When planning an outfit I like to start with a strong accessories plan, then throw it all out at the last minute.
It’s a twisted variation on Coco Chanel’s idea that one should take off the last thing one put on before going out for the night.
It’s all just fashion anyway.
The jaunty jonquil, sign-bearer of spring in beauty and delicate fragrance, has heralded the arrival of slightly warmer weather. It looks up at the sun, seemingly as thankful as we are for its warmth and light. It also shudders in the wind, shivering the way we might when the sun hides behind the plentiful clouds.
On the morning these photos were taken, the sun was out and about, and the day looked to be kind. Spring sometimes starts in fits and spurts, and we accept the sun as it comes.
These are happy sights, worth slowing down and taking a moment to appreciate. To savor. To get down on the ground beside them and bring your nose to their wispy perfume.
A reminder of what matters.
And that none of it lasts forever.
That such a statement even needs to be made speaks more to the awfulness of intolerant and hateful people who have an issue with trans people, because I guarantee every one of them has never been bothered by a trans person in their life. If you happen to be someone who does have a problem with it, you don’t need to justify it to me. Just ask yourself why you care.
We aren’t put on this earth to make things awful or even the least bit difficult for other people. Why go out of your way to hurt someone that has nothing to do with your life?
Much like this crocus, which I almost missed entirely, the Lenten rose has come into bloom without fanfare or announcement, so I almost missed it, given the late date of my garden examination and clean-up. Happily, the blooming season of the Hellobores is rightfully renowned for its duration, even if it has been known to bloom through the snow at precisely the point when it’s likely to be missed.
I finally got around to start the yard cleaning, and I was on my fifteenth lawn bag or so of leaves and branches and debris when the sight of this Lenten rose stopped me in my tracks. Maybe it was the sunlight glinting through its pink petals, or the surprising warmth of the day, but it felt like I was seeing it for the first time – and I heard the universe whispering in stern voice to pause and take in the spring days, even when they feel dreary.
The wintry rush that formed the bulk of April had me wanting to hurry into May, but the laws of science have it that an object in motion tends to stay in motion – and if the motion is increasing, it’s more and more difficult to slow things down. We will want the days to slow to a leisurely trickle come summer, and this is the time to start practicing that.
Easter, like the spring weather, showed up later than usual this year, and now that it’s over we can begin the summer prep work in earnest. Andy has just about drained the pool (preventing a breeding catastrophe of frogs that their singing seemed to be indicative of) and we are quickly headed into the end of April. Before that charge, a look back at this past Holy Week in the weekly recap. Blessed be.
Dreamy music for the spring season.
Our lone Dazzler of the Day was Jennifer Tilly.
Anniversary accommodations in Boston.
… and a cocktale from the present.
The traditional terrifying Easter bunny post.
A Saturday night always glows more warmly in the mind when thought of on a Sunday night. Yesterday we had our first hint of summer, as temperatures soared, and a rainstorm washed away the dusty remnants of a sweaty afternoon spent mostly outside cleaning the yard. I managed to make some headway on the spring cleaning, which is good because we are behind on that front. Home ownership, blah, blah, blah.
By seven o’clock, the rainstorm arrived, and it was then that I began my daily meditation. I lit a few candles and watched the soft light against the darkening sky. Even as the rain fell, and the clouds swirled, the world looked blue from inside the living room.
A stormy night seems at odds with the song selection here, and that sort of contrast is life. It sets the mood, sparking a sort of aural light, burning like running water.
Andy has started the process of opening the pool, starting with draining the water off the pool cover. Spring has been set into motion.
When it comes to scary Easter bunnies, this has always been up there, and please don’t send me scarier versions; I’ve been traumatized enough. Originally I was going to skip over an Easter post of this photo but I’m told it’s tradition, and I get the feeling people would rather look at this moment than just about any other moment I’ve shared here for twenty-plus years.
Happy to please, happy to hurt, happy to bleed for your ravenous entertainment.
It’s amazing that I’m not more averse to purple tulle and tutus worn around the neck. Happy Easter to all the fuckers who love to see me in distress!
PS – The ad below popped up immediately after I sent the tulle comment to my friends, so yes, Virginia, there is an Easter Bunny and they are watching us.
Shape-shifting and skin-shedding, like some cross between a snake and an octopus, the divine diva transforms into fairy form again, doffing the dresses, stripping naked, and lighting upon the latest fancy. Fancies founded on the flimsiest wind or whimsy rise and fall on those trifling notions. Back in 2005, I was still trying to find myself, trying on various guises, discarding them, then trying on something new. Personality is fashion when you’re still in your twenties, even when you think yours is already established.
It’s astonishing to think about how much of our life is erected on the most insubstantial of images – the life we pretend to lead, the life we want to lead, the life others think we lead, and the life we actually lead. Behind these images, what might be left? What might be true? What stands when the rest falls away?
~ The Divine Diva Tour: A Fairy’s Tale ~
A present-day word on this section of The Divine Diva Tour: A Fairy’s Tale, as I now have the luxury of presenting this with the perspective of the twenty years that have passed since its initial release. At that time, liquor was a fun and mostly harmless aspect of my life – I played up drinking more than I actually drank because it was the province of tortured poets and self-destructive writers – it carried the decadent glamour of ruin that calls to most artists at one point or another. It may have cast a spell, but I was eagerly and willingly spell-struck. I also felt, quite correctly as it turns out (but not even I trusted in it at the moment), that I could shake off the spell whenever I really wanted to do so.
