Art in the Heart, Dirt in the Skirt:It's So You edited by Michelle Tea

I like to let the city dress me up in its love. I know it's a good day when I leave my house and by the time I come back I'm wearing a completely different and more bizarre outfit.~Rhiannon Argo, "Art in the Heart, Dirt in the Skirt"

I'm not a very good book blogger. Sometimes, I don't want to write something meaningful--I just want to thrust It's So You: 35 Women Write About Personal Expression Through Fashion and Style in your hands and say "Read it! It's amazing! There's clothes and feminism and it's happy and soulful and incredibly queer friendly. There's a girl with bee shoes and a butch pinup paper doll and and grandmother with a marshmallow dress and Proustian memories of red lipstick and dressing to rock your own fucking world."

This is one of those times.

[My grandmother] loved every detail of dressing herself, and she instilled in me what she considered the important rules of fashion: Don't dress like everyone else; dress to make yourself happy; and once in a while enter your own fantastical world where it's perfectly normal to wear plastic and newspaper...I spent many days fashioning my own creations under her direction--a skirt made into a beehive, complete with beaded bees attached by coil springs, a pair of pants covered with little plastic rabbits and trees, and a long tube dress covered with fuzz to resemble a caterpillar. When I wasn't dressed as part of another world, I wore a sometimes-dizzying array of mismatched colors, prints, and textures.~Debbie Rasmussen, "My Grandma's Attic: Dressing Up and Acting Out"

I've noticed that Michelle Tea picks writers like herself: raw, experimental, but not without humor and quirks of personality. They have dizzying highs and heartbreaking lows and every experience in between, feverish to get the most out of life and living, to make sense of their pasts, to see beauty in ugly things and vice versa.  There are artists, models, many writers, witches, urban professionals, a psychic, a fashion designer, from every creed, color, social strata and gender expression. And the clothes! Oh, the clothes--pink Mode Merr girdles trimmed in rhinestone, a crushed velvet babydoll dress to wear to your first Ani DiFranco concert, a Hawaiian barkcloth dress, and it goes on, with a lot of love for thrift/vintage/DIY style. But more than just personal sartorial histories, each essay meditates on personal style as expression through a feminist lens. It's smart, incredibly readable, and wholly inspiring, just like Michelle Tea herself. So much love, so highly recommended.

Maybe fashion is our way of marking our evolution. I am wearing what I am wearing to help you know who I am and who you are looking at looking at, and most of all, who is looking back. ~Jill Soloway, "Look at Me"

• *The Michelle Tea Shrine
• *Her Myspace
• Notable contributers: Parisa Parnian (<3 Rigged Out/Fitters!), Ellen Forney, Felicia Luna Lemus, Debbie Rasmussen, Nicole J. Georges, Kate Bornstein

The Half-Twisted Twists of Trinity Place

Photo from DiscoverBlackHeritage

Have you ever had a writing project come out of nowhere?

My dear friend Callan and I have a running joke about how we were once a vaudeville act in a past life. (If you've seen us interact in person, you'll know why.) I told the jokes, and she rang the gong. Because sometimes I have whims to write in rhyming couplets, this bit of an inside joke became the start of an adult picture book about how we rose to fame as the Half-Twisted Twists of Trinity Place. Here's a sample!

