Friday, October 31, 2003

Holler, Wein

I'm trying not to get my panties in a bunch about today... first, by not wearing any panties (I'm still in my bathrobe), second by trying to pretend that this is all going to be terribly easy and terribly fun. But I'm not convinced... there are too many details, too many places where things can go terribly terribly wrong, and I've already invested far too much in this evening to be able to handle details and things going wrong.

And it's not just an emotional investment, either. So far, this little HallowQueen exercise has cost me a really unconscionable sum of money:

Black fox muff.... $ 20

Black skunk stole that was supposed to be fox.... $115

Black fox boa that I ordered three weeks ago to wear instead of the skunk stole and hasn't shown up yet.... $ 75

Black-and-white fox stole that I may or may not use.... $ 45

Black jersey gown from Saks Off Fifth for entrance gown.... $ 55

Three yards of black cutout velvet with tassels and trims for performance gown.... $ 85

Black damask Dream Corset from Frederick's.... $ 70

Intensely fabulous black satin lace-up boots from same.... $ 80

Black square-toe boots from Payless that are too modern-looking but which I will probably never return.... $ 35

Various pieces of black jet jewelry.... $ 50

Lipstick, nail polish, and eyeshadow in matching bruise color.... $ 55

Black China-doll wig.... $ 30

Several bridge-crossings and gas for rehearsals.... $ 25

Getting my car towed while I was at rehearsal....$250

Incidentals that I have to buy today, estimated.... $ 75


And all that for a pageant without cash or prizes. I'm even lending the tiara. Sometimes I worry about myself.

On the other hand, I am going to be fabulous... so long as the gown that I "sewed" together last night doesn't fall apart (it's mostly held together with safety pins that will hide under the corset, which I'm wearing as a bodice), and so long as my car doesn't get towed again, so long as I have plenty of time to do all the things I need to do today, so long as I don't fall off the stage or fracture a limb or break out in hives.

But anyway, darlings, if you have a spare moment around six-ish to nine-ish and happen to find yourself at a loose end in the Castro, stop by and contribute your 25 ducats to the worthy cause of finishing a documentary about Carol Queen and her very nice brother, John (both of whom I met Wednesday, while my car was being towed... no, I'm not bitter... and they are both lovely people), as well as to see me in one of the most expensive performances of my career (I spent twice as much when I ran for Miss Gay Marin 2002). There will be food and bevo, fun and games, and a really fabulous drag pageant, all for one low (and most likely tax-deductible) price.

Wish me luck!

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