« Posts tagged designer Jared Gold

She Ain’t Ugly; She’s My Shyla.

Rifling through the ridiculous four-digit number of unanswered missives clogging my In-Box like a steady diet of deep-fried dill pickles, KFC and biscuits slathered in bacon fat does the arteries, it took but a cursory glance at the last sacrilegious e-card Ugly Shyla sent starring Scooter (R.I.P.), her three-legged cat, and I was transported back to April of 2003.  Convergence, an annual festival for those more shadowy in spirit, had booked me as a spoken word performer among that year’s roster.  Jared, ever the trooper in terms of road trips, had joined me on this excursion to Las Vegas: convention capitol of the world, tackiest city in the country, and home of the flamingo-themed Hilton hotel where for four days it was as if a black cloud descended upon its fuchsia presence.

That’s when I first “officially” met Shyla ♥—

Why the quotation marks?  A counter-culture periodical entitled  Swag had premiered around this time, and both Shyla and I graced its pages.  I’d read the feature on her and hence already knew about the ‘morbid fine art’ dolls she creates, her involvement with the performance art troupe (A-M-F), her wicked sense of personal style (fish-hooks through flesh used in lieu of garter belts), how her mom (known in the scene as ‘Goth Mom’) turned her on to the joys of John Waters, Satanism and transvestites.  All of that was fine and fascinating, but—more than anything—I was intrigued by the knowledge that this remarkable creature hailed from a tiny town called Jennings, Louisiana.

My own history composed of 18 years in Nowheresville, Arkansas—where I grew up not on a street, but a ‘Rural Route’ consisting of dirt and gravel—I can’t help but be drawn to other southern-fried freaks.  Not so much for the sake of sharing tear-stained stories of persecution, but rather because some of the most fascinating individuals I’ve ever met have sprouted from completely random spots among The Fly-Over States’ detritus.  While it sucked with sharp fangs during those days of puberty and pimples, I’m grateful to have developed as an individual without a clique to inform or guide me.  Said another way?  There was no “Check-List of Cool,” no tables in the caf polarized by those who fit within the parameters of Punk, Goth, Mod, Ska, etc.

When there’s no need to conform among the non-conformists?  That’s when the aberrant has an opportunity to define itself.

But I digress.  Ugly Shyla is aberrant, if anything—and sick, sick, siiiick in the best sense of the word.


::  A Sexy Shyla Pin-Up Print :: Available Through Her Web Shop ::

We clocked each other in the (ahem) “Bizarre Bazaar”: me in a custom Liz McGrath pinstripe suit adorned with gaping wounds and open sores oozing with red glitter; she in a pristine white baby doll dress that’d been ripped apart and re-stitched with thick black thread to match her full-eye black sclera contacts.

Sure, there’s the blue hair, the fishnets: this is familiar territory for most of us.

But once we made it past the “Don’t-I-Know-You-From…” social pleasantries?

That’s when I began to learn the good stuff.


:: artwork utilizing menstrual blood as a medium ::

Don’t just take my word for it, though.

Stop by her self-proclaimed “trailer park of the internet” ( Ugly Shyla Dot Com ); peruse her on-line gallery ( Ugly Art Dot Net ); give her Etsy marketplace a gander ( Ugly Art On Etsy ) and come to your own conclusions.

Rather than a welcome mat, you’ll be greeted by an image of your hostess bound in a warm, fuzzy straightjacket.  It might be hard to make out what she’s saying on account of the Hannibal Lecter-Lite safety guard that obscures her mouth…but if you look deep into those eyes eclipsed by contact lenses a ruptured shade of red, there’s an inherent sense that in Ugly Shyla’s world—complete with gauche magenta-on-pink animal-print wallpaper and the royal proclamation “Mental Illness With Style” scrawled in a gorgeous font rife with manic intensity—this is her version of an invitation to step inside.

Then, once you ease into the nascent stages of dementia via multi-sensory bombardment,

once you abandon all distinctions between what’s extreme and what’s extremely absurd,

it’s hard not to feel immediately welcomed…and at home.

➡ C L I C K — for —  ➡ »Read More

IN Utah This Week : June 2010 Coverage

Clint Catalyst,In Utah This Week

Special thanks to Amy Spencer and Alanja of the Dark Arts Festival!

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Zoetica Ebb Is A Hedonist. :: (…Isn’t Everyone?) ::

MAXIMIZE YOUR RETAIL BLISS, WITH THIS:

THE FIFTH PRIZE RIBBON among

the JARED GOLD/CLINT CATALYST CO-BRANDED MERCHANDISE…

hedonist! |ˈhidnəst| |ˈhidənəst| noun

a derivative of: hedonism |ˈhēdnˌizəm|

the pursuit of pleasure; sensual self-indulgence.
† the ethical theory that pleasure (in the sense of the satisfaction of desires) is the highest good †

Leave the scarlet letter for Miss Hester Prynne. THIS is a title to profess…

:: CLICK HERE TO GET YOURS NOW! ::

as modeled by
Artist/Writer/Photographer/Style Technician/Russian Cosmonomad and

Coilhouse magazine & blog Co-Founder,

Zoetica Ebb

Who—among her many other accolades—ranked #3 on

G4’s “Hottest Women Of The Web”(!)

More “Images Conducive Of Pleasure” Are Tucked
Beneath the Jump

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In LIFE Magazine, With Actress Annalynne McCord

Not an everyday experience for me, that’s for sure…

(So yeah, I’m kinda stoked about it — “You Got A Problem With That?”)

Don’t get me wrong:

I’m not delusional enough to think the hot little actress in the shot with me

Didn’t play an–ahem!–monumental role in terms of ‘placement.’

