Yeah, but I kinda need him here now; I’m late for work!
This year’s entries for the OFPC can be described by an adjective a writer of my acquaintance used to refer to international mail in the 1970s and 1980s: “lentitudinous.” I can’t find a formal definition, even in Oxford, but I’ve always taken it to be a £50 way to say “sluggish.” This point in the competition always drives me up the wall, and makes me start worrying that I’ll have a small pack to judge. I’d rather have scads of entries than a mere handful. That sends me off into the convoluted coils of Flickr, looking for evening gown shots that aren’t necessarily on theme, but might be contenders.
Please keep me from buying a bottle of St. John’s wort this year. You still have time to enter! Of course, you should do so only if you want a shot at L$25,000 and an opportunity to bask in Hollywood-like glory for a time. You know how to find the rules (grin). And, if you’re on Flickr and get an invitation from me to enter, don’t turn it down. It’s no guarantee of placement; I give the invitation to anyone who has a likely looking photo. But it is an encouragement to take your shot — or do another shot, and submit that one officially!
Let’s get physical, physical
I wanta get physical
Let’s get into physical
Lemme hear your body talk, your body talk
Lemme hear your body talk
Olivia Newton-John, “Physical” (written by Steve Kipner and Terry Shaddick)
The time has come once again, boys and girls! The Flickr group is open for submissions of your finest evening gown photos, and the speculation is growing — who will be the best-dressed avatar on the Hollywood red carpet when the Academy Awards are handed out? Around the Grid is accepting submissions for its 8th Annual Oscar Fashion Photo Contest!!
The contest group will open for submissions once this article is published, and the prize pool has been placed in escrow (so to speak). Time to talk to your stylists, find your hairdresser and book an appointment, call in favors at the jewelry stores, and decide what you would wear if you became a nominee for the little gold man. For those considered outstanding in their evening couture and artistic portrayal, there shall be (15 minutes of) fame, (a bit of) fortune, and hopefully fun in playing the game.
Entry is free; just submit a photo to the appropriate group on Flickr, or leave a comment with a link to your photo. (However, make sure to read all the rules, okay?) The prize pool is again guaranteed at over L$50,000. That’s right, fifty thousand lindens! First place will receive L$25,000. So, if you want a chance at filling your virtual closet at my expense, come on and enter!
At last, the preliminaries were over, and I pulled the really pretty stuff on! The gown from Byrne was a lovely minty pattern shot through with silver threads, and just legal for the television cameras if I made it onto the tube. I smiled at what might happen to my reputation if I had a Janet Jackson “wardrobe malfunction” and one of my boobs leaped out from the deep slash of the bodice, but the gown was too nice to turn down. I paired it with white opera gloves from Sweet Tea, Hortensia heels from Glamistry, and the latest suite of jewelry from Lazuri, named Paris.
Jem nodded at me as I pulled on the bracelet and made sure the catch was done up. “Important jewelry, check. Perfect makeup, check.”
I laughed a little. “Dress ready to slide off my nipples, check. Or is that, ‘Nipples ready to pop out of my dress’? That oughta catch the photograpers’ attention!”
“You shoulda went strapless, then,” Jem replied with a grin as she turned off her e-cigarette. “No worries on this gown, even if I take a deep breath.” Jem had chosen a billowing purple ball gown from Gaall for tonight’s affair (we both purchased our dresses at the December round of Swank); and a queen would turn green at the fortune in diamonds circling her neck and wrists, as well as dangling from her ears (all done by Zuri Rayna), called Winter Symphony. KC Couture heels were on her feet, and she was elegant indeed tonight.
“Yeah. Could you have said that if you had gone dressed as Rita Hayworth, out of Gilda? I’ve done her twice in the blog; I know that dress.”
Jem deigned not to answer, but she giggled as she waved the black envelope in her hand and tucked her e-cigarette into her clutch. “You got it all together, Harper?”
“From the shoes to the perfume. And Conan has the limousine out front. Let us rock!”
Are you getting ready to rock? The group opens in just three days. I will say that there won’t be any changes in substance from previous years’ editions of the contest; the three of us couldn’t come up with ideas we felt improved on the basic theme of the night. So if you’ve participated before, just review the rules and go for it. If you haven’t entered in the past, read the rules. It has been pointed out to me that they’re long, but we’re talking L$50,000 in prizes here. We’ve worked to make them as clear as possible, and we will answer questions.
We at Around the Grid just picked up the news of Dani Plassitz’ sudden death on December 15. While not a friend, I admired Dani’s dressmaking skill many times, and her abilities as a singer and performer are also well known to many in Second Life. Her many friends will miss her, and I hope you will join us in praying for her and her family at this time — an especially hard time to lose a loved one.
Both dresses by Dani
All the poets I’ve ever read
say lovers, old or new, must meet
in fields of green grass or new-mown hay
places blowing with wildflowers
and warm with sunshine
But you don’t find places like that everywhere and when
You can’t meet your lover in a field of poppies and daisies
when you’re in Michigan in the winter
Two may plight their troth ‘neath an arch of roses
but never in December northlands
Still, the heart recks not the time nor place
for a lover’s reunion
The skies may be grey as a ghost’s eyes,
the wind howling from the heights,
flurries blowing in the breeze
instead of peony blossoms —
but when he calls,
wherever he is,
whenever he is,
you will come
You need not even touch him;
just see him
and naught else matters to you
The freezing blast becomes
balmy breezes of May
The seabirds’ croaks transmuted
to the song of bluebirds
And a world of snow and brown grasses
refashions itself in your heart’s eye
to the greenest of gardens
all for the sake of one person
You rush to meet him —
or he comes to you
for it doesn’t really matter —
and you wouldn’t trade where you are
for the warmest resort
in Spain or Italy
All you want is the touch of his hand
the caress of his arms
the brush of his warm lips against yours —
and the promise of later
when even this shall pale
before bright moments in the dark
and the quiet
and the solitude of two
What do time or place mean
to the union of hearts?
To those in love and separated
a second apart is an eternity
and Eden a barren desert
To those rejoined
a day is too little
and the emptiest desert a paradise
When you find the one who’s the Other You
cling to the time together
glory in the places you can share your lives
and glorify God in gratitude
for the happiness showered on you both
— Harper Ganesvoort, 2016