The Village bohemes had the wildest tricks
In the year of Our Cod, ninteen hundred ought-six
I once heard the tale of exceptional girls,
Wit like a sledgehammer, bon mots like false pearls.
At the corner of Church Street, in a chill garrett loft
They'd fired their latest of agentish toffs.
Rie tired of penning their dreadfuls for dosh
And dreamed of careers with a bit more panache...
"We'll find us a job to which we can admit
And make names for ourselves, we'll be a sure hit!"
Callan pondered, "The name, I suppose is the thing,
Though Faffney Codswallop sure does have a ring."
"I see the bright lights," countered Rie with a sigh,
"There's more to living than paint and peach pie."
"You never complained bout the baking before,
Till you fell for the pie-hating poetess bore."
"Nevermind her, I've got us a plan,
We'll make our own fame,and find you a man!
Our names up in limelight, our act in the Times,
Fans throwing knickers and committing small crimes!"
Callan wondered and thought till her hair held a curl
And said, "What can we do, mere slips of a twirl?"
"That's it!" cried Rie with a hand to her face,
"We're the The Half-Twisted Twists of Trinity Place!"
(As it must be explained: the young twist-and-twirl
Is Cockney for ambitious, naive bohemme girl.)
Rie sobered and said, while grooming Cal's pup,
(Their curls would match before the night's up.)
"We'll need costumes, and sets, and connections, what's more
Everyone in the theatre's a bit of a whore."
"There's a whore in us all," quipped Callan with glee,
"None like fallen dames for unique joie de vive."
"From where do they fall?" asked Rie absently
"Do we have the bread for the booking fee?"
"Oh, fees," said Cal as she gathered her kit
"Let's work on our costumes and practice our bit."

They were models of virtue who'd fallen from grace
The Half-Twisted Twists of Trinity Place

There are two more verses, so far--if you'd like to read it, please toss me an email!

A Leaving Shangri-L.A. Reader

Those of you that know me outside of cyberspace are familiar with my "paper livejournals"--the scrapbooks I carried around quite frequently during college, filled with daily ephemera and striking beauty from the hallowed archives of bloglandia and elsewhere.  Owing to my college's generous printout limit, if I found something I loved, I arranged it in an attractive manner and printed it to scrapbook in one of my bag-sized journals (5x7, unlined, preferably spiral bound, medium weight paper--I'm picky). I've fallen out of the habit, but have all sorts of good intentions to start up again; the fall season always inspires me to work on creative things of all sorts.

What went into a Paper Livejournal? Lists, stories, fanfiction, pretty bits, anecdotes, anything inspiring and colorful and a bit magic that caught my eye.  Friends have asked for favorite bits so they could make their own, and now I oblige.

*Inspirational Show Tunes: the story of the ukelele-playing, showtune singing subway protestor from a few years back

*Dance of the Sugar Plum Lesbians: this one speaks for itself. Awww.

*100 Surreal Things that have Happened to Me, by Seanan McGuire. This is famous for a reason: funny, creative, and yes, surreal. On a more serious note, her 50 Thoughts on Writing are incredibly useful.

*Revenge of the Librarians, originally published in The Mag, all about why my future colleagues are badass. Know it, read it, love it.

*Feeling Fae: Glamourbombing as Magical Acts of Revolution: Is it strange that I put academic papers about guerilla art in my journal? This is the best Glamourbombing 101 I've seen thus far.

*Combating Dailyness: an excerpt from my favorite book nobody's ever heard of, Milking the Moon by Eugene Walter.

*How to Transform Your City: by the proprietors of Newmindspace, a performance art troupe

*Becoming an Artist: a retrospective/how-to on how to give your own party inspired by SARK's How to Be an Artist poster.

What about you? What pieces would you add to your scrapbook? What photos, what writing? Inquiring minds would love to know!

Mermaid Crossing

Photo by me! Cape May, NJ.

Good day to you! Yesterday was my second day of school and work as the Slightly-Less-Competent-Than-The-Last-GA-But-Not-As-Slow-As-The-GA-Before-Her GA. (Cookies for the reference.) I am back in the world of academia, and happy to be there. However, that means that updates may be a little slower coming until I'm settled into a routine. Never fear, I'll never abandon this blog or my lovely readers.

