Getting Nowhere, Fast

--- An eyebrow-raising online banner ad promoting yet another restriction meal plan serves to illustrate  contemporary culture's continuing endorsement of absurdly impossible standards for the consummate model of female fitness ---

In mid-November of 2014 I labored over a blog essay, one of my longest, dissecting the bizarrely-proportioned physical ideal popularly considered en vogue, as furthered by the Kardashian example along with our traditional appreciation, endorsement, pursuit, and sale of an approximation to an hourglass figure.  Diet culture as we know thrives on pushing a rarely (if ever) achievable body shape and size -- something wholly unnatural and thus in reality only realized through surgery, Photoshop, constrictive shapewear, disordered eating, very very "good" genes, or some combination of the lot.  Well, today, in casually browsing the web on my iPhone, I couldn't help but pause mid-article to capture a screenshot of a promotional link, rather clumsily illustrated, for the latest guarantee of a body fix-all, INTERMITTENT FASTING.  Manipulating hunger cues is of course nothing new, as far as a well-known food deprivation system for controlling one's pounds.  After all, back in 1965 the world's then-number one (if only) fashion doll, Barbie, arrived in a "Slumber Party" version with miniaturized diet books and pink bathroom scale, set forever in plastic at 110.

Nearly sixty years later that strategy hasn't really evolved much, or the numbers involved, despite somewhat more nuanced reading of BMI (Body Mass Index).  Unfortunately for all genders at this point, losing weight isn't enough of a battle anymore.  "Just" being thin doesn't cut it, so-to-speak.  Rather, one's remaining heft, while limited, is expected to be molded into sculpted cantaloupe-shaped breasts and ass (for females) or muscular apple-calves (for men), with xylophone midsections, toned-yet-graceful arms, Pixar-animated eyes, and pillowy lips for really whatever sex you might identify within, if at all.  I'll be so bold as to presume that this is yet another near-impossible set of standards that has evolved to keep us forever trapped in a consumer's dilemma of perpetual self-dissatisfaction and striving.  We will always be hooked-and-baited into throwing our money towards whatever trick (for most immediate results), or longer-term lifestyle system (for more comprehensive and carefully financed makeovers) that should most convincingly guarantee our #glowup moment.  And with that being said, I present the offending ad.  

And, yes, I was in fact reading about Madonna's children.

Commencing Countdown, Engines On...

...or, more to the point, gowns on!

Despite having had made no legitimate contribution to anything of significance produced at the time —that is, aside from copious soiled diapers and spoiled nights for my parents— I consider it with great pride to count myself among the products of 1982, be it film to fashion to music.  My mind first runs to the many illuminated screens captivating America, be it theater-wide with surround sound or living-room-small and dual-speaker.  At immediate reference come affectingly bleak, game-changing fantasies Blade Runner, The Dark Crystal, and The Last Unicorn; in our homes the launch of Cheers, David Letterman’s The Late Show, Siskel and Ebert’s approachable At The Movies, and, blessedly, the final musical routines of Lawrence Welk's gasping-along, increasingly out-of-ouch revue hour.  (Of course, the kitsch quota on TV would be resupplied tenfold by the introduction of David Hasselhoff's ridiculous Knight Rider and —capping its sophomore outing— the continuing, weirdly captivating histrionics of the OG Dynasty.)  Cresting over the radio waves would have been new tracks by Duran Duran —the coolest band to ever reference Barbarella— alongside the best of Men At Work and charismatically chameleonic David Bowie.  Meanwhile, on the actual, post-disco dance arena, no less than Madonna herself was rocketing to NYC club success with her plucky debut single, "Everybody," succeeding Debbie Harry's Blondie which would disband after the release of the group's sixth studio album.  Lady Madge’s sweeping influence upon the decade’s look would be unparalleled by few others, although there is equal argument for properly recognizing the shoulder-padded diva-du-jour Joan “Alexis” Collins, if not those legwarmer pioneers within the urban dance troupes, also of New York, populating “Fame” —be it in the 1980 film version or its successful 1982 spinoff, serialized for TV and of the same name.  And of course there is the aforementioned Ziggy Stardust a.k.a. The Thin White Duke a.k.a. future goblin king.

