How fitting that on the day of Dave Cameron's ascension, the New Romantics king Steve Strange should invite me to his birthday party at London's Green Carnation on May 21.
It's the early '80s again! Maggie's in No 10, and there's me empurpling my eye sockets (photos safely tucked away). There's something about Tories-in-power and makeup: they're soooo such a match.
Steve's timed his do to perfection, he's so with the zeitgeist, even unintentionally. And it's most considerate of Dave to furnish us with yet another blue political backdrop for transgender frolics (part deux: nostalgia rerun): how mysteriously do the cycles return us to square one.
Perhaps someone will launch a style mag and call it The Facelift.
7 comments:
I will too. Sloppy Seconds. X
I expected an anti-Tory rant. Instead you go trivial. Is this the real Madame Arcati?
Oh please go Madame and give him my love the poor thing. I wondered when he would atempt a come-back. He tried to strangle me several times. For absolutely no reason. A well to do hippy once left his Peruvian poncho at my house and Steve seized it and wore it to the Blitz. All the kds wore ponchos the next week. Now that's style !
He tried to strangle you? Was this part of some exotic sex game featuring satsuma slices, or something? I must tell Molly.
Feel free to attend , MA. Bruv will house-sit the Dacha. Steve Strange was my idol, my God. Can`t say I dressed as a new romantic tho (well, one simply didn`t in leafy Hertfordshire)
Don't know if I have the time, it takes about a week to prepare for these kind of dos. And people are sending me all sorts of strange, I mean curious, tales of past threesomes with the spawn of yesteryear TV household names - I have a reputation to uphold!
Well spotted.
I remember Bob Elms going on to me about how right wingers had so much more style...
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