Thursday, February 5, 2004

In the past, I've been quite proud to say that I don't really watch TV. Why sit around watching other people's adventures when you can have your own? Yet I suppose now that I have a multi-site web presence, I have become a mediated experience for others. The difference is that I'm also real, meaning I can be a real part of one's life rather than just an illusive image and words. It's that web of connection that I care about, the people who surround me and make up my community. I have never been one to live vicariously through others, such as reading gossip about people I don't know.

I am from the bowels of Los Angeles -- land of the mediated experience. And I am a club kid at heart. One thing that irked me when trying to nightclub it there was this reticence to be Fabulous with a capital F. Perhaps we're helped along here by that wonderful Pride vibe. Whatever the reason, I enjoy going out and looking funky-sexy-outrageous without that questioning look of "And who do you think you are?" that is too often evident in Tinseltown. As if everyone just lives and breathes to emulate the lives of celebrities, and only they have a right to dress in truly unique or attention-getting attire. The desire to look and feel divine needs no ulterior motive, and does not necessarily imply competitiveness i.e. "I'm looking great to show my superiority and make you feel bad about yourself." Sometimes I get a whiff of that attitude here in the City, but I don't think this has to be the case.

Entertainers act out wild and stylish lives. Me and my comrades, we live it for ourselves, not for the cameras. I find it amusing when someone who's spent most of their life watching the screen sees some similarity in my club style and that of a celebrity, therefore concluding that I must be copying that famous person. I don't turn on the television to get my fashion tips. Looks evolve from the street, the clubs, dance culture and all these other cool subcultures, then are co-opted by the stars, not the other way around. Ah yes, the emperor wears no clothes . . .