Ancient History: Performing 'Spoken Word' On Stage
During the heyday of a club called "Roderick's Chamber."
I've been fighting the heavy lids for at least an hour now, but wanted to add this photo 'up in the mix' as a companion piece to the pic preceding it.
Further proof that money doesn't buy 'streed cred' or categorize one as 'scene' (trust me -- I've met many a dork who had all the "right labels" and hair extensions... an Am Ex Centurion card doesn't make someone cool, sorry...)
This shot is particularly relevant to the one preceding it, as I wanted hair extensions to accompany the "Nellie Olsen Gone Awry" look I had goin' on. Nonetheless, I was broke beyond comprehension -- plus I wanted a hue that stood out from the others.
Instead of shucking out the $500 I didn't have, I took a more creative approach:
A pack of $4.99 synthetic locks scored from a "Lovely Ladies of Color" beauty shop.
Since the longer my hair grows, the more it's accompanied by natural ringlets (just about the only thing "natural" in my aesthetics, it seems!),
my secret was this:
the same can of silver spray paint,
a black barrette to clip the fake hair in under my unholy tresses,
and a series of outlandish stories spun to those in the 'priviliged set' who wanted to know where I'd gotten my hair done.
Usually, my retort was, "Oh, I have it imported, of course!"
(Yeah, "imported" from the Divisadero district to the Upper Haight, where I lived!)
It wasn't until well over a year later-- once I'd had images of me published with my 'signature curls'-- that I laughed and told the truth. Anyone who wanted to follow my formula then? Total non-issue. I was already way all kinds of over it...
I've been fighting the heavy lids for at least an hour now, but wanted to add this photo 'up in the mix' as a companion piece to the pic preceding it.
Further proof that money doesn't buy 'streed cred' or categorize one as 'scene' (trust me -- I've met many a dork who had all the "right labels" and hair extensions... an Am Ex Centurion card doesn't make someone cool, sorry...)
This shot is particularly relevant to the one preceding it, as I wanted hair extensions to accompany the "Nellie Olsen Gone Awry" look I had goin' on. Nonetheless, I was broke beyond comprehension -- plus I wanted a hue that stood out from the others.
Instead of shucking out the $500 I didn't have, I took a more creative approach:
A pack of $4.99 synthetic locks scored from a "Lovely Ladies of Color" beauty shop.
Since the longer my hair grows, the more it's accompanied by natural ringlets (just about the only thing "natural" in my aesthetics, it seems!),
my secret was this:
the same can of silver spray paint,
a black barrette to clip the fake hair in under my unholy tresses,
and a series of outlandish stories spun to those in the 'priviliged set' who wanted to know where I'd gotten my hair done.
Usually, my retort was, "Oh, I have it imported, of course!"
(Yeah, "imported" from the Divisadero district to the Upper Haight, where I lived!)
It wasn't until well over a year later-- once I'd had images of me published with my 'signature curls'-- that I laughed and told the truth. Anyone who wanted to follow my formula then? Total non-issue. I was already way all kinds of over it...
ACTUALLY, that was just a general statement. Promise. (You know the Am Ex 'Black Card' is the most--ahem--"prestigious," right?)
Aggggggh! I wanna respond to everyone (and add those frickin' HTML line breaks into my latest blog), but I'm already running late... =[