Goth Is Dead; Long Live Goth. Remembrances Of A New-Grave Past In San Francisco

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:: Please Click To Enlarge The Following Archived Text/Images ::

:: Con’t ✷ After The “Jump” ✷ With Scads Of Photographs & Flyers
To Incite The Smoke Rings Of Your Imagination ::

B U R N I N G , B U R N I N G

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Legendary Haunt HOUSE OF USHER: A Resurrection

this weekend: Friday, August 13th & Saturday, August 14th
Two Thousand & Ten A.D.

the roving, decadent, well-bedecked beast
is taking up residence at The Uptown in Oakland, CA

“…as the shades of the evening drew on, within view of the melancholy House of Usher.”

:: but what is this ‘House of Usher’—this legendary construct of myth & mirth & mystery—without its cast of characters, its inhabitants? ::

First, Please Allow Me To Present…

Shawni Brothers, Proprietress of The Estate

The question posited, I hereby present a sampling of retinal treats under the auspices that it might inspire any indecisive whine-&-diners of this, my self-named blogature, to readjust one’s posture.

Sir Xavier Haight, The Gentleman of The House
&
Vocalist/Founder of Malign, The Critically-Acclaimed Darkwave Project

Cutting to the chase, with the swath of a switchblade: If you live anywhere in the vicinity of this one-two punch of delectable darkness: even a cursory glance at the gorgeous creatures that follow should propel you off your gluteous maximus & rifling through your closet.

Case in point? The hyper-hyphenate & über-hottie Zoetica Ebb, as pictured above. Of course, you could stay in tonight & lurk endless jpegs of her posted at Biorequiem, her home base among the internet ethers—or you could even go all brainiacattack (accusations of gay? who, me? NEVER. I would not!) & explore Miss Ebb’s prolific outpourings at the subculturally essential—let alone just downright damn sublime—thick & slick & glossy-paged love-letter to alternative culture known as  Coilhouse magazine, of which she was a co-founder.

Or, hey!  Here’s an idea: how ’bout you just stay home with a family-sized bag of Cheetos & instead of licking the nuclear-hued dandruff off your fingertips, close your eyes & BEAT IT, BOSS
all breathin’ heavy & visualizing this fab fascinatrix you might—no promises from me, as this world we live in? a pretty damn cruel place…

But yeah, you might have a chance to stand close enough to do borderline* creepy stuff like fill your lungs with the stink of her hair.

The asterisk on “borderline”?  Bitch, you already know this! Because when we’re crushed-out, there’s some intense delusional hormones released that sell us clichés like how [we] “can’t help the way we feel,” and “no, I really mean it, you guys: this time isn’t like the last time when I said it’s about time I found the right [pick a pronoun, rinse, repeat; double-up on those appointments to the shrink, as close friends will only sigh in disgust, hang up, or pay someone to fark some sense into you. Quickly].”

Kay, I really need to focus here.

Ah! That’s right! The equation of your hormones with a jaunt to Usher this fine eve…

Unless, of course, you’ve slipped past that veritable point of ABANDON HOPE ALL YE WHO ENTER HERE into a life of Ed Hardy sweatpants, woven leather belts the color of fecal matter, headbands from mega-corporate “non-corporate” franchises prominently listed—even & especially if by invisible ink—on the trustafarian American-Apparel-Apparel-Is-My-Idea-Of-Slumming, Ma-a-an pseudo post-post-ironic Hipster Checklist Of [COUGH!] Cool.

✷ Cunty Ranting Hereby Interrupted for A Ceasura of Correctness Maximus ✷

L O O K  †  U P O N
T H E S E † L O V E L Y † L A D I E S

Nakoeth [L] a.k.a. ‘The D.J. Formerly Known As Fuchsia’: Esteemed Provisionist of Hand-Picked Auditory Delights, &
Sorrel Smith [R], A Prodigious Talent of The Visual Arts Who Renders
Her Paintings, Portraits, & Illustrations With Consummate Skill

✷ Palettes Cleansed, Corneas Stimulated…HEED THESE WORDS AS ‘CAUTION TAPE’ FOR YOUR PSYCHE, ✷ As There’s A Shifting Of Gears Back To Vitriolic Territory ✷ (Sorry, mom. Sorry, God.) ✷

