HEATHERETTE'S SPRING 2008 RUNWAY SHOW

On the day of the show, I had a job offer to do some music consultation for a retail chain whose closest location to Manhattan is at the mall in Paramus, NJ. So they sent a car service at 9:30 am and I was off! When I arrived at 10:30 the mall was completely empty, except for the employees, some of whom are the most gorgeous Italian and hispanic clean clut, plucked-eye brow Jersey beef imaginable. The down side was that since other customers were slim pickin's, every one of the girls/guys manning the small booths in the middle of the aisle which sell anything from handcream to portable steamers to waterjet massages, would leap out at me with a cheery, "Can I ask you a question?" My father, always the grammatical whiz would have replied "You can, but you may not." (In case you aren't a grammatical whiz, the implication is that you can as in are able to ask, but no, I will not allow it. See why I'm on anti-depressants?) I wanted to shriek "Can you ask me a question? That is a fucking question!"

I was totally out of my element and haven't hung out in malls for years. Paramus is so huge that you get lost instantly and it could have served as quite a workout had my "routine" not been punctuated by stops at fast food joints! Anyway, I saw a couple of things which interested me. Don't these undies look stuffed? I mean like the kind of plumped up crotch you'd expect to see in a male slut-wear shop on Christopher Street back in the day. These are from Armani. The mannequins' basquets are actually formed a little to look like a little peanut dick atop a big old sack of bull balls. Maybe they were made in Ireland--you know, all potatoes and no meat?





I was also glad to see that Timbaland's window featured an eye-catching recycling theme. Hey, as long as people are sorting their trash, I don't care if they're doing because they think it's fashionable or not. Most of my tricks aren't even aware of the fact that I have two different trash cans in my home--my mouth and my asshole. That was a joke! (You're all wondering...Why did Bunny leave out her cunt? Aren't you guys sweet!) So my gentlemen callers usually just toss their recyclables--ie Schlitz cans, empty poppers bottles and broken glass pipes--into the same rubbish bin! It enfuriates me. As former Manhattan Borough President Ruth Messinger once read from a proclamation at Wigstock: "Bunny's wardrobe clearly shows her commitment to recycling." Wardrobe? Have you seen my new act? You never will!

What on earth does any of this babble have to do with Heathenette? Well, I received a call from my partner in crime, Dirty Diana of Houston and Los Angeles, letting me know that the show started 5:00 rather than 9:00. In a panic, I dashed back to Manhattan wondering which of my recycled frocks I could throw on for the show, and of course the paparazzi. I couldn't miss this show. Not only had I not been admitted to the last, somewhat disorganized show--giving up a front row seat next to THE Miss Piggy!--but in the back of my mind I was thinking "I need to support Richie Rich", 1/2 of the design team. He's a pal back from Disco 2000 days and is truly one of the sweetest and most upbeat personalities to emerge from the scene. He's also supported me by popping by Disco Tea at Splash, Wigstock, whatever I've done, really.

So I hurried home, selected a cartoon-y print with matching beret and hopped in a cab which got so bogged down in traffic that I had to jump out in midtown and walk 7 blocks. (The good news is that I was actually contacted by a potential internet sex contact who I'd been emailing. He called that night to reaffirm his interest after seeing me in the flesh--despite the fact that there is so much more flesh now than in the 5 year old heavily airbrushed studio portaits I'd shemailed him! What a freakish coincidence! The guy lives in Long Island and just happened to be on a streetcorner the moment I rushed by. God works in mysterious ways and I feel certain that this is a sign from Him Above to suck this guy off this weekend. I'll get down on my knees and thank him before devouring this. Thank you sweet Jesus for creating black donkey dicks which rise up with all God's Splendor at the thought of the stubbly mouth of a mature transvestite showgirl gobbling them greedily.



When I arrived at Gotham Hall, the line was already clean around the corner. Damn! Those must be some mighty good hot dogs!



THE GENIUS GENETICALLY FEMALE DRAG QUEEN LADYFAG, ONE OF MY FAV NEWCOMERS ON THE SCENE



The venue was immense and I had to laugh at my pitiful attempt to support a friend's work. Honey, they don't need your busted old booger ass for support! Heatherette is now officially HUGE! I guess I don't frequent any of the stores which stock their merchandise, and I've never seen any of their line at Lane Bryant. I had no clue!

THE GRANDNESS THAT IS GOTHAM HALL, THE VENUE FOR HEATHERETTE SPRING 2008



Natch, I was late and popped around backstage and caught this gorgeous shot of these incredible looks on these scintillating models. White grecian minis on black girls with 1960's pom-pom ponytails? HEAVENLY! Admit you love it now or die!





