Clint Catalyst

crept up on me like a shadow.

One moment I was in Iowa working with my comrades Dustin and Brian of Novice Industries; the next, rushing to hair and make-up with my pal Aldo o’ the Vento.

Aldo volunteered to assist me with Door Duty for the event, a favor which proved much needed the moment we stepped from what was intended as a brief “helloing” sesh — as pictured below, kicking off the evening with the lovely Jenelle Rensch, graphic design whiz [ and incidentally the mastermind responsible for my CC logo in its final incarnation ], Mssr. Aldo Vento Himselfness, model and co-star in Matthew Mishory’s  biopic Delphinum: A Childhood Portrait of Derek Jarman : a beautiful, lyrical portrayal of the phenomenonicon, which is currently winding its way about the international film festival circuit. [ Not that you asked, though as I'm proud for all parties involved...let the record hereby note : the world premiere was 5 September 2009, at the Portobello Film Festival in London. ]

And oh, but oh : from one photograph to the moment that followed, how swift a shift in decorum. Namely, when AnnaLynne and Rachel McCord arrived at the venue, any semblance of order was tossed out the window like a stale copy of Us Weekly.

Image of AnnaLynne McCord and Clint Catalyst courtesy of
Deeply Shallow: One Man’s Adventure in L.A., by Albert Domasin

As rabid 90210 fanatics attempted to claw their way towards the living, breathing version of “Naomi” they recognized from their living rooms, I did my best to sneak the party of pretty-pretties into the inner sanctum : a seated area complete with Goodie Bags [ sponsored by Janome sewing machines, Fiji water, Tarina Tarantino jewelry, Amtrak, Josie Cotton, and Sebastian Hair Care Products ] that lived up to the name — incidentally, the precise locale where soon enough, leather metallic fabric † stitching nipped and tailored † silkscreened paintings † tricked-out hair with neon nets † make-up more surreal than real, and the spirit of unfettered creativity and unapologetic flamboyance would reign.

After all, why was everyone at the Social Club?

The MOST CORRECT runway debut of the retina-shattering, cardiac arrest-inducing atelier extraordinaire Jared Gold‘s latest collection : a collaborative effort with mega-watt visual artist Joshua Petker.

Above : Rockin’ some ‘tude, with pop legend Josie Cotton

A Brief : my first interaction with Mssr. Gold hearkens back to a bleak time in American history. We met shortly after his 2001 debut in Manhattan on September the 10th — an inauspicious moment for anyone to premiere clothing design, as it transpired mere hours before the atrocity known as 9/11.

Eight years have passed in the interim, and still: the creative outpourings of this inimitable virtuoso never cease to amaze.

That being said, it should come as no surprise that for his latest effort — a pairing of superpowers with painter Joshua Petker — my expectations were anything but low.

Pictured above : Petker with photographer Cyn Yen

Per chance you aren’t familiar : Mr. Petker’s art is most God, indeed. Over the span of the last few years, I’ve admired his murky-canvased beauties from afar — so when the opportunity presented itself this Christmas past, I was stoked to make his acquaintance and bear witness to a bit of the brainstorms and dark-clouded creative rumblings between these two masterminds.

All due respect, before I venture into the particulars of the Gold x Petker mash-up, please allow me to praise the work of this inventive gentleman . . .

Up first : two images pilfered from an interview in Fecal Face, a.k.a. the art-blog equivalent of masticating a corpus callosum.

“[Petker's] work is like that girl you know will destroy you but somehow you just can’t resist.” — Manuel Bello

Entitled “Hunting For Witches,” the painting [ above ] slaughters me, maing…SLAUGHTERS me!

And next, A portrait from Petker’s recent watercolor series [ 2009 ] :

So. Much. Gorgeous!

Fine art from a fine fellow : truly . . . truly.

At any rate, speaking of ‘fine’—there was no shortage of squealing over Twilight‘s hunkasaurus

Kellan Lutz

among the crowd at the Gold versus Petker extravaganza.

Full disclosure: I’ve never seen Twilight , nor have I read any of the books.  Said another way?  I wasn’t aware Who He Is—but not to worry…it’s not as if frenetic whispering girls and paparazzi flashbulbs going pop! were in short supply.

It would be remiss to make no mention of rock icon Billy Corgan of the Smashing Pumpkins:

pictured here with the Cute-As-They-Come  Kim Bruder

More images await “beneath the cut…”

However, since both the event and amount of photos collected –cough!STOLEN cough!–is of epic proportions, I’ve decided to divvy the lot up into three parts: Before The Madness (on which your gaze is fixed at this moment), Petker’s Paintings In Stiletto Pumps (the catwalk-stalking and crowd-gawking), and Dance.Music.Sweat.Romance (the after-party).