Pfft! Oh.&.Yeah: The “Checklist of Cool.” That tripe’s more played-out than Dexy Midnight Runner’s lethal earworm known as “Come On Eileen,”  but then again?  Chances are if you’ve read—that’s read, any blog-skimmerexic stereotypes who’re in full-blown desperato zone, scrolling with sweaty palms & a  staggering 2.8 second average attention span (thanks to the ADHD Pharmers calculated into the same demo/grapho/frankly, let’s-not-get-too-graphic, whose intake of Mother’s Little Helpers fluff up those stats as effectively as a porn set’s invaluable blow-hards working behind-the-scenes)…

Anyway, as I was saying–or, at the very least, attempting to communicate before I reverted to an unfortunate habit of interrupting myself with tangential matter & tossing parentheses around with the same ease as a game of horse-shoes…

:: HERE. HERE’S THIS ::

with Ryan Rosprim [L], Maker-Ov-Musick from Kill Sister Kill: A Band Among the ‘Short List’ of House Faves
& on the [R]? Most applicable? The Court Jester, if anything!
(Incidentally, if I look like a bitch here? Alas! A photographic representation that’s accurate)

You you you, yeah, you: with your insatiable hunger for celebrity gossip, commerce tagged as “sharing a secret” (such a flagrant ploy to incite the domino effect among the dumbed-down click, copy, paste & repost crowd to create viral content…yet just like the anything-but-accidental exposure of thongs several inches above [insert name of trendy jeans] horizon being the visual equivalent of a mating call, it’s as fool-proof as the endless supply of fools).

Umm, yeah. Whaddya say we don’t “revisit” the aforementioned yawn-fest (not to mention time-suck kthnxthoractuallyeallynot) & visualize the rapid sweeping gesture responsible for ~magic~ on a dry erase board.  Yeah yeah, you know: the trademark disappearing act that occurs when ✷ POOF! ✷  It’s  the same blinding white hue working actors & “working boys” have for teeth.

Anyway, so now? Keep that imagination crankin’! Since, upon it, there’s been an addition of verdant green text in which a new topic—an assignment, if you will—occupies that space with the insistence of CAPS LOCK.

The message? Consider this an invitation to (envision air quotes here) follow my lead &
commence whatever personal rituals permit you to complete your destination of being
:: Suited & Booted ::

Above This Text, The Look? Four Words, My Applause: I SEE NO FLAWS

As aforementioned, here’s a dangerously delectable sampling of the historical haunt’s gorgeous creatures dressed in sumptuous fineries.  However!  Before any butt-hurt gloomophiles dial whine one one for the What About Me?! What About Me!? waaahbumlance to arrive, with a stern tone, I reiterate: this is but a small cross-section of the legendary bar’s “intimate associates.” A vast array of ‘regulars’ populated Usher’s environ over the years; these pictures just happen feature some of the individuals who—for whatever various & sundry reasons—appealed to the “peculiar sensibilities & temperament” of this humble blog’s narrator.

Or, to quote Poe (yet again!): my “reserve [has] been always excessive & habitual.”

Here’s to
Cheers to

T H E  † E X C E S S I V E  †  &  †  T R A N S G R E S S I V E

Exhibit A:

Sensual, Though Inherently Too Cultivated & Chic For One Dare To Describe As ‘Slutty.’
Sophisticated, Though With A Sufficient Accumulation Of Accolades; i.e., No Need To Be A Show-Off. An Infectiously Engaging Conversationalist—Perhaps The Most Charmingly Macabre Individual I’ve Ever Met, Actually. If you’re familiar with the photography of Eric Kroll, Steve Diet Goedde, Charles Gatewood, &/or Richard Kern (et al), you’ve seen her likeness: or rather, the image this anthropology major & multi-faceted individual chose to project at that precise moment in time.

A maestro of oil, Anna Noelle Rockwell‘s paintings explore the sublime intersection where
the gorgeous & the grotesque intersect.  Just click it & check ‘em, already… (For feck’s sake!)

Exhibit B:

Gabriele: Conjurer Of Thunderstorms & Lunar Apparitions, Dark Liquidtrance Bloodscapes,
Scrying, Writhing Vampiric Chasms, Stitch-Witchery Of Glamoured Fabrications,
Brightly-Colored Tarot Playthings In A Physical Shape & Smash-Lit State Of Mind
Like No Other, Cemeterial Moonlit Gloom, & Body-Popping.

No typo, that: Black Magic & Body Popping

A individual in a wonderfully warped sense of the word, & a collector’s dream.

