Flourescent lights are spawned from the devil. I've never seen one person become more appealing after stepping into their freakish wash. I for one can become so disheartened after trying on clothes in a flourescent lit dressing room that I will often leave the store immediately following the trauma. And God forbid if I try on a swimsuit under flourescent light. That's enough to make a person forget the beach all together possibly forever. Flourescent lights have the power to make me feel like I'm in middle school again...and have just started my period...and everyone knows it. Flourescent lights cackle mercilessly when I inadvertently try on the wrong size. It's like they have tiny spotlights at the ready for every single flaw. Today the lights belly laughed at even the eye shadow I had on. They're demonic.
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I just finished watching Superstar in a Housedress: The Life and Legend of Jackie Curtis. It was interesting. Jackie was one of the primary characters at The Factory during the 70s and starred in Warhol's films Women in Revolt and Flesh. But Jackie was also a playwright and poet that received considerable critical acclaim on his own, as well. The story was both hopeful and hopeless. Jackie was a brilliant writer and performer addicted to drugs who scratched his way out of the lower East side and took gender bending to another level. He committed to neither a male or female persona. The incredible part about it is that people just went with it. Lou Reed even memorialized Jackie in his song "Walk on the Wild Side." All through the documentary, people would say, "But that was just Jackie." like it was an everyday thing. Anyway, during the film, I was taken aback by Joe Dallesandro. I have read so much about Joe Dallesandro and Paul Morrisey and that whole group from the 70s, but I seriously had no idea exactly how hot Joe was during that time until I saw this film. No wonder he was in so many of Warhol's films. What I didn't realize is that he was also in Cry-Baby and The Limey. Go figure.

Namaste