So last night I checked out Trannyshack at the Stud. Perhaps the only great thing going on in gay nightlife in SF. It's a showcase of nasty gritty drag queens who are more likely to lip-synch to Siouxsie Sioux than Mariah; and who will glady squirt the audience with fake menstural blood in the name of performance art. In other words: it can be pure genius.
I'm not really a fan of most drag queens because quite honestly most of them are lame and b-o-r-i-n-g as fuck. (Yes, I know Stonewall was started by drag queens, but sweetie, I'll heckle anyone who doesn't have the sense not to wear a muu muu and who thinks judy garland is "fierce.") I mean, honestly how many times can you see a fat guy in a dress mouth the words to a cher song? I'd rather eat a tuna-melt and watch Desperate Housewives.
But thankfully there are several girls out there who can really carry. The outfit is DONE, the hair and make-up DONE, and the peformance flawless and unique. One of those girls is Sherry Vine.
A fellow New Yorker, Sherry came out to visit Trannyshack to perform her live cabaret. I met Sherry years ago for an article I did about her residency in Berlin. She's recently moved back to New York, and the gays are all in a tizzy about her return because she's that cunty. Yes, that's a good thing. She's cunty, hot, and wears stilletos with leather dresses. Think Debbie Harry as a glam jewish american princess.
It seemed that because of Sherry, every New Yorker around- past and present- made the effort to go to Trannyshack because I felt like I was at the Cock with all the familar faces around.
It's a small world, and an even smaller one with the gays, because a stylist I had worked with on a men's swimwear photo shoot approached me and said hi.
Now every faggot with a subscription to Vogue and Cargo calls himself a stylist in New York. And this mofo has NO style whatsofckingever. I swear I think he was wearing Sketchers and a pooka shell necklace.
So in the spirit of Sherry and the clueless Stylist, I have decided to give my Stanford peers some fashion advice. Today I'll do the ladies because A) I'm a total mysoginist and B) It pisses me off when chicks don't make an effort because fashion is created for them. How much would I love to be able to wear Manolos and mini-skirts?! As much as I would love to have multiple orgasms!
Stanford girls mystify me. They dress as if they're about to move heavy furniture, paint some walls, or go camping It's as if they've given up on glamour all together, and that my children, is a very sad sad thing.
WHAT NOT TO WEAR:
-Pajamas: Don't wear PJ's outside of the dorm. It's not cute, ladies, to show up at class in your paul frank pj's. i think you look like a lazy cow. and you're covering up your young supple skin, and that shit aint going to be around forever, especially if you become an investment banker or all-around corporate whore. Look at Carly Fiornia, former CEO of HP. She's a man! And an ugly one at that. But I bet you my Seven jeans she once had youthful glowing skin. And no anti-wrinkle cream is ever going to bring that back.
-Sweats or Gym Pants: Same reasons as above. And you shouldn't be working out in pants anyway. Wear short gym shorts that have Stanford written on the butt. Or buy some form-fitting gym clothes from Y3.
-Sneakers more than 3 days a week: The high-heel is the best shoe ever fucking made. I've tried wearing them and it just doesn't work for the current butch look I'm working. So fucking strap on some heels, cute sandals, or knee-high boots.
-Flip-Flops: Flips are so ubiquitous at Stanford that it will forever be impossible to ween the student body off of them. I love flip-flops, but wearing them every day is pure laziness. We aren't at the beach nor are we on vacation, so try not to wear flip-flops to meals. It's tacky.
If you really need comfortable shoes, invest your money in loafers. Prada and YSL have both released gorgeous loafers which means there are cheap imitations out there. Or even get some moccassins or fucking UGGs. I know they're so LA and Lindsay Lohan, but its a hell of a lot better than looking like Britney Spears who seems to only wear flip-flops, and anything she does you are to avoid like genital herpes.
-Ribbed Sweaters: Burn them. Wear cashmere.
-Really Long Hair: It's tacky, and it makes you look like trailer trash.
-Really Short Hair: You don't look like Winona during her pixie-ish Reality Bites era, you just look like a dyke.
-Tie-Dyed Shirts and other Hippy-ish Clothes: Are we planning on going to a grateful dead concert? Jerry's dead. Phish have broken up. Get over it.
-Birkenstocks and Tevas: PUKE.
And never wear fleeces, northface gear, denim shorts, wedges, hiking boots, ugly hats reminiscent of TV's Blossom, t-shirts you bought at the GAP when you were 12, mules, or PALE skin. Go to a fucking tanning salon.
WHAT TO WEAR:
Stilletos, Make-Up because unless your Halle or Angelina you need it, Mini-Skirts, Chanel Allure, Big Jackie-O sunglasses, silk scarves, hoop earrings, big bags i.e. a birkins, and chunky jewelry.
Pick a style icon for inspiration. Think Mary-Kate or Chloe Sevigny. They're both young women with great style- even if they're both coked-out hookers. That gives someone points in my book, but I know how you Stanford girls are sychophantic ambitious fembots. I blame feminism, but you've got to stop being afraid of being sexy, and stop attacking the few girls who actually dare to look hot on campus.
The few girls I'm friends with from my original stint at Stanford are all hot, and while they were undergrads, you ladies would scornfully glare and call them sluts behind their backs. Well guess what? They're still hot, all have hot boyfriends, and have great careers. And as for the clueless girls, they're now whining about how men are intimidated by successful smart women. RIGHT?!
And in case you already forgot, don't ever look to Britney Spears for tips. She's southern trash who visits gas-station bathrooms barefoot while wearing denim shorts and cotton tank-tops. She's let herself get fat which in itself isn't a crime, but when you're a celebrity who has personal trainers, stylists, and free designer duds at your disposal, and the best look you can come up with is recovering-oxycontin-addict who eats her feelings, then you are a waste of US Weekly photo space.
I know this is a lot to take in, but take heart, girls. It's a big world out there and you have plenty of time to figure it out.
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