Exhibit C:

Though I Can’t Tell You If It’s From When He Was Or Wasn’t A ‘Prince,’
With All Certainty, I Concur With The Sentiment: Natalie? She’s Got The Look, Yes

Exhibit D:

Paris Sadonis: A Master of Multiple Instruments; A Painter, Performance Artist & Musician Known For Pushing Boundaries—Particularly With The Rotating Cast Of Collaborators in The Audio-Visual Pastiche He Both Created & Orchestrates: EXP. ‘EXPerimentation Without Limitation’ is a doctrine among the collective; ‘Catharticism Is The Key To Our Satisfaction’ is another.

» Oh, but there’s MOAR » “Beneath The Cut!” »

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The Gen Art Alumni Fashion Fete

in Los Angeles : March 16, 2010

Gen Art, a national organization dedicated to promoting and supporting excellence among emerging talent, joined forces with 17 of the non-profit’s “Fresh Faces In Fashion” alumni for an event not only celebrating the Los Angeles fashion community as a whole, but also specifically acknowledging the contributions of the designers who have been featured through the Gen Art design platform.

Each of the designers was accompanied by a model to showcase a signature look from their forthcoming collections.

I, on the other treacherously manicured claw, attended

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Scene Et Al: Photographic Evidence Of Adventures ‘Out & About’

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Fantasy And Obsession—Wonderland, A Roving Beast

At Royal/T Café, Store and Artspace

8910 Washington Blvd, Culver City CA

The evening of February 4th, 2010

was a hare-y sitch for photographer Dirk Mai, as captured by Polite In Public.

har, a hardy-har har—Umm, YEAH.  (How ’bout I spare you guys the slab of  Velveeta?  Sound like a plan?)

That’s what I thought…

Chubby Bunny (L) and Yume Ninja (R) of Bubble Punch brought cosplay Correctness for us to look upon,

Whereas Lenora Claire —another ‘repeat offender’ on this humble Dot Com—fully LET US HAVE IT with a mind-melding, retinal-shattering, hot hot hottt hairstyle!

Oh! But what have we here? An adorable  Kat Lee , per chance?

As a matter of fact, yes: yes it is, indeed… and in the haus with her band mate and business partner, the multi-talented Kaila Yu (L)!

Our exploration of Correct Culture continues

with burlesque beauty Courtney Cruz sandwiched between an Alice duo… ♥

(while pssst! Here’s a little “JSYK,” if by chance you’re in the No instead of know):

The estimable Miss Cruz presents “tassle-twirling with a spin” at her once-a-month installment of The Devil’s Playground at Bordello bar. Described by journalist Erin Broadley as “Beyond traditional fan dancing and martini bathing,” the Devil’s Playground “integrates pop culture and niche fan favorites with the classic art of the striptease, modernizing burlesque with cleverly themed, character-driven performances like Video Game Girls, Comic Book Vixens and…Tails From the Crypt.” Known most recently for creating a disturbance in The Force for her Star Wars-themed bump-and-grind, it’s no wonder the L.A. Weekly deemed this Busty Storm Trooper’s resident troupe as Best Burlesque Club of 2009.

Here, Cruz exercised control with chanteuse Jessicka Addams and Mia Vixen, one of The Devil’s Playground performers.

Wait a minute.  I mentioned this was an art opening; didn’t I?

Oh-Kay.

Unfortunately, the gallery ran out of catalogs—so I can’t even credit the Kunstler responsible for the creation pictured above.  That being said, please allow me to segueway back to other deep and meaningful content, such as

the photo booth fun I had myself…ditto, Ela Darling and The Dirkulous Maximus.

Caught here on the other side of the camera is “Nightranger’s intrepid reporter Lina Lecaro,

whose years of  fearless ventures—from immersing herself deep in the trenches of trannies werkin’ the merkin to ravers wielding glow-sticks as if they were num chucks—have garnered her quite The Reputation.

Incidentally, Lecaro “dipped into the population” this eve not only for the sake of a newspaper word count, but also to celebrate the completion of her first full-length manuscript. (No, people: I didn’t say script. Leave those to your dental hygenist, who’ll likely have “something for you to look over” before the luxury of another kind of script gets written.  Oy.)

By manuscript, I mean book—of which her debut is titled
Los Angeles’s Best Dive Bars: Drinking and Diving in the City of Angels.  Its release date is May 1st, 2010

but why not go ahead and pre-order the betch?  Assuming you remembered to close out your tab at the bar last night, that is!   Such a hassle, retrieving one’s 16-digits on plastic The Day After.  Isn’t it?  [AHEM!]  I mean: So I’ve Heard.