Though…

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“TL;DR” Overdrive…

Well, actually:

Yes, I wore the soles off my 20-e Doc’s many an eve
dancing to the 12″ mix of Ministry’s “Everyday is Halloween”
in back-alley nightclubs where I was years away from years from
being ‘of age’ to attend in the first place

(translation: the main thing that made it fun–
or at least that’s how it seems, looking back)

back in ancient history, also known as
my bereaved degenerate youth

I’ve been revisiting some of the more
dynamic moments from what could aptly be filed away in memory
as ‘The Clintagious Chronicles’ due to
the current book project on which I’ve been working

Degeneracy: A Love Letter.


// R.I.P., oh Long Lost Love…despite the toxic goulash of highlights,

lowlifes and embarrassingly awkward good times, how

exhilarating it seems your freedom was //

Whatever the case, here’s a recent update “from the set,”

featuring the inimitable beauty of actress/model Mageina Tovah

in the first of her two looks for the day:


 


Copious detail/commentary is provided on the clip’s YouTube page,

including info on the other peeps present who

deserve some serious ‘propers’ of their own.

(Irene Urias from Hairroin Salon, Genevieve Lamb from Dior, and

of course my co-conspirator, Amanda Brooks :

childhood f(r)iend/former ‘partner in crime’-turned-responsible mom)

Maendi and I lived by the edict that everyday presented

a new opportunity: the chance to become whomever/whatever we want

by dressing up.

To this day, I’m a tremendous advocate of the belief–

I mean, it was a mere three weeks ago, yet

I’m already missing Halloween.

With an outfit as genius as what Jared Gold concocted on my behalf,

how could I not?


  

and for the more detail-obsessed

FASHION DIE-HARDS OUT THERE,

here’s a considerably more comprehensive 5 minute clip in which

The Master of Delicate Decadence

shares everything from the costume’s “reveal”

to secret compartments ensconced within:

As for All Hallow’s Eve ‘proper,’ I gotta tell ya: generally speaking,

I was stoked to see so many Alice in Wonderland characters runnin’ around…

There were a slew of them both at the ‘Bitches Brew’ party, as well as a hearty smattering of Mad Hatters afterwards

when we hit the Brite Spot for some “fine” (enough) dining.

Seriously now: being a “Glad Hatter” myself–how could I not adore them? Despite accusations that I’m a ‘camera whore,’ (harumph!)

there aren’t many pictures of me from the evening. Nonetheless, I managed to snap one
of that dang adorable little Janine Jarman

& face-beater extraordinaire Noel Nichols within the first few minutes of our arrival; then cheers as other guests followed suit…

Q: Ever “spanked the monkey”? (Effing genius coincidence captured, that…)

As for me, I danced to the phenomenal tuneage spun by D.J.s Marta & Jen,

workin’ my ‘Demented Barber, Circa ’99…1899, That Is’ accessories for all they—

& the accompanying attitude in which I came “dressed”—were worth

(looks like SOMEONE needs a hug, hrmm? Just call me ‘Mr. Congeniality!’)

∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞

Hence the “Not My Best Look” oilslick on my gesicht

(Hand on a Merrir breast, though Mr. Gold seems unimpressed…)

Rockin’ TWO TYPES OF CLEAVE…

Thanks for the mammaries, Miss Sarah Merrie!

[Ampersand.Hearts.Semicolon]

Another shot from the evening:


Kaiden as “Epic Fail: Scene ‘LOL’,” Stevie Ryan as a pretty version of Pee Wee Herman,

and Adam Paranoia throwin’ Teen Wolf in a most serious way…

∞ ∞ ∞ ∞ ∞

And speaking of serious,

I was seriously surprised to learn that when my pal Brandon came to town for a visit

he comped me a frickin’–well, really expensive Madonna ticket.

9th row front, 3rd center of the ‘T-shaped’ stage

for one night

vs.

more than an entire month’s rent?

Can’t say I would’ve made that one happen myself…

* Thanks again, B! *

(I love how undeniably excited he is…)

& of course, via his iPhone we’ve got

“Pics or It Didn’t Happen”

O.K… so Home Skillet put on a phenomenal show.

I won’t make any references about how “I would hope so”; moreover,

I’ll refrain from utilizing any clichéd monikers in my commentary.

(Seriously journalists: by this point, any hack who refers to Mz. M as “The Material Girl”

should be force-fed the Oxford English Dictionary One. Page. At a time.)

but let me just tell you: when she threw down some DOUBLE DUTCH…

Well, let’s just say… despite another ’80s ricochet (nod to Keith Haring notwithstanding)

I was seventeen shades of impressed. It’s no secret I’ve been trying to assemble my own double-dutch squad

capable of weaving our way through the ropes while dressed in elaborate couture for quite some time… So until ‘The Swingers’ come to fruition,

I’ll cease this gargantuan post with the note

What I’m really dying to know is:

Has anyone else heard the rumor that Alexander McQueen will be designing a limited-run for Target?

They’ve scored some outstanding talent in the past but McQueen?

Truly: it’s a shame Isabella Blow isn’t here with us to share her thoughts on the topic (not to mention her opinions in general–but that’s a given)

& on a final rash note about fash: Did anybody rack up any great merch among the H & M/Comme Des Garcons collabo?

I wasn’t able to devote the entire morning of the 13th to waiting in line

in an attempt to score at least one piece of the instant collectibles.

(Different story altogether with the Viktor & Rolf launch from…hrmm… Two years ago, wasn’t it?)

However, thanks to my dear pal Pedro, I didn’t completely miss out on the goods that were gone in…what? Something like 17 minutes?

& though you might have thought it’d never happen, this is me, waaaay all kinds of outta here!

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Archived Blogature: Birthday Party, 2008

Clint Catalyst birthday party 2008