I am compelled to submit these thoughts this evening because today began my one-month countdown to turning the intimidating age of forty.  Thus far, in loosely planning for the event, I’m considering the resurrection of this Studio 54-worthy, rather appropriately named NEWLEAF by Samir fan-pleated mermaid gown.  The garment, seen below, is not from 1982 per se —internet sleuthing proves it reached maximum exposure closer to 1986 when no less than Vanna White, then the perfect likeness of glitzy pageantry, donned a shorter version on the cover of PEOPLE Magazine in what was known by the manufacturer simply as "Style 9870."  Nevertheless, it’s evocative of the era and has thus far been really only collecting dust in my closet —along with, I imagine, moths were it not of a slinky metallic acetate!  It’s probably my favorite of the dresses I currently own, having been once-upon-a-summer purchased on eBay when I was young and naïve enough to believe I’d ever see a need to command Hollywood-level glamour or attention.  (Incidentally, according to a post found on the blog Alluring Marilyn.com circa early 2015, at that season’s Golden Globes actress Jessica Chastain and singer Lana Del Rey were both spotted in the sort of “knife-pleated lamé” once conceived as a glistening golden halter-neck body-hugger for Marilyn Monroe by her good friend and costume designer William Travilla.  As reported by this source, Del Rey was in fact donning a vintage Travilla design that night, while Chastain was in Versace, although easily mistakable for the same.)

In all honesty, I'm not sure if I will feel the need, confidence, or sheer ambition to ever publicly display myself in the "Travilla-via-Vanna" knock-off, but I’d like to think that I indeed WILL before my milestone year reaches its final hours on August 25th, 2023, should I still be "around."  And If for whatever reason I should shuffle off this mortal coil I respectfully request to be buried in it, or else burned —despite the likely toxic fumes and stale nicotine musk of that particular synthetic garment.  And now with all that having been stated for online consumption, I am officially saluting the class of '82, be they graduates of the crib (such as myself) or of the strongest threads in the polyester acetate-type fabric of early-'80s pop culture.

"Sweetheart Jazz Solo"

 - A tribute to Gina Ekiss -

23 1/2 in. x 18 in. abstract geometric painting featuring reproduction sketch portrait from “Heads From Life: Charcoal, Crayon, Pencil” (Walter T. Foster, published 1930) comprising of shredded paper collage of torn magazine pages, iridescent & matte spray paint, acrylic & latex house paint, black glitter, adhesive (both Mod Podge and glue stick) on stretched canvas — an adapted piece from August 2019

For context, you can Google the key words in my title to see info on this woman’s iconic motif, initially conceived in 1989 but released thirty years ago in 1992 by the Sweetheart Cup Company, (subsequently purchased by Solo, who made it unmissable packaging). As I commented to my sister earlier upon her surprised reaction that Ekiss has been rightfully identified, albeit only as a belated afterthought (such as in Entrepreneur seven summers ago), it's certainly one of those styles, reportedly a top-selling stock design, so recognizable to that era -- like shoulder pads, sequins, Hammer pants, teased bangs, high-waisted jeans (often acid-washed), snap-bracelets, or the Flying Toasters screensaver. It represents a rare, positive use of Internet sleuthing and a happy ending, although I don't believe royalties were ever shared by the manufacturer. But at the very least this designer's work is properly credited and gaining revived attention by Millennials, so appreciative of the late-nineteen-eighties and early-nineties that almost any once-dated pop culture fashion element from two to three decades ago now threatens to be resurrected, wryly but also often with genuine affection. And that it was called "Jazz" -- as opposed to, say, "Turquoise Crayon Scrawl" or "California Summer Breeze" -- makes it all the more fitting AND hilarious. I can imagine it stretched across a figure-skating leotard in an Ice Capades routine, perhaps a choreographed moving display featuring Tonya Harding or one of her equally tacky brethren...

CLIMATE CHAOS: Views 1 & 2

A cheeky set of ModPodge & paper collages mounted on 10 inch square black stretched canvases to mark the sweltering temps of midsummer, and to serve as a plea for our overtaxed planet.

No. 1:  "Bearing It"

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No. 2:  "Baring It"

Summoning Summer: Abstract Art Updated With A Playful Nod To Fireworks Displays

How’s this for “star-spangled”? Just in time for Independence Day I updated two works from an August 2019 post, adding encrusted sequins and shading with spray paint to the previous base of latex acrylic house paint with pearly waves of iridescent white. Measurements for these companion pieces are 24” x 15” for the larger, the other 11” x 14” — both on stretched canvas.

The Larger Canvas (Painting A)

The Smaller Canvas (Painting B)

 

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