“I have always tried to sublimate the body and to make people dream.”
Thierry Mugler: Galaxy Glamour, the most recent compendium on one of the 20th Century’s most influential designers, is out now.
While the couture division of Mugler’s House closed in 2003, his aesthetic explored a dramatic narrative populated by supermodels and superstars, or — in the words of the designer himself — “Personalities who know and accept who they are and fashion themselves accordingly.”
As a tribute to the so-called createur de shoc [ "creator of shock" ], I invite you to feast upon a series of clips demonstrative of a runway show in the truest sense of the word: a presentation at its most ostentatious, its most outrageous, its most theatrical.
“Fashion is not enough,” Mugler once said. “I am trying to convey sensations and feelings . . . I am always telling stories . . . I invent my characters and put them on stage. For me, clothes are a language.”
Les défilés Prêt-à-porter 90
A language, albeit, that is highly-cultivated: structured beyond the ‘natural,’ the free-flowing or colloquial, Mugler’s vocabulary is one steeped in fetishistic visuals and exaggerated ideals.
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? Per chance might it be one adorable little Kit Kat Lee?
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 …♥
[ Oh, and pssst! A little "JSYK," just in case 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.
Pictured above: Cruz maintains a subdued demeanor 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; i.e., I’m afraid I don’t know whom to credit for the creation pictured above. That being said, please allow me to segueway back to other deep and meaningful content, such as
other photo booth antics I enjoyed . . . ditto, Ela Darling and The Dirkulous Maximus.
Caught here on the other side of the cameraPreviously captured on the other side of the lens — though retracted, since keeping her identity secret only intensifies the appeal — is was 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 reputation as The Go-To Girl for Nightlife.
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, though you might as well go ahead and pre-order such an indispensable guide. 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—
First, I’m stoked to have social media superhero Miss Destructo
as the next ‘Consumer As Spokesmodel’ (despite how admittedly goober the title may be…) :: Keep sending in those glamour shots of you rockin’ product, kids… Whether it’s a book bag or a prize ribbon, I’d love to plaster your face up here for all the w.w.w. to see!
And next, a familiar face on this blog, as of late—
Zoetica Ebb, filling the role of “Check-Me-Out-Bitches; I’m In An Ad!”
Ahhh, YES:
I really love this “bounce-out.” (Is that what they’re called?) Whatever the nomenclature,
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’ve been — 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 of which I speak
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?
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". . . ]
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
O.K., before I have to dial whine-one-one for the waaaahmbulance, please allow me to throw down a disclaimer in hopes that I’ll spare even a single set of phalanges out there clacking terse comments about how I “really need to post this type of information while issues are still on the newsstands…” [ad nauseum, ad nauseum; cue vomitorium]
‘Cause hey—guess what?
I really need to post this shit in a more expeditious manner, man.
Just so happens that–ahem–I might very well have a few issues of my own to deal with. (One of which is the preposition by which the previous sentence just ended, dangling like an unworn pair of silver Les Chiffoniers’ leggings aching for the latest Girl of the Moment to slide into them before dashing out to paint the town bloodshot. It’s as inherent a pairing as Edie Segwick hopped-up on a fistful of whites and having her coiff spray painted Just For The F Of It while donning Balenciaga originials. What other lack of logic explains the perfect sense it makes to purchase what’s essentially a thick pair of pantyhose with a thousand dollar price tag? Not really…but REALLY, babes.)
But oh, that’s but a footnote of damage from a former version of myself in which I worked as a technical writer. A footnote among essays within archives buried deep inside some virtual boneyard we’ll call The Chronicles of the Clintasaurus and opt to visit some other time just dust our hands of it.
.kthanxbai.
At least all this self-aggrandizing material is contained within a single post. Couldn’t give two turds about what ‘they’ might have said about me?
Scroll on; scroll on!
It’s as easy as the pro-Ana mindset by which to skip dessert:
“Does Not Exist.”
