My dear friend Amelia and I are attending the Bowie Ball at Berlin in Chicago tonight, and naturally, I’m going as Cyrinda Foxe. She’s the girl from “The Jean Genie” video and poster (among many other fascinating accomplishments). My goal is to emulate the poster look, below.
I’m basically live-blogging my day or whatever. This is turning out to be even more complicated than I ever would’ve imagined. Of course, no one is able to help me do my hair, so I have to somehow figure out how to make it look shorter and somewhat curled.
First of all, how in the name of everloving fuck do curlers even work? I’ve written research expositions that were simpler and more intuitive than this shit.
I had a feeling curlers would be a disaster, so I was really just planning on using them as a first step and then busting out the curling iron. As it happens, the curling iron has apparently been missing for months. This begs the question: Why am I just being informed of this now, instead of sometime during the past the three weeks that I’ve been talking about needing to curl my hair for the Bowie Ball? A mystery.
It’s starting to look like the best option here will be to forget about curls, just backcomb my entire head, and clip it back. A rat’s nest, basically. Like so:
Not sure why that photo’s so bright, but ‘kay.
I’ve also just received the news that Amelia is sick and will not be attending the ball tonight. This is pretty devastating, because I’ve been incredibly pumped up for this for a long time. It was to be one of the highlights of my winter, dressing up as my idol and going to a fabulous dance party. Anyone else I can even think to invite either dislikes Bowie or me or driving downtown on a winter’s night. It looks like I’m going alone, which means I’ll stand around the gay bar awkwardly, watch people dance for a few minutes, start crying out of loneliness, and drive the 2+ hours back home in the blizzard in my rental car.
(If you missed out on that story, I crashed my car into a stoplight pole in yesterday’s blizzard, and it’s totaled.)
As much as I pat myself on the back for failing at stereotypically feminine things like domesticity, I do wish I had the hair and makeup skillz. That would be so convenient.
Since I don’t, I’m just powdering my upper lids darkly like I always do. Then I’ll take the tiny bit of shimmery silver I have left to color my brow bone. Her eyeshadow looks blue, but I don’t have blue, so silver will have to work. I obvs have red lipstick though. Necessary.
Let’s talk about the wardrobe. My budget for this was about $15, and all 15 of those $ went to the jean capris, which I ordered off eBay. Then, they never came. Luckily I made a backup plan and asked around among my friends for any old jeans they didn’t need, since I started getting worried when I didn’t get the package before New Year’s. Jenny had jeans that fit me that she didn’t need anymore, so I simply cut them a little below the knee. I don’t have a leopard print halter top, but my little bustier does fine. The fishnet tights I borrowed from my sister, and I do not even want to know why there’s a giant, perfectly circular hole in the crotch. As for the shoes, well, I don’t have any gold, glittery platforms, nor do I want any. So I’m just wearing some platform sandals I bought back in middle school.
It’s not perfect, but I gotta say, it’s turning out pretty damn well. This is the first time I’ve dressed up as anyone in…wow, probably almost 15 years. It’s fun!
Wait. Everybody stop what you’re doing. I have just discovered this while googling “The Jean Genie” for more photos. Oh sweet darling!
Now that that’s out of the way, it’s time to put it all together. Here I am, in all my Cyrinda Foxe glory!
Off to the ball, where I’ll awkwardly await an invitation elsewhere, I guess. Goodnight!