Archive for November, 2010

VANITY FUR:

Thursday, November 25th, 2010

In a fashion spread that is so common place these days, but not so much in Marta’s time, she took the opportunity to be dressed and stylised as some of her favorite icons. As is now expected of Marta, it was more ‘Razors’ than ‘Cutting’ edge. Pain, self mutilation and careless regard for society’s mores is all de rigour when Marta steps before the camera, so moisten a finger, and prepare to flip through the pages of Marta’s latest documented fashion gift to us ..


ABOVE PIC: Marta tips the hat, and quite possibley the scales, in this tribute to Courtney Love, Marta spared no comfort zone in her dedication to nailing her inspirations, right down to infusing her Courtney-esque wig with head lice, and hacking out a piece of her septum.


ABOVE PIC: Esther Williams never needed goggles, but that isn’t going to stop Marta interpreting what she believes Esther should have been decked out in. In true Marta fashion she insisted that her goggles carry her prescription, so in a fashionabley aqueous act she could wear these goggles with evening wear, and to the theatre.


ABOVE THREE PICS: Annette Funicello come on down!, it’s ‘Beach blanket bingo’ with Marta as she takes to the waves, and risks getting sand in her crack, and a pelt matted by the drying effects of salt water, all in the name of fashion. Speaking of, Marta can’t help herself, she has to fuck with our minds. In the first of the above three photo’s, you can see in tribute to the material girl Madge, Marta got a pair of pliars, and snapped off one of her top mollars, unlike Madge, who merely used black gum make up, Marta self medicated, and snapped the fucker off in front of the bathroom mirror, why? .. for Fah-Fah-Fashion.


ABOVE PIC: Cool as ice, or warm as an ice pipe?, Catherine Deneuve gets the nod here, the all too obvious beret, the beige Jackie O mid seventies jacket, and Marta’s own diamond earings cut from the nastiest mountain in South Africa. What can i say, cool, icey, aloof, chilly .. textbook French.


ABOVE PIC: The first of two biker girl tributes by Marta, and it’s no one you would think. Here Marta takes on the role of the sexually unsatisfied Olive Butler from the UK tv series ‘On the buses’, played by Anna Karen. Poor Olive was always relegated to the side car of her husbands motorbike, which Marta feels was a euphemism for women everywhere, and there circumstance at the time. Marta recognises, and pays tribute to the subtle work done in breaking down these barriers by making sure no bugs ever stuck in her teeth, and it was okay to wear diamonds, even tho relegated to a submissive roll in a motorbike side car, and most importantly, to suck on the exhaust fumes, and get off your nut as you were forced to be merely a passenger (even tho zoning off into the alpha).


ABOVE PIC: Ethnic chic as Marta travels to the Middle East and plays a role within a role, here Marta is styled after Michelle Phillips in ‘Valentino’, who was herself playing Natacha Rambova in the movie, shades of the famous Dali painting, of a painting, of a painting, of a painting etc. A subtle nod also goes out to Linda McCartney who refused to shave her legs, and was pilloried from pillar to post because of this act of non conformity, Marta (who personifies the the words ‘In your face’) does not fuck around, and for weeks before the photo shoot, mainlined testosterone directly into her temple, to ramp up the pelt on her upper chest as a casual ‘Fuck you!’, and as a nod of solidarity to her more hirsute sisters.


ABOVE PIC: The second in the ‘Biker girl’ series, here Marta don’s a ‘Pleather’ jacket, jumps out of the side car, takes the handlebars, and becomes Shelly Winters in ‘Cleopatra Jones’. Note the totally Sixties face viser, the collagen stung lips, and the Easy Rider profile, no happy accidents here.


ABOVE THREE PICS: Marta does Martha (‘Stewart’ that is). Is it any wonder that Marta chose to pay tribute to a woman who’s life has encopassed crocheting colostomy bag covers, macrame wall hangings (used primarilly for auto erotic asphyixiation), and two years hard labour in an all womens prison?, didn’t think so. Anyone who thinks that the cream canister in the first pic is going to be used for the desert is vastly mistaken, Marta knows that nothing rocks your world like having a hit of nitrous from a cream canister, immediately after hammering a bucket bong.

In the second photo Marta contemplates using the flacid chicken as a hat, of course this predates Lady Ga Ga’s meat dress by a good thirty years, but the dripping bacteria from the gibblets swayed Marta away from this act of poultry fashion terrorism, even Marta draws the line at stomach cramps, and projectile gastric in the name of fashion.