What does exist, nonetheless, on the other acrylic claw:
Recent media in which I appear–sometimes but a smidgen; luckier instances full effing-on.
For instance, the following pic and mention in H Magazine is a case of what might be deemed “peripheral press.” Or, to utilize the vernacular of savvy SoCal realtors in sensible shoes: an “adjacent feature.”
Not gonna lie (or “ngl,” for those who speak Millennial): this is one of the first photographs of Mister Glenn Kaino that shows how handsome he is. Not exactly a stranger to the slick and glossy pages of newsstand racks, there’ve been many a magazine where I thought the printed results of the flashbulb-pop just didn’t do him justice. Props to the photographer for capturing why it is his lovely wife CoryLynn went “Whoa”—y’know?
And insofar as my image—the look I ‘turned out’* for bits and pieces of my soul to be sacrificed via Glenn’s manipulation of the bulky/beautiful Polaroid Big Shot favored by Warhol himself?
*’turned out’ by no means appropriating cred as if this was my own creation! Au contraire, it was the make-up of Stacey Humell; the cut/color/extensions of scissormeister Irene Urias of Hairroin, Hollywood’s hottest salon (www.hairroinsalon.com), and–excluding the Westwood brooch–another cerebellum-melding, history-making, custom couture creation by the genius Jared Gold
(moving right along…)
Big deal if I’m “giving away too many of my secrets” by sharing this delicious little inside joke—it friggin’ slaughters me how many people took the ‘pomp and pout’ of the picture at face value. I mean, if I’m going to rock an outfit, hair and make-up that ostentatious… how could I not get “in character”?
What ELSE would I do? Smile like a politician and “compassionately” hold a stranger’s baby?
And in the meantime, reword “Let Them Eat Cake” into something more…inclusive…in tone?
yeahRIIIGHT.
It’s like this: one wink or nudge of the elbow during the Polaroid shoot, or Nhat Nguyen’s studio takes thereafter in which I “amped the prance” so high; by foppish standards it was even off-the-charts, or even a single word cluing in ‘The Children’ a la Interwebz? (No worries now: it’s been months… and while it’s a hasty generalization, yes: gnats have better attention spans than they do, for the most part.)
Let’s face the music, sweetcheeks:
Simply wouldn’ta worked.
Art versus Artifice // Appearance versus Reality // Truth Revealed Through a Guise // Everything Is “Real”—Though What Of It Is Lies?
So many motifs swirling around in my head like a majorette’s glitter-fringed baton at half-time…
Yet all of them beg the question, it seems:
Exactly who or what is this ‘Clint Catalyst’ supposed to be, anyway?
And why would it even matter if he (and I) weren’t among the ‘Lucky Ones’ in Flaunt magazine, issue 96?
I’ll tell ya what it was like when I spot-checked the (who cares if it’s a mere thumb-nail sized) pic, standing there, thumbing through the pricey pages in the Echo Park 7-11:
the second I saw my little powder blue top hat (by L.A.’s premier Gothic Cholita, Creepsuela Switchletto: “big ups” to my shiv-wieldin’ glamour sis), I felt a surge of validation sweep over me like the frost-bitten clouds fleeing a freezer behind me as some nameless faceless customer opened then sealed shut the door.
No doubt this earth-shattering, molar-splitting, life-changing moment is fraught with layers of meaning… but c’mon, isn’t everything? (Unless, of course, it’s deconstructed to the bloodless core of nothingness—but that’s so Small-Town-Liberal-Arts-School-Curriculum-For-30K+-A-Year-Of-Make-Believe, I’d rather just ‘keep it real’ and say
Mostest Massive thanks to Photographer Melissa Manning and Flaunt magazine!
Shit you nunca, y’all: that was wickedcool of you, and was “Really Saying Something…”
[Fun.Boy.Three.From.This.One.Here.]
