now, it's possible, and I can hear people saying it now, that I had been "read" as a guy in drag and the salesman wanted to get rid of me. I really don't think that's the case. He didn't seem uncomfortable and I never notice any sudden starts of enlightenment. I really feel that he thought because I was a woman I couldn't possibly know what kind of cartridge I needed. I could almost smell his superior air and hear him thinking, "This woman has no clue. If I sell her this she'll be back to return it tomorrow." If I went in to buy it dressed as a man I bet he would have listened to me when I told him it said right on the box it was the cartridge I needed.
The point? If you are going to dress like a woman and experience the world from a feminine perspective you should be among the first men to be aware of the fact that women have to put up with subtle forms of discrimination that the majority of men have never had to put up with. It really makes you wonder why they didn't kill us all centuries ago. I've had it happen when I know the people involved are aware that I'm a guy in a dress. They assume that since you want to be feminine... you must be dumb. As we all know, this just ain't the case. (Of course some of us doesn't talk so good, and uses "ain't" and other slang expressions.) Don't forget what you've had to go through while being a woman when you deal with the genuine girls in your life and never assume, cause you know what that does.
One would think that the most successful drag artiste in the country would remember her roots and reach out and touch the little queens who admire her. One would be wrong. I tried to get an interview with RuPaul as part of my editing duties with LadyLike magazine. Miss Charles was appearing in our town and I said "Hey, what a great idea. I'll interview her and we'll get a few shots for the next issue." No such luck. A call to her record company got me the number of her publicist. A young lady there said I had to fax the request for an interview on our LadyLike stationary and gave me the fax number. I put together a fax and sent it. Days went by and there was no reply. I told my publisher, JoAnn Roberts, to give them a try. When she called they said, "Sorry, Ru just can't do another interview now." Well, it seems the poor thing had worn herself out with all the interviewing and posing and while I can understand her stiffing the local weekly paper I have trouble with the fact that she didn't do anything for LadyLike. After all, we're talking about an interview for her people, others who are enamored of the world of glamma.
It's girls like us who put her on that lofty pedestal and she should remember that while she's up there in the lofty upper air. You're a meanie, Miss Charles.
OK, hissy fit's over. I can now go on.
Our other tall, glamourous sister in the rarefied atmosphere of celebrity, Miss Howette Stern, has released her book, Miss America, in paperback. She sold gadzillions of the hardback and now she's looking for deeper market penetration (oooh) with the paperback. To make it attractive to folks who may have picked up the hardback and looked at the pictures Howette promises 8 new full color shots that weren't included in the hardback. And, to add some collectability to the paperback it's been issued with Howard, I mean Howette, in three different hairstyles. Did you buy the blonde cover or the curly red head cover? I've got all three! The book comes wrapped in plastic so no one opens it and looks at the pictures without coughing up the cash. She'll need to the money to pay for her online service. Miss Stern has said she spends a lot of time in the basement cruising the Net and engaging in pseudonymous chat. I bet she wears lingerie and calls herself Debbie. "What do you mean am I a woman? Of course I 'm a woman."
JoAnn Roberts took me to see Charles Busch for my birthday. (30 years old... again.) Mr. Busch was performing as part of the American Music Theater Festival Cabaret series at the fabulous Barrymore Room atop the Bellvue Hotel in Center City Philadelphia. We dined first at the lovely little restaurant, Cafe on Quince, and then ankled it over to the hotel for the show. Charles came out in a black velvet top with a full length skirt lined in green plaid that was open at the front to reveal a pair of black velvet evening pants. His opening number was all about his love affair with wigs and if the song is to be believed he must have more wigs than most of the female impersonators in the world. Let me stop right there and say that female impersonator is the wrong term for Charles Busch. He prefers the politically correct term, gender illusionist. I did find it hard to think of him as "he," since the glamma was dripping off him.