Speaking of mermaids, I'm Here, I'm Queer, What The Hell Do I Read? (Love your blog name!) alerted me to the existence of a picture book that needs to join the rest of my collection. Ever hear about the Mermaid Parade in Coney Island? It has a reputation as rather a wild time, but has grown more family friendly in recent years while still retaining a bit of that debauchery. The illustrious Melanie Hope Greenberg has immortalized said mermaids in her latest, Mermaids on Parade. Here's what Ms. Betsy Bird (of Fuse #8, also one of my blogging heroes) has to say:

Really, one of the few parades left in the city that successfully melds that old-time wildness with the newfangled kid-friendly vibe is Coney Island's annual Mermaid Parade. Topless women and babies, that's what you'll see these days. It seems an odd parade to celebrate in the format of a picture book, but Mermaid Parade attendee and illustrator Melanie Hope Greenberg is up to the challenge. With her bold colors and sense of pizzazz, Greenberg brings to life an event that continues to enthrall both children and adults alike with a love of fun, costumes, and general unavoidable weirdness.

I would have adored this book as a child--carnival atmosphere, bright colors, a theme park, mermaids, New York City happy families and a touch of genderbending, all wrapped up in one colorful package. (Just like the books I'm writing!) Can't wait to read it!

Here's Lee Wind's original post, with an interior shot.

Judging a book by its cover...

Confession time: I can be swayed by pretty things. That's how I discovered the joys of Patricia A. McKillip and the Girlosophy books. Tonight while gathering links, I ran across these two beauties by Maryrose Wood:

WHY I LET MY HAIR GROW OUT tells the story of Morgan, a heartbroken Connecticut girl who chops off all her hair in a fit of angst after her boyfriend dumps her on the last day of school. Her frantic parents spring into rescue mode and send her on a "let's-help-Morgan-get- over-it" vacation.

Before you can say ow, my butt hurts, Morgan is biking her way across Ireland, where a most unusual accident sends her tumbling back through time to a magic, long-ago word full of faeries and enchantments. She even meets a hunky warrior-dude named Fergus who really knows how to treat a girl who's part goddess — guess who that turns out to be?

***

[How I Found the Perfect Dress finds]..soon-to-be-seventeen-year-old Morgan Rawlinson, snarky Connecticut teen and half-goddess from the long-ago days of Irish lore, takes another wacky romp through the faery realm.

This time it's Colin, her own freckle-faced Irish hottie, who's under a strangely yawn-inducing spell. To save him, Morgan has to find a leprechaun. In Connecticut. And that's only the beginning!

This book has magical prom dress shopping, a rather unusual game of mini-golf, and a special guest appearance by Gene Simmons. Seriously. I hope you have as much fun reading it as I did making it all up.

Color me bemused. I may just have to check these two out. (Kiss the Pages has the Fae in it. It's research.)

Capsule Prize Reviews: That's Bold

Like the shiny little prizes you get from a gumball machine, here are three titles I've picked up in a recent library jaunt involving brave teens defying tradition for notoriety, to stand up for a cause, or just to make some excellent music

The Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks, by E. Lockhart, had me sold at the promise of mischievous doings in the name of gender equality. Frankie's an incredibly likable heroine; she plays ultimate Frisbee, writes papers about the Cacophony Society, and falls in love with P.G. Wodehouse's writing. When faced with an sexist secret society, she infiltrates and turns it on its head. This is a fast-paced and fun story with trenchant insights about the screwed-up nature of teen socialization. However, no moralizing harpy is Frankie; she takes what she's learned and uses her wit and savvy to get a message out there; her secret reign as a Basset Hound is responsible for The Library Lady, The Night of a Thousand Dogs, and the Canned Beets Rebellion.

Wide Awake, penned by David Levithan, has the quirk and charm of his less serious YA fiction. Duncan, our hero of this near-future novel, is thrilled at the prospect of a gay Jewish president. When Kansas declares a recount of votes, he travels with his town's Green Party team to protest, along with his furiously idealistic boyfriend, two self-proclaimed Jesus Freaks (who come from a movement that asked What Would Jesus Really Do?), and a couple of old-time dreamers from the 90s. Wide Awakes suffers at the hand of some heavy-handed lessons in politics and society delivered via the prospective president, his minions, and Duncan's peers. Despite this, it's little details (the non-shopping malls where you barter for self-shaping jeans and roasted marshmallow perfume, community-made pancakes, and the fact that pop music will always be painful to listen to), perfect emotional moments (including one of the best love scenes I've read in YA fiction, ever), and optimistic look at the future make it a good read for the curious and fans of Levithan's other work.