Verbose? Hell yes. I conquer “tl;dr” pussywillows one paragraph at a time—deal with it, or head off for culturally-stimulating activities like an episode of “Cops” or a Budweiser-fueled swirly-go-’round-and-then-down on the Sunset Strip’s Mechanical Bull.
“I.D.G.I,” arseholians. (Said, of course, with the deepest affection…)
Besides: this is kind of like, my diary…yo?
All the same, there’s somethin’ I gotta tell you, though: the printwork I’m most stoked about as of late is a two-page editorial in the latest Lipstick Prophets catalog/magazine.
Here’s one of the images from the spread…
Copies are available through LipstickProphets.com for a scant 2 1/2 bones — and that’s with free shipping and handling, dearlings.
With the American economy in the shitter as it is, at least somebody’s followed my lead regarding “Other Humanitarian Acts That Require Little or No Effort.”
The Clint’s Notes version?
Have passport; will travel. ‘Handling’ is subjective terminology best discussed in lush, exotic locales—and, as with everything else in life, varies from individual to individual (all the while assured that we’re treated equally: It is, after all, the American Way!).
Sleep-deprived, eyes feel like my corneas have been fried by my monitor,
just spent something like a nine-hour span working on what
less than 15 minutes after my marathon of fingerprints
I’m already thinking was a lame concept to develop.
But enough with the waaaahmbulantastic “tl;dr”—
lemme get this outta the way instead:
MASSIVE CONGRATS to that dang adorable Liz McGrath ♥—
who’s not only one of my favorite visual artists, but also the lead singer of Miss Derringer.
Because I adore the poopsmear outta her, I can’t help but give a big HOLLAH over their front page feature
in Spinner this week. I’m not an aol person, but allegedly this is the most downloaded site for music on-line…
Whatever the case, “Black Tears” is bitchen—& seeing a friend succeed makes me happy, indeed.
Nightcrawlers, Style Fiends, Socialites & Scene Queens:
File this one under MUST, as it’s an unexpected diversion from all those clubs you’re Sooo Over, or an early-evening option that’s workable if you have to break your slumber early Sunday morn.
For you die-hards, however? Get In Outfit, &
consider this your Starting Point for making the proverbial ‘Rounds’:
Cocktails & Cute Art—With An Even Cuter Crowd!
Just in case you missed the memo: Hairroin is the white-hot epicenter of WIN
The most innovative crew of Scissormeisters in town,
Who are ON the IT before it’s even begun…
Owner Janine Jarman is one of five contestants in this year’s Oh Shit. What’s it called? NAHA? Is that right?
National Competition / Vegas This Year / Category: Avant Garde
Out of hundreds of applicants, it’s now down to the Final Five.
I’m telling you, & I’m telling you now:
HOME SKILLET HAD SOME ISSUES THAT SERIOUSLY NEEDED
TO GET THE F-BOMB WORKED ON OUT.
— o u t —
With my O.G. Bitches, D.J. Adrian
& The Mysterious D at the decks,
slingin’ siiiick-ass mixes of tracks
that normally wouldn’t rub shoulders with each other…
let alone get layered-up & thrown down
Keep it Fully D.L. re: my headshrinker, but I think
burning down the floor did more good than an obscenely-priced office visit.
Maybe two of them, even.
[ & above ]
Hey—CHECK IT:
Blogster Aman of Aman-About-Town
Really Is…& I ain’t mad about it!
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.
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.’
“Pained And Painted” — New Video Post
Spoken Word by Clint Catalyst,
Visual Manipulations/Aural Fixations by Nicholas Wolfkind
featuring portrayals by
Audrey Kitching
Lorraine Caley
Kaiden Blake
Kat Lee
Hilary Goldberg
& CCx
Hair Artistry by the Almighty Irene Urias of HairroinSalon.com
Shiny Latex Yumminess by Syren.com ♥ (COVET…LOVE.IT) ♥
(accompanying text available on The ‘Tubes, if interested—
Clint Catalyst’s Channel; Click “More Info”)
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