Godammit, I’m Mad!

*Listen here

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Amanda Palmer shows attract misfits,
The disenfranchised
Cute gay Latino boy with his Mohawk lover
Noserings must get caught when they kiss

My sons are amped up and ready
One angry about taking off his hat.
The other
Protects me from a big sweaty douche
Who pushes up behind me, up
Against me with his big male self

Amanda is sad about Michael Jackson
But not sentimental
Billie Jean is not the one
But is
The one we want her to sing

She opens her legs at her piano,
Wide open
Creamy thighs like the ones men
Always talk about.

I see for the first time
Why they want to bury their heads there
Amanda works us over like a first rate whore
And delivers us from our petty differences

Even the big fat girl in the wedding dress
Takes on the glow of a martyr in holy communion
With the Source

I feel a Christlike compassion for the fat girl
For the gay boys,
The Goth schoolgirls swaying, arms around each other
The nerd holding up a lighter
But not the big douche.

Whenever I need to learn something new, I turn to Susan. If it’s cool, she knows about it. She introduced me to photographer Jennifer Tzar, whose photos tend to have an air of otherworldy nostalgia. This girl with the purple hive is exactly who I want to be!

I now realize that I’ve snagged lots of pictures of Girls I Want To Be. Here’s another one.

She’s wearing a skirt I’ve seen on Amanda Palmer, and god know I’d like to be Amanda Palmer! This next one is in the same ballpark, but with Natalia Brilli accessories.

Now, this one is a little scary but she’s still a Girl I Want to Be (wearing accessories by Manuel Albarran.)

The saddest thing ever is that I’ve always wanted to be blond, even though my BFF’s wig proved beyond a doubt that god didn’t make me blond for a good reason:

Aaaaaah!  So, now the trick is to remember that I’m not 20.  Yesterday, while not considering this key fact, I flipped out over these blue sequin pants….but luckily I remembered this morning, when I saw them again for $100 less.  Be gone, sequin pants, and don’t slam the door on your way out!

At least I can sort of approximate Patti Smith in my Ann Demeulemeester jacket.

It’s good to be satisfied with who you are and what you look like, probably. But wouldn’t a purple beehive be fucking fantastic?!

Skin.Graft is an L.A. based label I first heard about via Amanda Palmer of the Dresden Dolls. That’s how hip I am. But I forgot about it until recently, and now I can’t get enough. Look at the antler girl! I asked for antlers, and the universe answered. The ruffled skirt is one of Skin.Graft’s trademarks, and I think it rules.

For their fall/winter 2009 collection, designers Jonny Cota, Cassidy Haley and Katie Kay pulled their inspiration from “neo-Victorian royalty and overly tarnished motorcycles smashing into each other at high speeds.”

Sounds good to me.

While my bosom was still heaving over Skin.Graft, I learned that Louis Verdad has a new collection that is also heavy on the Goth-inspired leather and spikes.

Mmmmmm. When I retire to the attic like Mrs. Rochester, I plan to be swathed in Louis Verdad on the occasions that my Victorian mourning gowns are in the wash.