It would be easy, and somewhat accurate, to blame such a growing use of alcohol at the time to all sorts of reasons and circumstances. I could point to genetics: my heart still shudders when it recalls the night my Mom told me her father had died an alcoholic. I wasn’t more than twelve or thirteen at the time, and it was the first crack in the crumbling visage of family perfection I’d been raised to believe. I could point to the calamity that growing up gay in a small town in upstate New York in the 1980’s and being raised as a strict Catholic was. I could point to any number of things that led to my embracing any sort of escape possible, including a lifelong social anxiety that no one seemed to notice despite my repeated and desperate cries for help. But none of that is helpful, and ultimately the only person responsible for me as an adult was myself.
Those were demons I couldn’t acknowledge in my twenties, and this fun cocktail photo shoot was only the first glimmer of my attempt to face up to the part alcohol was playing in my life. It came under the guise of glamour, of the antics of a demanding diva, of a fabulous night out and a cuttingly-witty bit of repartee that downplayed any underlying seriousness.
It sacrificed and delayed any substantive improvement or evolution.
But the drinks were so pretty, and the accessories so fine, that the sleight of divine hand lifted the fairy along his journey.
~ The Divine Diva Tour: A Fairy’s Tale ~
Twenty years ago I loved a good cocktail.
I also loved not-so-good cocktails.
It was less about the goodness and more about the liquor.
Vodka was my poison of choice at that time, preferably used in generous fashion in all sorts of blasphemous ‘martini’-type drinks. (A true martini is only and always made with gin.) But vodka had its moment in the late 90’s and early 2000’s and I was fully on board for it.
One of the tenets of The Divine Diva Tour: A Fairy’s Tale is the idea of escapism, and nothing provided a quicker means of escape for me than sliding down the rim of a cocktail glass and into the possibility contained therein. It wasn’t an artistic elixir I was after, or a specific taste or flavor – I merely wanted to be sedated.
And alcohol, for all its party-themed folklore, was first and foremost a depressant, designed to bring one’s inhibitions and spirit down to a manageable level, and if you drank enough of it sedation would always and eventually be the end result. The downward slide to get to the bottom of the muck, where sleep seemed to hide, felt like the most fun trip to be had, and I raised my glass to all the glory there.
Back in 2005, booze still held its glamorous allure, and I was far from realizing how I was using it to mask and treat deeper and darker demons. I also genuinely don’t believe it was detrimental to my life, aside from the occasional lost night or morning-after, and in your 20’s that’s how life sometimes should be. If I didn’t get it out of my system then, I’d likely still be getting it out of my system now.
That did not mean there weren’t moments of crying over spilled martinis, and the drama inherent in a cocktail, which made it a punchy visual piece of The Divine Diva Tour (and foretold of future projects like ‘FireWater‘ and ‘The Delusional Grandeur Tour‘).
~ The Divine Diva Tour: A Fairy’s Tale ~
Let us take a deep breath before we resume the weekend posting schedule of ‘The Divine Diva Tour: A Fairy’s Tale’ – one that affords us a moment to look back at our story thus far in the following links:
~ The Divine Diva Tour: A Fairy’s Tale ~
Without a strong structural narrative, this project was more about shifting images and the kaleidoscope of identity. Refusing to be just one thing, straining against the confines of limiting labels, and trying on a multitude of guises were just some of the themes at work. Escapism was another integral aspect informing the journey, and we’ll escape to a time twenty years ago in our next post…
Is anyone who may be reading this old enough to remember Phyllis Diller? She was a comedian in the 60’s and 70’s whose work was so hysterical her mark bled into the 80’s. It’s a different kind of comedy compared to what the kids are accustomed today. A kinder comedy, perhaps, but just as killer. Witness her roast of Lucille Ball below. Happy Friday!
As we segue into the spring and summer seasons, please remember that it’s better just to lightly steam linen garments, never iron. Part of linen’s charm is in its scrotum-like appearance.
The light is magical when it illuminates the clouds, and the sky behind them turns a bit deeper in blue.
Like clouds of cotton candy.
Whimsy eludes me at the moment.
The notion of it will have to do.
Enjoy your Friday, and your weekend.
The Divine Diva invites you for a cocktail again tomorrow…
With spring hesitating to show off her true finery, I find myself feeling wistful for summer. It’s a bit soon but the heart wants what it wants when it wants it. There’s nothing so terribly wrong in wishing for a slightly warmer and sunnier clime than we’ve had of late. To bide the time, a little link list of summers that have come before:
Last year’s Coquette Summer was a smash in many ways, most of which got written up here.
A sad summer was looked back upon here.
The summer of 2022 was so fun that it had not just one recap post but this second one as well.
The summer of 2021 seemed less fun but that didn’t stop it from getting a part two too.
I am closing out this look back with the summer of 2020, which was billed as insane and must have truly been such, because it came with a whopping third post.
