… Have to catch an early train
Got to be to work by nine
And if I had an air-o-plane
I still couldn’t make it on time
‘Cause it takes me so long
Just to figure out what I’m gonna wear
Blame it on the train
But the boss is already there ….
— “Manic Monday,” lyrics by Prince Rogers Nelson
I was intending to do something much more casual this time, but I fell in love with this month’s Tres Chic, and so here I am glammed up again.
“…There is never any ending to Paris and the memory of each person who has lived in it differs from that of any other. We always returned to it no matter who we were or how it was changed or with what difficulties, or ease, it could be reached. Paris was always worth it and you received return for whatever you brought to it ….”
— Ernest Hemingway, A Moveable Feast
“When good Americans die, they go to Paris.”
— Oscar Wilde
If you’re blue an’ you don’t know
Where to go to
Why don’t you go where fashion sits
Puttin’ on the Ritz
You can definitely “put on the Ritz” in Kelini Couture. I’m sad to get the announcement that the haute couture side of the store will be closing down, but there’s still the chance to pick up one or two new dresses; while Jem, who had only been to Kelini once, found an opportunity to grab some of the highest-octane gowns on the Grid at a very affordable price.
Taking a smoke break outside of the strip club near the station’s main promenade, the bleached-skin woman tries to gather her energy and determination for the next round back inside ….
I work in the chorus doing three shows a night
Wearing fishnets and feathers under blinding white lights
I’ve served shots to hard hats who had booze on their lips
Been fondled and leered at for an occasional tip
And it don’t get no better, but it can’t get no worse
For the working girl’s world is the size of her purse
From Detroit to Des Moines it’s the same ugly scene
I’m a cog; you’re a wheel
He’s a king; she’s a queen
From the smokestacks to the meat racks
When you’re eyelined and curled
There’s a lot to be said for the working girl
Sweating for sweet water just to run through your hands
Six kids in Cleveland for one wedding band
Tied up to a mill loom for the minimum wage
A nest egg’s a daydream that never gets laid
And it don’t get no brighter, but it’s clearer to see
There ain’t no working girls like the ones on T.V.
From Detroit to Des Moines it’s the same ugly scene
I’m a cog; you’re a wheel
He’s a king; she’s a queen
From the smokestacks to the meat racks
When you’re eyelined and curled
There’s a lot to be said for the working girl
=====
I’m wearing:
Photographed at INSILICO region
What is reality?
Is it the cool embrace of winters chilling winds?
Or is it the tingle you get while walking in the sun on a summer’s afternoon?
They say that magic becomes real at the crossroads
The places not quite here
Yet not quite there
The balance points between “was” and “will be”
When the doors between worlds open
And possibilities are unleashed
The twilight is like a crossroads
The borderland between
The light of day and dark of night
You may slumber through the night
And drift through the day
But then the sun truly descends, and the shadows lengthen
The day’s cares are abandoned
As if they had never been
As the magic grows
You race for your home
But oh, only for a span of time
The power swirls about you
As you shed the weeds of workaday
It caresses and teases, the sweetest of lovers
As you gown yourself in glory
It sings sweetly to all your senses
While you touch paint to your lips
Shadow to your eyes
Roses and musk to your throat
And then the door is flung wide
The spell is set
And it shapes your night like a sculptor’s hand to the marble
You give yourself over to gaiety
Drown yourself in music
Reel in the dance’s intoxication
You flirt and flaunt, tease and tempt
Till you capture the one
Who has in turn captured you
And when that moment strikes
Upon the chimes of the night
Then…a new spell begins
— Harper Ganesvoort, 2017
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Me and my friends are Jem girls
Jem, Jem is my name
Exciting adventure
Fashion and fame
Once you’re a Jem girl
You’re never the same
C’mon, c’mon and be a Jem girl
Jem, Jem is my name
Jem Opening Theme (variant 1), lyrics by Barry Harman
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My Unitarian Jihad Name is: Sister Gatling Gun of Love and Mercy.
My Johari window -- visit and offer your ideas on my personality
