 Earlier tonight I was summoned by Patti to help her dress, do her hair, make-up, and be her little bitch, essentially. I scootled across town to her place and, as I am wont to do, stood frozen as she transformed herself. I love watching her start as regular-ole-Patti and in the space of 10 minutes turn into the gorgeous thing on the left.
Tonight was Mitchell’s gallery showing (pictured with Patti). He runs a rather extraordinary glass studio and they churn out the most amazing pieces of cast glass — babies’ heads oozing out of molten glass, fishboy decanter stoppers, all sorts of beautiful and surreal items.
He asked Patti to glam herself up and play Raffle Mistress in her corset and dominatrix ensemble. And in light of the rich bitches who can be expected at an art opening, he cordially asked her to be the biggest bitch in the land, tarted up and evil. And so she stood scowling in the corner, pushing her tits back down into the corset, grabbing raffles, punching them with a hole-punch, and sending the frightened Uptown crowd skittling away.
Every time I looked her way, I burst out laughing. She was a convincing bitch.
Met up with my old, dear friend Sarah and her fabulous husband Dale at the show. They said they were going to another opening/lecture across town about photoanatomics run by some woman from Philadelphia.
“Not the Mütter Museum on 22nd, perchance?” I asked. This is the College of Physicians museum in Philly down the street from my old house where Badjuju and I spent an exhaustive afternoon examining deformed skeletons, soap-petrified corpses, and mis-shapen babies in jars with brains coming out of their ears.
“Yes, the Mütter Museum. Do you know it?”
Indeed.
Great show. Gruesome, informative, and funny lecture.
Came home to change my clothes for Glam night in the French Quarter where I am going in a minute after picking up this dreamy boy. Going through clothes, I came across an object in a pocket and I realised with a start that Melusine is going to fucking kill me when she finds out that I accidentally pocketed the infamous Quippage Book that has gone missing for a few weeks.
Flipping through it, I see three things written that I had quite forgotten about:
Badjuju: “Women are the ones I trust and adore, but men are the sport I love.”
Marquis: “Look! Ironic accessorization!”
Badjuju: “This is Jeff. I’ve tied his tie. He will be taking me home.”
Check out the Marquis’ Crush o’ the week!
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