That was only a hint of what to come. I bumped into Miss J. Alexander, the judge from AMERICA'S TOP MODEL and since we'd had such a kiki when we travelled on the same flight to Savannah a few months ago, we agreed to sit together. How goofed was I when Jay pulled out the most genious accessory ever: A BLINGED-OUT JAR OF VASELINE! (Tyra gave them out on her show as her favorite beauty secret. It's my favorite lube. I guess that makes two assholes who swear by it!)





Although I'm not the biggest fan of all of his music, I did squeal when I saw P. Diddy. He does radiant power. And doesn't he look more handsome when he smiles? It really lights up his whole face and he looks really appealing. He should smile more. It's important to remain cheery while ditching your gun on the highway after a shoot-out in a club with J-Lo, smacking your bitch down on a boat in Monaco, etc. But for hip-hop mentality, you have to look mean, which explains his normal toothpick hanging out of an open mouth expression. The mouth open is actually more dumb than mean, but I guess it sort of signals "I'm dumb so I might REALLY hurt or shoot you if you mess with me." Hey, that's why the idiots in this country "elected" George Bush twice. "He may be dumb, but he's ready to fight. Too dumb to know which country to retaliate against, but he won't sit back and let us take another hit like 9/11 sitting down." Oh but wait, he WAS sitting down in a schoolroom reaing MY PET GOAT on 9/11. I'm so glad they didn't have any pesky old bombings like 9/11 to cancel Fashion Week again.

SINGER/SONGWRITER /COCKSUCKER TOBELL VON CARTIER IN THE HOUSE



A SEXY FACE IN THE CROWD





Speaking of dumb, the show started with a bang. Lil Mama performing her rap smash LIP GLOSS. It's hard for a drag queen not to like a song about cosmetics, but this "song" features a hook of:

What you know bout me
What you what you know bout me
What you know bout me
What you what you know


Isn't this kind of like that dreadful "You must not know 'bout me" from Beyonce's IRREPLACEABLE? I'm glad to see that some hip-hop records are embracing knowledge as opposed to violence, misogyny and homophobia. Oh, and luxury brands like Louis Vitton and Moet. The writer of LIP GLOSS couldn't even think of anything more luxurious than L'Oreal. More lyrics.

They say my lip gloss is poppin
My lip gloss is cool
All the boys be jockin
They chase me after school

Mac Mac, Loreal yep cause I'm worth it
Love the way I puts it on so perfect
Wipe the corners of my mouth so I work it
When I walk down the hallway they cant say nothin
Oh oh oh my lips so luscious
The way I spice it up with the Mac Mac brushes
Loreal got them most watermelon crushes
That's probably the reason all these boys got crushes

I'm just over the hill! It's no longer possible for me to relate to today's pop music if it's all about lockers and lip gloss at lunchtime. A curious dilemna for a "dj". But when the song's popularity forces me to play this shit, please feel free to come and laugh right in my fucking face. More lyrics:

When its time for lunch my lips still rock
Lil mama melon with the hot pink top
Cherry, vanilla, flavors its a virtue
They, lovin, lip gloss universal
The boys really like it
The girls don't speak
They rolling they eyes
They lip gloss cheap
It ain't my fault
But I could upgrade you
Show you how to use nice things
with nice flavors

Well now that's sweet of her to offer to help out the other schoolgirls with her superior taste in maquillage. But I think Lil Mama could use a lesson in grammar from my daddy. This song is so ig'nunt that Shirley Q. Liquor could add it to her act as is.



Lil Mama was featured in this outfit in last week's Star magazine, in which I write "fashion" comments weekly. I often like the outfits, but the Worst Of The Week doesn't want praise. My comment fav comment for her was "Everything's better with Blue Bonnet on it--except her!" But they went with my "This look should've never left her crib." I suppose references to 25 year old margarine commercials are a little too old fat--I mean old hat for the Star's average reader. Get it? That was a play on words with margarine and fat and old ha--never mind.

The show did start with a bang, and for teenagers who require nothing but the latest beat to whip themselves into the same frenzy which TURNING JAPANESE used to send me into, LIP GLOSS did the trick. And Heatherette is marketed to a younger, trendier crowd so it was a perfect choice. Whatever I feel about the lyrics, Lil Mama and her dancers put on a helluva show. Their youthful exuberance sent the audience's energy through the roof. Check out the face on this one--I know it's a blurry pic--but it's so full of sass that I love it.



One dancer stood out with his gorgeous face. I was so captivated that I'm sure people were wondering while I was snapping away at the back-up dancer. And drooling. While twiddling my nipples. And jacking off...Miss J.'s cock...with a rhinestoned poppers bottle...while mouthing "I'm sorry, Jon Benet," repeatedly.