That being stated, Please! Click Away– for More Gore Gore Gorgeousness…

Also of great import: the evening’s hosts and high-falutin’ D.J.s

Collected here–in no particular order–peel back those lashes and LOOK UPON:

Transgender Juggernaut and Glamorpuss (S)Extraordinaire Calpernia Addams

with The Gender-Bent Ongina (from RuPaul’s reality series “Drag Race”)

Christian (of Scarling.), A Most DrumSexy Samantha Maloney, and vocalist Jessicka

(Check out the duo’s latest project, The Ingenues ♥)

music (and trouble!)-maker Giddle Partridge of The Partridge Family Temple

photo credit: Amanda Brooks

Style Fiends Anna Estella and Audrey Kitching with Rio, from the indie boutique Beauty Is Pain

Have I mentioned how much I effing adore that Nick Verreos?

Shutterbugs Mike Mead and Debbi Rotkowitz

The Ever-Ebullient Performance Artist Phae-Dra with partner-in-crime/one-off designer Hesham

Michele Mills, who’s fiercer than a cholita shiv copped at 5th & Bonnie Brae,

and cracks a vitriolic sense of humor effortlessly as upwardly-mobile white girls exhale into pale pink wads of chewing gum;

then sigh in borgie bordedom. *yawn*

Here’s to aspartame explosions to jolt the freon pumping from my shriveled little heart!

Up next/Up next/Up next…

Michelle Star with performance artist/perv extraordinaire, Thistle Harlequin

Actress, Juggler and YouTube phenomenon Olga Kay with Bridget a.k.a. LilyLuLay

Spot-check Olga Kay’s ‘Totally Tubular Ways’ as well as

The LilyLuLay-day!

(I like, totally dare you and stuff… so there!)

Testament to the axiom that there are three types of people in life:

Those who make things happen; those who watch things happen, and those who ask (envision delivery a lá the archetypal ‘Mouth-Breather’ for full effect): “What happened?”

Freelance journalist and Eternal Girl-Of-The-Moment Lina Lecaro and lens-meister Josh “Curious Josh” Reissepitomize what it is to exist bulls-eye in the (dialated) pupil of SmogCity’s night-life.

Neither Lecaro nor Reiss are neophytes to How Things Burn At 1 a.m.,

And for that I am grateful: Unless one has ‘Scene El Al’; truly, what barometer can exist for What’s Next?

Adding to that riff of 20/10 among a town full of faux bespectacled visionaries?

Counter-culture Hyper-Hyphenate Amelia G, whose myriad of talents include

writing, public speaking, niche identification, internet marketing, photography and editing–

the latter two duties of which she shares with counter-culture conspirator Forrest Black of Blue Blood:

Fashion mavens Kit Scarbo (née Pistol), Rhea Cortado, Sweet P, and Alison Nieder.

The lovely Scarbo and Sweet P are designers and fellow “Project Runway” alums, while

Wordsmiths Cortado and Nieder keep a keen eye–and poised pen!–for The California Apparel News

Mad respect for all four ladies… REPRESENT!

The band Motionless In White , like kohl-colored Post-It notes…

Visual reminders that relationship between music and fashion is a symbiotic one

(The “Mary Kate” to that “Ashley,” yo! )

Kat Lee a.k.a. Kitt E. Katt and Kaila Yu of the Nylon Pink empire:

It’s a band; it’s a Stickam show—add in their jewelry line Hello Drama,

And it’s a way of life.  Period.

As if your head weren’t already spinning around like a majorette’s baton at half-time,

(Or so goes the case with me and mine!)

Photo…Below

Trailing Left to Right in the following 5-Up are:

Visual Artists, Bandmates and Husband/Wife creative powerhouse Morgan Slade and Elizabeth McGrath

(whose band Miss Derringer produces aural fixations on-par with Slade’s awe-inducing photographs

and “Bloodbath McGrath”s bone-crushingly beautiful dioramas)

~whereas dead and center, we have Plastigod and his Plasticgoddess , featuring

Colleen Duffy from the band Devil Doll to complete this Pentagram of Creative Power.*

* Phrase used with a fierce wriggling of tongue-in cheek, chitlins: i.e., don’t freak; don’t freak! ;D

Visual Artists Natalia Fabia and Gary Baseman

along with

further luminaries from the Los Angeles art world

(as Velveeta-laden as the term “heavy-hitters”  may  be, it applies here, maing; it applies!)