(Actual Black Glamma fur in the encore.) He makes a point though of being introduced as "Mister Charles Busch" and making sure the MC referred to him as "him." This is, of course, a show biz requirement. It's necessary to keep reminding the audience about what they're seeing so they appreciate the illusion that much more. JoAnn and I appreciated the show and I would love to see more of Mr. Busch in the future. His impression of a Long Island housewife's tribute to Piaf was brilliant. I also found the mention of Lypsinka to be quite amusing. Charles claimed she was his governess. Catch him if he comes to your town.
No doubt you got the Shakespearian reference in the title of this section. I bring up the Bard since he's got a new movie out. Well, Will had little to do with the production since he's been dead for hundreds of years but he wrote the play and they've made it into a movie. Twelfth Night is, and that's why I write about it, a story of crossing the gender border and the consequences.Viola is ship wrecked and must disguise herself as a man. Of course a woman falls in love with her and there are all sorts of complications that all get sorted out in the end. There is comedy involved but as Entertainment Weekly says, "under the masque of comic diversion, it's an exquisitely moving inquisition into gender and belonging." So kittens, if you want to add a little culture to your life slide on down to the cineplex and catch Twelfth Night. If anyone asks why you're wearing women's clothes tell them you're doing a little gender inquisition, and hit them with your whip.
And spurs and all that Country Western type of stuff, it seems that Philadelphia is the home of another Diva. She's the DJ Diva of Country Western Music and she spins locally for several gay clubs who have Country & Western nights. Her name is June Bromley and I remember her from when she first rode into a Renaissance meetin'. That was awhile back. Then, she rode off into the sunset and we ain't heard much from her, till now. The national gay and lesbian Western magazine, Roundup, named June the DJ Diva in a recent issue and I've been meaning to get it into a column for a while but things have just been too busy. Congratulations June and I'm sorry I took so long to mention the honor. June describes herself as a "lipstick lesbian no-nonsense biker chick" and she was a session drummer for RCA records back when she lived as a guy. She plays guitar now as well as working as a DJ so maybe the new year will bring some June tunes. If she does happen to be working on her own album, there's the perfect title, from one Diva to another. Good luck June.
The recent Cinemax documentary, All Dressed Up and No Place To Go featured many Renaissance girls including a prominent display of JoAnn Roberts. Apparently the director felt that I was far too exciting to be dwelt upon for too long so my appearance was limited to one scene. I quite understand and fully realize that my radiance would probably be responsible for far too many television repair bills. Most picture tubes can't handle that kind of glamma for extended periods. At least I hope that's why I was only in one scene.
In any event, the tape will be available for those who wish to
purchase a copy sometime near the end of 1997. I'll be sure and let
you know. Now, here are a few tapes that you can get right now.
Available right now on video: The Birdcage, La Cage Aux Folles 1,
2 and 3, Prime Suspect 3 (The British detective show about
teenage prostitutes and crossdressers), The Best of Kids In The
Hall, Kids In The Hall (Seasons 3 & 4), Ed Wood, Glen or
Glenda, Polyester (with the fabulous Divine), Privates
on Parade (with John Cleese- a theatrical troupe of
British soldiers tap dance and crossdress their way through WWII),
La Cage Aux Zombies ("the Naked Gun of drag queen
movies"), Kids In The Hall - Brain Candy, You've Had Worse Things
In Your Mouth ( a cooking show spoof with Billi Gordon,
the 400 pound TS you've seen on greeting cards), Black Lizard
(starring Japan's most famous FI as a villainous jewel thief), and
many more including The Queen, the 1968 documentary of a drag
pageant that starred Rachel Harlow. You can get a copy of the
TLA Video Holiday 1996 Gay & Lesbian Film Catalog by
calling them at 1-800-333-8521.
Enjoy your videos darlings and have a happy Thanksgiving. Be sure to eat the low fat mashed potatoes and stuffing so you will fit into your holiday gowns for the many parties you must attend. See ya in December sweeties. Send any messages or cash and jewelry to The Diva.