But what a bizarre combo to see P. Diddy, dandy Patrick McDonald in a spiked helmet and high fashion
club kid Kenny Kenny's lace cloche lined up as the very latest fashions whirled by.

I saw a lot of red, white and blue--not navy--but a bright blue. I remember this color combo fondly from the '70's, along with this mega-ill sock and wedge heel treatment. Lot's of really sick shoes! (And yes, I'm aware that my pix aren't all that. But the models were moving targets!)





I caught a close-up of Amanda Lepore's footwear and joked with her that "I know you didn't choose those shoes." She's a classic, stilleto-wearing sex-pot and she laughed and said "No, I didn't." I actually kicked off fashion week by bumping into Miss Lepore at the wig store on 14th St. She normally likes to add falls to her own hair and they have to match. So when she has roots, she actually adds self-tanner to the platinum wigs so the colors synch up. Who'd have thunk it? That's dedication for you!

I snapped this shot of the shoes being carted away backstage. Really cuckoo but fab!



BUT BACK TO THE CLOTHES! I loved this frothy chiffon creation. I wouldn't wear it with a baseball cap, but the colors of lovely. It matches my teeth--both of 'em! (Ba-dum-pum!)



Vocal impressionist extraordinaire Jimmy James was in the crowd. He seemed literally unhinged at the teeny size of the models as he fondled his chins, perplexed.



This gown was a sparkly knock-out with long black sequinned strips dangling beneath the mini.



THE CROWD WENT NUTS FOR THIS FAMOUS MODEL. ANYONE KNOW HER NAME? LOVE HER SQUARE FACE!



NOT A MODERN-DAY TAKE ON THE PHRYGIAN BONNET FOR MEN! OR IS IT MORE ATTIC HELMET? OR CHALCIDIAN HELMET WITH NO NASAL BAR? I'LL BET YOU HAD NO IDEA I WAS SO SCHOOLED IN ANCIENT HELLENISTIC HEADGEAR!



RICHIE! YOU CAN'T FOOL ME! THIS WAS ONE OF MICHAEL ALIG'S OLD LOOKS FROM DISCO 2000. It was rumored that Michael would be making an appearance. Unfortunately he had a prior engagement. Michael's kind of lost his sense ofstyle, anyway. He's barely changed his look in years! He's lucky that he looks good in stripes!





To me, the menswear was a little iffier, though I loved these plaid shorts--especially since it looks like a whopper is about to pop out of them! I'm so happy that shorts are finally inching above the knee. We've been stuck with those dreadful jams-length shorts for a decade. Another trend, including in this show, that I'm not too thrilled with is the return of camouflage. I don't ask for much political correctness, but is this really the time to promote that war is cool in any way? I saw a lot of camo in England, some of it was so swirly and tripped out (shorts by Stussy) that it suggests anti-establishment acid trip more than combat. But it does look cute with a white bow and empire waist--a silhoutte which I favor heavily. VERY HEAVILY! OINK!



NYMAG.COM remarked in shock that Heatherette had actually designed it's first wearable collection. These draped dresses were chic and the fabric wasn't too outlandish. Perhaps that's what they were referring to.



I still preferred the white on black look.



Porn star Jenna Jameson, Amanda and the designers came out for the finale, Richie on his traditional rollerskates--he got his start as a professional ice-skater in San Fran. Is there anything gayer? I thought Jenna was Posh Spice since they have the same 'do. I'm not exactly a pussy-porn afficionado, so I probably wouldn't recognize her if she were naked with her longer, whorier hair. But everyone was saying she looked deathly thin, for what that's worth.

Backstage, I shot Amanda with one of my myspace friends, who is very beautiful, but who looks like a gorgeous version of Lurch, right?



Two scenesters who date back to the Pyramid Club backstage!



Another familiar and oh so lovely face.



These male models were adorable and their jock friend, left was 7 feet tall. His finger is bigger than most guys penises. Ooh, I'm getting those anal contractions again!



I caught r&b star Maya mopping from the rack!



Maya, flanked by the designers, then hung her head in shame.



It was pandemonium backstage--even George Whipple showed up to interview Richie and Traver! What a night!



And to top it all off, I shared a cab home with Kevin Aviance! An especially rare treat since he's relocated to Minneapolis temporarily to deal with some persistent issues. He'd come in to perform at Rentboy's Hustlaball at HERO a couple nights before. He looked well and was in excellent spirits.



Tomorrow--MARC JACOBS' SHOW AND V MAGAZINE'S EXCLUSIVE SOIREE FOR PHOTOG MARIO TESTINO'S NEW BOOK, LIMA.

I would love some feedback from this post because if you don't like the pix--I'll skip them! It takes ages for my computer illiterate ass to resize and post them and I won't do it if you no likey!