Can we please make mention of the stately outfit?, from the drop flowered diamond earrings, the almost, but not quite, hounds tooth dress, the finely cut blouse with what i can only assume are Saville Row tailored sleeves and buttons, and the double, and wide banded watch. All for the kitchen, and all for glamour.


ABOVE PIC: ‘Jocelyn’ nothing more to be said.


ABOVE PIC: Lauren Bacall all the way, Marta makes a flowing entrance, it’s all about the movement and the moment. The scolloped front flows down, but pulls up short of the pubic region, it’s Marta saying ‘You can have a bit, but not everything’. For her cuffs Marta has hacked the cuff’s off an old pair of bell bottom slacks and grafted them on here for winter covereage, i’ve seen this dress worn in spring without the extended arm length, making this dress a little more interactive. The flower burst diamond (of course) earings are on display for all to ogle, and in true Marta fashion, her stockings, or leggings, are actually made from the stretched foam coverings used to protect stone fruits in supermarkets. Jeannie Little may have made a career out of making dresses from garbage bags, but no one recycles waste into fashion like Marta.


ABOVE PIC: With a look of stoicism, unaffected detachement and a serene calm, Marta holds aloft no mere accsesory, but a symbol of repression everywhere in the GLBTI community, the humble turkey baster. Years before ribbons, fundraisers and awareness campaigns, Marta would appear at openings, red carpet roll outs and celebrity events clutching the baster, and much like how Paris Hilton walks around with her rat dog living in her purse (what dog wouldn’t want to live in a confined space packed with drugs) Marta would use this not so much as an accesory, but as more of a statement, to get people talking, to open up a dialog and break down the walls of misunderstanding. In this one photo Marta pays tribute to not only every downtrodden GLBTI actor and actress, but to every GLBTI person who has been shitlisted, shafted, derailed and denied the fundemental, and basic human rights that so many others enjoy. Cast aside your ribbons, and hold aloft the turkey baster as the international symbol of working around, and defeating archaic beliefs and systems, put in place to stop us progressing and procreating. Thank you for this gift Marta, thank you for giving us a visual to identify with, VIVA LA BASTER, VIVA LA MARTA!!.

This collection is dedicated to Shelly, a fine person who knows her Simian style.

LEE:

Thursday, November 25th, 2010

SICKNIKS:

Thursday, November 25th, 2010

WHO SLEW AUNTIE ROO:

Thursday, November 25th, 2010

An early camp horror movie i adored as a kid, i’m sure no one knew i was gay :-)

JUST BECAUSE:

Thursday, November 25th, 2010

SKINNED REINDEER:

Thursday, November 25th, 2010

SWINGERS:

Thursday, November 25th, 2010

THE ALL MEAT PANCAKE:

Thursday, November 25th, 2010

A ROSE IS A ROSE IS A ROSE:

Thursday, November 25th, 2010

TELLY SKELETON MONSTERS:

Thursday, November 25th, 2010

Tammys turntable, (Changes, Start the beat).

Thursday, November 25th, 2010

Continuing my trawl throught the recessed bowels of the “Tingle Audio Archives”, i came across a tape with a little more personal tie to me than just some obscure 70’s ‘B’ side. May i present to you the lilting sounds of my school band featuring me on drums (and Valium).

Our school was so povo our music class didn’t even have real instruments, so me being the drummer i managed to cobble together a kit made up of mostly toy drums, and most ingenious of all, an upturned coffee table upon whose legs i used as cymbal stands, and one small cymbal taped to a table to use as a high hat.

We entered the district schools competition to play at the town hall, the organisers came to our class, and seeing our shits nest equipment instantly put us in the line up (No doubt to ad an element of the Avant Guarde), i vividly remember them commenting on my home made kit.

We played two songs, one an original titled ‘Changes’ written by our class mate Muz, the other heard here was called ‘Start the beat’. I’d never been on stage before, and i’d never played a real drum kit either, so there was only one thing to do to soothe the jitters .. perloin some Valium, which in those days was in bountiful supply in most family bathroom cabinets, i gobbled up a couple of pink pills and was set for a night in Showbiz (Not to be my last).

I had the forethought to take along a camera and a small cassette recorder. By the time we arrived at the venue the pills had kicked in, or as we later professionally learnt ‘Came on’. The band comprised of me on drums, Muz on ‘Organ’, Vincent on piano, Ray on guitar, and Sandra and Leena on percussion.