“Besides: it’s not like I had a hang-over or anything!  It was more like…a lean-over.”   Yeah.  That was it—

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So, Yeah…I’m Old.

Here are some of the fine folks who came out
to celebrate that I’m now a year closer to the ol’ dirt nap…

Realizing that I’m—ahem—under a bit of stress as of late,
Jessicka took it upon herself to organize a dinner
at one of my favorite local eateries, Casita Del Campo:

Swish Hips Earn Tips:
Rawk Chicks Lisa Leveredge and Jessicka

None other than Miss Lenora Claire was there

Totes lettin’ us have it with the twins!

(Which I’m not mad about…ain’t mad about at all…)

Wordsmith Brendan Mullen of Lexicon Devil, We Got The Neutron Bomb,

and Live at the Masque: Nightmare in Punk Alley fame

Kim Sosore and William Mills—i.e.,

Just about the cutest damn couple in town

whereas

only half of this duo is “lookin’ good”…

and that half by no means is myself!

(Beneath my grip is the beautiful journalist

known as Caroline Ryder)

Of course,

I feel it imperative to announce:

NOT A SINGLE MARGARITA WAS SLURPED AT THIS DINNER…

Jessicka Addams. Lisa Leveredge.

Proof/Pudding?

;D

Mmm Hrmm…

Yeah, right.

Damn shame I can’t blame my own bad behavior

on anything other than…

Luis Payne of Hairroin Salon!

(Now, there’s an exclamation point

that wants to be an interrobang “when it grows up,”

if I’ve ever seen one.)

And speaking of the ol’ “!?”—

I should move on to THE PARTY, fer F’s sake!

However, before I clack a single syllable into the keyboard,

I want to give a

Huge-Ass Honkin’

Load of THANKS

to my pals

Adrian and The Mysterious D

of

Club Bootie

For hosting a birthday shin-dig for me

and my “Thousand Closest Imaginary Friends”

with the legendary Paul V

at

Bootie L.A.

(one of several monthly parties thrown around the world–

I’m so proud to see two pals from S.F. go ‘Global!’)

♥ HIT IT, DEIRDRE! ♥

Also, I must admit I wasn’t exactly bummed to have Rony Alwin of

Rony’s Photobooth

there to chronicle some* of the evening’s guests…

Here are a few ‘choice’ shots (filched from aforementioned site, please.&.thanks):

Actress Kat Turner of Inland Empire infamy

Wishes “All The B(r)east!”

Shutterbug/Model Sasha Sheldon

WERKS

IT

*OUT!*

Ever the stunner, here’s

Style Icon and Bijoux Black-Belt Tarina Tarantino Looking GORGEOUS

with Her Husband, Filmmaker Alfonso Campos

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Lenora Claire TAKES. IT. THERE. (Archived Blogature, Fer Shure!)

“I’m burnin’ up/Burnin’ up for…”

Or at least yesterday, that’s how it was.

Today I’m rockin’ my little window unit for all it’s worth.

Before I gab on about Lenora Claire‘s Birthday Party Last Friday, The Thirteenth

I’ve gotta lay out this sitch…cause seriously? Somethin’ around 24 hours ago?

It seemed as if Dante decided to expound upon the canonized nine, starting with a ‘Tenth Circle’ update just for me and “the 2.0 of it all.”

Yes, we all know about the temperature in L.A.;

Yes it’s a pain-in-the-posterior to hear people complain….

But it was, what? Somewhere in the triple digits yesterday?

and the WALL UNIT HEATER

IN MY LIVING ROOM

WAS ON,

belching out a steady stream of its own furious temperature

to accompany the afternoon’s ‘Greenhouse Effect’
already living up to its name quite well

↓

Note to self: Queer-Bait, HANG UP THOSE EFFING CURTAINS! kthanx.

↑

AND THE [enter expletive of your choice] SIMPLY WOULDN’T TURN OFF.

I felt I’d become an unwilling participant of Bikram Yoga—except I wasn’t chanting and doing back-bends; I was cussing and fanning my tomato-hued face with a copy of V magazine.

Fortunately, I managed to coax a maintenance man to ‘come to my rescue,’ same-day service. But unfortunately? That meant I couldn’t abandon the sweat box to seek solace at a friend’s place, in a coffee shop, or– oh, I don’t know…down the street at “Rough Trade: Sex, Leather and Spurs”?

