When I despair, I remember that all through history the way of truth and love has always won. There have been tyrants, and murderers, and for a time they can seem invincible, but in the end they always fall. Think of it. Always.

attributed to Gandhi

“I do declare, this is the only Scarlett i’ll eva Know!” Angel Brynner on visual impugnity in the dirty, deep south.

I am not a Southern Belle.

THIS is said rather ironically on one hand because my quasimaiden name is Bell & you can’t get much more south than the stretch of Montgomery that clan comes from. But on the other hand, the brunt of the bloodline had to run north for slapping more southernly-persuaded folk back in the yonder.

But i love New Orleans.

That being said… There has been a schism felt when it comes to how my, shall we say femininity plays out amongst Southern-angled folk, even here in the heartland of the original free peoples of color. I have “had the summer on Leave of Absence” from work due to a manager  losing his fn marbles the one day i didn’t wear the librarian glasses, getting the EEOC involved instead of the gun. Whole ‘nother tale.

But lately, as i “progress”  towards that sweetspot bday of 37, the latent sexuality at the core of me (celli or not)has been up in arms down here. Acting out. Like Hardcore. Like nyc-hardcore. Needless to say, amongst the hothouseflowering gutterpunks and the bettypage/Gypsy Rose cheeky burlesque vibes I have not felt this awkward amongst since I was in 7th grade searching for fashion meaning in the arcadian stripper shops of Cleveland’s downtown after quotidien class confinement at  Cleveland School of Science.

I’ve no issue with being The Misfit. It’s a moniker i Have happily reveled in the odes of joy of due to that whole Loner thing had in spades my whole life. But the concept of “mis-fit” i’m dealing with now is less the television ingenuity of an episode of “My So-Called Life” & more like…tight shoes.

Which is the one thing me…with these beautiful, big-assed angelic holy feet just can simply not do lol.

There is a difference between proper & polite.I’m “proper.” lol Even underground, i was tagged proper whether i was dancing round in high heels & men’s undyrs or not. But I’ve never been known to be the most “polite” chick on the block.

Although being here HAS gotten me to at least TRY to have the “weather conversation,” it usually goes something  like yesterday as i sat waiting for the streetcar to the FQ:

Elderly Lady: [sits down]”It sure is hot today, isn’t it?”

(it was about 80 degrees,with a NICE,COOL BREEZE..the nicest its been since April)

Angel: “I think it feels great!:)”

Elderly Lady: (shocked) “What?!” {“I cant believe you thought i was asking you that for you to tell me what you thought!” scrawled across her suddenly less polite face lolol}

Angel: “:D I think it feels wonderfu! it’s the coolest it’s been here in four months! [another cool breeze blows] Feel that cool breeze? this is wonderful!!:)”

Elderly Lady: hmph.[not another word in my direction lol]

(end scene)

Now at least…now i know.THAT? Was the difference between Northern proper & Southern politeness.

I was Proper[ read:fine.since you want to talk about it:)i think the weather feels great].

She? before? i’d say she was being an old biddy, maybe having hot flashes ifi was giving her the benefit of zee doubt. Now? I know she was being “just being Polite.” lol  Very much “I gotta sit next to you, may as well say something so you can see me sit next to you.”

Up north, it’s a seat, you sit down, it’s done.  My adaption of”I’ll be polite,but i  draw the line at calling ugly babies pretty for public standing,” doesnt always work here. But it is turning out to be core. lol  “That’s what they made the seat for, whyon’t yall just sit down & ride? why we got’s to have this whole discussion about things?ya know what? nevermind~ “

But back to the clothes.

For the first time in my life, i’ve been defaulting at using my clothes as damn-near insulation, which is unacceptable.Amour? yes. Something in which to hide…it’s like…too much for me. Something drastic must be done to break out of this repressive fabric regime that has its nails in me lol.

When I came across this picture of Vivien Leigh, it made me laugh because it visually expressed what i feel like here….if she had on THIS costume but whilst on the set of Gone with the wind…& it was stapled on lol. & no matter what they did, this was just…i mean she could read the lines perfectly fine in character… but this was what she swept down that staircase in(there was a staircase,right?lol)I have no clue what movie this shot is from, either lol. But in writing, in amassing images to help me mentally even process, much less broach this surreal experience, even  i can see the line is so thin that makes the difference.

The gutterpunksexy thing is soo not me…but perfect goth can drive me into ecstasy.

dirtyhippiesexy is likeone of those phrases that cancels out itself in my vocabulary…but you give me urbannomad & i’ll be curled up in your lap for days.

all these quaint victory rolls & cheeky vavavavoom americanburlesques  make me  quaff…even doff my chapeau from time to time…but  my heart can turn on a dime on the sexy lines of la dolce vita style.

We’ll see how all this plays out as i careen towards the reading/research portion of this whole 4th novel thing lol. But the demand & desire for visual impugnity is full-on. I’m just…embracing it…the difference engine…for what it is…as much as i can. & buying skyhigh stripper shoes to remind me of clackers in nyc possibly grunging out joyfully from time to time. Like memories of snow when you havent seen winter for 3 yrs lol.

Have a great day.