My most precious memory of the evening was just before the curtain went up, a roadie came out and mic’d up Ray’s acoustic guitar, the look of panic on his face was gold, in the whole time we spend rehearsing for this, Ray had managed to learn one chord, ‘C’, now what we were playing was pretty simple, but playing a ‘C’ chord for the whole song was not gonna cut it, just before we started playing i reached over and spun the mic around so it was actually facing away from the guitar (he never did thank me for saving his ass from a public humiliation).

And so we played, i think we done pretty well considering the circumstances. I love listening to Vin on the piano here, you can hear his natural ability shine through

My big moment comes at the end when earlier in the afternoon one of the other drummers from another school said to me ‘You should do a solo at the end’, and so with no idea how to play a solo, or really how to play a proper kit, i pulled something out of the bag, and i think you can actually hear the effect of the Valium on me as i play a long, slow rolling fill.

I was chewing gum through the performance, but with the effects of the Valium on my young, impressionable body taking hold, apparently my jaw was chewing at about one mastication a minute, which i believe is quite slow, almost zen like in the gum chewing stakes.

The recording is pretty rough, Mrs Rogers put the recorder on the floor, behind her legs and Dorrie Evans-esque billowing, flowing, brynylon Osti frock, so the sound is a little muffled.

My class was standing at our next scool assembly (Atten-SHUN!!, at ease!) where all the anouncements were made, as per usual we stood through a constant stream of praise and arm waving for every two bit sporting achievement that week, and our class representing the school never got so much as a mention, not a peep, whisper, stiffled aside .. not even a cursery alluding to. To this day i still carry a venemous dispisement of all things sport and sporty*, all because of this slight.

It’s not quite The Beatles ‘Starclub Tapes’ but if you click HERE you’ll get to hear our youthful enthusiasm.

*Sweating AFL players excepted.

JUST BECAUSE:

Wednesday, November 24th, 2010

BRAIN FREEZE:

Wednesday, November 24th, 2010

I’M NOT SURE HOW MUCH OF THAT FUR BELONGS TO THE CAT:

Wednesday, November 24th, 2010

PILL PARTY:

Wednesday, November 24th, 2010

JUST BECAUSE:

Wednesday, November 24th, 2010

TONIGHTS SMOKO ENTERTAINMENT:

Wednesday, November 24th, 2010

I was just about to open up Photoshop to resize this picture which i assumed was distorted, then i realised it was an optical illusion caused by the sharp gradient of the shirt collars, and the hair shape of the guy second from the left. Bonus points go to the guy on the far left, who must have had his high school year book photo captioned ‘Most likely to be mistaken for a serial killer .. albeit one who seems to be insanely hung’.

FRIDGE DRAPING SPACE TRAMPS:

Wednesday, November 24th, 2010

HARRY’S CAFE DE WHEELS:

Wednesday, November 24th, 2010

Piss elegance comes to Tempe, with great joy i noticed that ‘Harry’s cafe de wheels’ has opened an outlet in this formerly dowdy suburb, it’s also located on the road i use to get home. Harry’s specialises in ‘Pies’, and his vege pie with mashed pea’s and gravey float is just beyond delish, i’m feverishly masticating at the mere thought of it. The cool thing is they have really done over the location, it used to house a fetid and skanky fast food outlet, the most nourishing thing about that place was the giant fibreglass, neon lit hotdog that used to sit on the roof.

The solid frankfurter also used to house every bird within a ten kilometre radius, of course the birds used it as a repository to evacuate their feathery bowels. Over time the mountain of solidifying bird shit far exceeded the height of the plastinated onions and sourkraut, to somewhat form a turd monument to the Materhorn. You know .. i have to admit, there is a little corner of my heart that secretly misses the shit caked weiner.

DON’T WORRY, YOKO’S ONLY LOOKING FOR A TURD IN THE SNOW:

Monday, November 8th, 2010

At last, the manifestation of ‘Yoko Presley’, she’s been a long time .. ummmm, coming, but at last she’s here.

BRIAN WILSON ENMORE THEATRE SYDNEY 5TH NOVEMBER 2010:

Monday, November 8th, 2010

Once again the great man, and his great band paid us a visit, and as ever we were totally blown away by Brian and the band. On a personal note it’s such a gift to have Brian the soundtrack to so many great friendships, long may he run.

In the name of artistic completeness, and to help make the evening more tangible for those who were’nt fortunate enough to be at the concert, i have included a photo of the guy who collected my ticket .. if i close my eyes i can see us walking down the isle .. not of the concert venue however.