Tim Biskup, his sweetness Nicki,

Gary Baseman, and another ‘double-threat’:

Marion Peck and Mark Ryden

Whereas ever the embodiment of art, she is:

Tarina Tarantino, Reigning Queen of Sparkly Bijoux

exudes boundless enthusiasm and an undiluted insight that life is meant for living :

(No need to dial whine one one for a waaaahmbulance, but still…it’s a trait I esteem, the ol’ “Lust For Life.” So be it.)

I mean, C’mon–the smileage from that head-dress alone?  Slaughtering with Swarovskis and over-statement…Love Love Love It!)

And on the tip of “Over-Statement”?

For the runway show, Janine Jarman and her obscenely talented team from Hairroin Salon

paired up with a posse of make-up maestros

under the direction of Noelle Nichols

(featuring one of my ‘repeat offenders,’ the phenomenal face-beater known as Stacey Hummell ).

The outcome?

Total transformation of the models into living embodiments of Petker’s artwork.

A case of life imitating art imitating life, one could say…

Here’s a shot of Joshua with Jared’s tour manager/chanteuse Jessicka to illustrate:

and another, in which Jessicka is flanked

by fetish model Courtney Cruz (L) and D.J. Victoria (R)

Pictured below, the aforementioned Beauty-Meisters

Noelle Nichols, Janine Jarman, and make-up artist Cambria Serrano

Cuteness Amped “To-The-Nth”

with DJ Filthy Rich and the Chica-Behind-My-Multiple-”Tags,” Irene Urias

of Hairroin Salon notoriety:

model Camille Waldorf, who induced a sharp inhale of

“Un-be-lieve-a-ble!” upon cursory glance of this perfect shot:

model Julia Boone, another stunning canvas the hair/make-up/design team imbued with Petker’s esprit de (cotton candy-hued) corpse:

Corpse, however? A neon-tinged take, insofar as her impeccable war-paint and directional styling, perhaps… though

that long-limbed beauty with tresses lapped by flames, Amanda Fields is a mega-model, as far as I’m concerned.

So much so, in fact, it’s a battle to post a mere mention of her based on a two-dimensional image: beauty in stasis. Of her ability to ‘Give Face,’ there is no question—though it’s when Fields steps onto the stage that she doesn’t just shine; she crackles, shredding the catwalk with an high-octane ~(interruption!)~

[PAUSE BUTTON, HEREBY PRESSED.]

As if I haven’t already exhausted the concept of a ‘blog’ beyond my *own* breaking point, fer F’s sake!

I mean: if I’m going to endure this torture again; I need to save some of the drool-worthy content…

The following of which includes…

After the smear of a few years/several months, [Oh.How.They.Bleed]

A supernatural force identified only as ‘Larva’ has returned, in a whirling dervish of

flailing limbs and quicksilver spine-snap, magick and cultivated madness:

Akin to this year’s triumphant return of The Legend-Upon-Legends, Kristen McMenamy,

Among the cognoscenti–an admitted minority, and unapologetically at that–there is a poetry implicit in the movement of these Girls Of All Ages, a cadence of secrets told in the rustle of leather embroidered on denim, the flash of a haunting visage Petker french-kissed stroke by brush stroke onto
this, a swish of fabric Gold fashioned into the most glorious wink or nudge in the ribs such a collection never gives.

For the myopic–MidWestern or elsewhere? Have no fear. There’s always another boatload of somniferous sweatshop beige en route plastered with illusory “luxury” tags boasting Michael Kors Lite, ad nauseum.

Besides, what a drag it would be if I saw a posse of pom-pom packin’ tweenage girls at the Glendale Galleria…

Merely the opinion of one, but here’s how mine goes: a full-throated bravo to Gold versus Petker , versus Gold .

Of the win? EPIC– and congrats!

(Whereas I? I am so blearly-eyed and eager to put this verbal monstrosity out of its misery; I can barely handle it…)

Ramblings of the downright adorable little sis, Angel McCord lie in wait for future days–

Instead, savor this: a final gallery post for the time being:

Gabriel Wischmeier and special guest on the catwalk, Miss Deena Marie

from Salt Lake City!

Whew! Again, I cannot emphasize enough what a pain in the posterior this HTML hell of “Save Draft”/”Preview” back-and-forth, back-and-forth,

back-and-forth has been for me…

(Clearly, this is the 21st Century’s message that THE TIME HAS COME TO CONSIDER PROSPECTIVE INTERNS. As in: not really…but REALLY.)

*Sigh*

Whatever the case?  As I mentioned earlier, the next blog I have “slotted” is of the runway show itself.  To tide you over until then, however– Here’s a work of comic genius that was made by the aforementioned Walking Stick model, Miss Deena Marie (Channel name = BeanerLaRue on The ‘Tubes):