Jeezish, it just dawned on me how histrionic this post is thus far.

And speaking of HISTRIONICS – -

How about a clip of the incomparable James St. James

to keep the ‘drama quotient’ as high as…

The Houdini Mansion in the Hollywood Hills?

Give it a little look-see, and you’ll find cameos sprinkled throughout of Dirk Mai (whom I’ve been known to refer to as ‘The Artist Formerly Known As Fingers Crossed’,’ among a strand of other nicknames), Wilhemina model Sara Mohr,
and that damn Audrey Kitching.

(I mean, seriously— Who the F does she think she is? SHEESH!)

While I heart Lenora–and no doubt, she’s got a separate fan club for those mams-o-plenty themselves–I was fortunate to be hangin’ at that eldritch abode earlier in the day for a separate matter altogether.
(Hints: TV cameras, a feature ALL ABOUT HER status as a ‘subcultural icon’, and a high-profile European Host. Hrmmm…)

Nonetheless, reality T.V.’s an unpredictable beast (and when it comes to convoluted fine print? Full disclosure that I’m guilty of pulling the ol ‘ TLsemicolonDR myself)– hence, I’m not quite sure what’s verboten and what I can or share with my OVERWHELMING READERSHIP (kidding, guys! RELAX ALREADY) on the interwebz at this juncture in time.

I can, however, share some snapshots sent my way. (Big ups to photographers who don’t just claim they’ll do that shit–they [gasp!] actually *do* it, instead.)

One kind gent–with a painstakingly decorated Polaroid classic in tow, by the way– captured a flashbulb’s worth of my soul in this, a work by Chet B:

Of course, now I wish I would have taken a photo of him with that killer cam (D.I.Y. or die!) — but that would have been the sensible, easy thing to do.

I’ve come to terms with the fact that oftentimes I create obstacles for myself rather than just heading straight to the mark.

So, MARK THIS, Em Effers:

myspace.com/thelbcandlastreetscene

Among your browser bookmarks, natch.

Next up in my rant? (This here is my space, lazy Millennials. You can TL semicolon DR my honky ass!)

Behold the lovely lady on the right, who is none other than Irene Urias of Hairroin Salon. This betch is brilliant, and a major part of the best GLAM SQUAD in town – -
ain’t no doubt about it.

Thanks muches to James Michael Gomez for zappin’ this one at me.

And here’s a genius detail: in case his name isn’t setting off any police sirens in your mam– I mean, memory?

He’s the last person featured in the J.S.J. video clip, sporting one of my all-time favorite fashion accessories.
Shit like that ain’t seasonal;
it’s STREET CRED, straight-up.

Now that summer has descended her scorching UV rays upon us, I truly hope he wears shorts every day and werks the Sweet F.A. outta it.

Proof/Pudding: (Whoever claims LiLo isn’t a trend-setter can squat on down and BITE ME!)

But until then – -

Cruise on by

jamesplayshimself.blogspot.com

(Choice of font hue a little nod to the district,
IfYouKnowWhatIMean.)

Otherwise, I’LL be SEEING YA AROUND –

x o x o x

Gossip Girl, with an extra X
(rating)

---

on me: Jacket by Jared Gold; miniature top hat by Winter Rosebudd, & a way severe face-beating—complete with lashes—by the incomparable Stacey Hummell with her ‘air-brush from hell…’

---

UPDATE!

GORGEOUS SLIDE SHOW OF LENORA CLAIRE
(Whom I’d Deem A ‘Fruit-Fly,’ Not ‘Fag-Hag’…
Though Honestly? I Think She’s Too Cool To Care)

(I mean…seriously: This Betch Is On Fiiiiiire!)

INCLUDING THIS CREW O’ NE’ER-DO-WELLs:

(Harumph!)

UP NOW ON LAWEEKLY.COM,
THANKS TO THE LOVELY LINA LECARO.

(Curious to see the other slew of guests? We actually bailed early due to other commitments–
so some of these were a surprise to me, as well!)

And people claim L.A. has no “underground scene.”

How about THIS SEGMENT OF THE POPULATION then, peeps?

Perhaps I’m mistaken, but umm…
I spy not one thread of ‘Abercrombie’ or ‘Juicy.’

et tú?

Color me outta here—

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Archived Blogature: Birthday Party, 2008