Plastic Angel, Nerissa Nield's first novel, is the sweet story of a budding folk-rock duo. Randi's a drifter on the edge of the popular crowd; Angela's an outcast for being too beautiful, too successful as a child model. With Randi's famous songwriting father's gift of a guitar and a certificate "good for FIVE lessons," she's inspired to turn around their boring summer by starting a band. Both girls are preternaturally gifted in music, and experience the joys of song scribing, secret recording sessions, and dressing like you don't give a damn under the gentle glow of their guardian glow-in-the-dark plastic angel. With Gellie's mom hell-bent on raising the next Lindsey or Miley, the two girls deal with family squabbles, social machinations, and some really heinous agents in pursuit of their dream. Gellie's mom is truly vile (SHE GAVE HER GUITAR TO GOODWILL. BITCH.) until intervention, and her adverse reaction to Angela's interest in music seems overblown, especially in this age of pop-superstars. Besides that sour note, it's a cute first work with some excellent emotional depth and fantastic descriptions of the joy that comes of creating music. Included with the book are sample tracks from This Town is Wrong, the novel's soundtrack--so you can actually listen to the songs the girls write in the novel.

*E. Lockheart's website and blog
*Read the first two chapters of The Disreputable History...
*David Levithan's website
*Read the first two chapters of Wide Awake
*Nerissa Nield's website
*Read an excerpt from Plastic Angel

Literary Fashion: Dear Mrs. Winterbloom

The studio. Smaller than I'd imagined, more people than I'd imagined as well. A table full of breakfast fixings, I took tea in a packet that matched my current hair color and shocked me with its delicately floral, berry sweetened scent when I dipped my nose into the cup for a sip. Meeting with the execs, the minor execs, and a wardrobe maven that brought to mind images of a corporate bird of paradise. A peek in at the writers hashing out last minute hiccups in the script, plans for a read through later this afternoon. All in all, more attention was paid to me in 4 hours than I'd ever received in my entire life. Funny how things worked like that- one day, you're kissing ass with your child psychology professor in hopes that your midterm grade might be bumped up a few points, and the next you're hopelessly searching for memories of that jargon you'd forgotten when being lectured on the mission statement of the children's television show you'll be hosting.

Amandine hosts a popular local children's television show on their city's PBS station, where she gets to dress up and talk to puppets--essentially the best job ever, if you keep a healthy sense of irony about the production. She loves the Union Square greenmarket in the summer, buying weird art off of street vendors, and fighting with her tarot deck.




Clear blue eyes behind cat-eyed frames overhung with heavy auburn bangs. Kittenlike features, pointy nose and chin when she uncovers them. Black and white striped shirt matching her sneakers, serviceable jeans covering a softly curved form, bare arms covered in indeterminate splashes of tan jade green red turquoise on the left, jeweled toned swirls on the right. A smudge of green on her cheek, more of the same on her hands, including three nails painted the same hue.

Havela Silver, called Ava, is a sculptor and puppeteer at Chimera Studios. She enjoys making faces at the animals in the Central Park Zoo, chalking trenchant literary quotes in unexpected places, and learning how to make excellent crepes from her best friend at work, Asher.




That first Monday morning of spring break, I showed my Mama our homework assignment for art class. I don't have a problem with Picasso, I like what he does with color and whirly lines. But my mother had other ideas...

Sarah Jane lives in Brooklyn with her moms and her goldfish, Alice B. Toklas. (She inherited the goldfish.) She likes gold stars, watercolors, and watching babies hold conversations with inanimate objects.

And one last family set, for the road: