Glam Date 7/24:
Bridges, Femmes, Photos & Queens
The Sparkling Valley They Call L.A.
Glam Date 7/19:
Jezebelles Add Sparkle To The Emerald City
It's Not A Diva Thing
Glam Date 7/7:
A Jezzie Kind Of Town, Chicago Is
Independence Day
Glam Date 7/3:
Jezmobile On The Loose
Diva Profiling (aka Blame Canada -- Part 2)
Jezebelle C Meets Her Fans
Pop Stars And Shopping Malls
Glam Date 6/21:
New York Girl Rocks America
The Jezebelles Stop Traffic
Glam Date 6/14:
2000AD Inside 6BC
Only Rock And Roll, But We Like It
Glam Date 6/7:
Rain Can't Stop Jezebelle Parade
Jezzie Mania Hits the Hinterlands
Glam Date 5/31:
From The Bowels Of Manhattan
Jezzies On The Net
Glam Date 5/24:
The Wild Party
New King In The Court
Glam Date 5/17:
Merciful Diva
Jezebelle C Gets Wet & Wild
Glam Date 5/10:
Blisters, Testicles & One Testy Diva
Tracking Lust
Glam Date 5/3:
Lust, Glamour, Literature!
From The Sacred To The Profane
Glam Date 4/26:
The Jezzies Glitter At Bluestockings
The Swedish Strawberry, Jesus & Mumia
Glam Date 4/19:
Jezebelles In The News
Blame Canada
Glam Date 4/12:
The Jezebelles And Their Sinful Idolatrous Rituals
Jezzies Applaud Sleuthing Sisters
Glam Date 4/5:
The Jezebelles Lend A Hand
Jezebelle C Gets Star Treatment In Lewisburg, PA
| Glam Date: August 17, 2000 | |
| Food: | Shrimp Etouffe & Catfish Po'Boys |
| Shelter: | Uptown, New Orleans & Downtown Atlanta |
| Clothing: | Sunflower Sunflower Hotpants & Cowgirl Jackets |
Well, the final leg of the Jezzie Tour ended as it began -- with a whirlwind of sparkle and Jazz. We sped along historic Route 66 through the painted canyons of Arizona, picking up a speeding ticket in the Petrified Forrest (our only ticket of the trip), and guided only by our star-studded compass made it to the amazing town of Albuquerque. After 30 days of sun the city welcomed us with a downpour and a rainbow. And yes, we followed that rainbow until it led us to the magical mall that housed -- Page One Books, the home of another completely full-to-the-brim Jezzie reading. (The Jezebelles would like to reply with a "no comment" to accusations that when the bookstore ran out of books, special deals were made for bootleg versions sold out of the back of an unmarked car in the parking lot.) Without a moment to spare we were back in the Jezzmobile and headed toward Austin, Texas via Tucumcari, New Mexico, a glorious tribute to the days of neon-lit motels and drive in restaurants. In Austin, we found that Harry Potter had once again paved our way in the town, and even though we were under him on the marquee outside of Bookpeople we were way above him in the number of live appearances. Yes, by now you've guessed it, we read to another wonderful crowd -- this one also included our number one Glam Lit fan. (Hi Lisa)
The Grand Finale
We continued to follow the arc of the rainbow, which brought us to the garden of earthly delights: the magical, the spiritual, the unbelievable, the home of desire, the home of Jazz (a big role on the drums) New Orleans. Rumors of censorship in the Big Easy are not completely unfounded. It's true that during the performance at Barnes & Noble, when the live Harpist stopped playing and the words "shaving her pussy" echoed through the self-help aisles, the sound was lowered on our mic, and the store manager did suggest that we "revisit" the terms of our contract. Of course, the Jezzies are good girls and we continued on in the spirit of rebellion -- we used the same words, only the decibel level got lower. And last, but by absobloominglutely no means least, we wended our way to the land of peaches and speeches, the beautiful city of Atlanta. Atlanta was truly the peach in our pie, the icing on our cake. It was hard to say goodbye to the lines of fans who were so expressive in their adoration. (Thanks Charis Books. Thanks Outwrite.) And on a final note: to those of you who sent emails asking if it was true that we had all given birth in the south. No of course not, we were much too busy to go into labor. The baby sightings are really Blossom, Buttercup and Bubbles -- our plushie Power Puff doppelgangers.
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| Glam Date: July 24, 2000 | |
| Food: | Tofu Burritos & Mango Magaritas |
| Shelter: | Sea Captains Motel & Mount Washington Retreat |
| Clothing: | Brown Pleather Jackets & Spaghetti Strap Tops |
Our days in San Francisco were packed! We had originally planned to paint the Golden Gate Bridge a sparkling shade of Jezebelle Gold, but we were just too damn busy! We pulled in Wednesday night for a gig at the very glamorous Coco Club. The room was full to the brim, the audience attentive. The feeling was pure electricity as usual. Our hostess, the very sexy Shar Rednour, read from the informative introduction from her new book, The Femmes Guide to the Universe. Then came a reading from the fierce and comical Justin Chin, one of only two Jezeboys to share our stage. A special treat for us that night was meeting Rachelle, one of the chicks behind our San Francisco-based tour sponsor chickclick.com. The next day we found ourselves in the lovely loft of photographer Karima Cherif. The striking Ms. Cherif would make an ideal model herself, but the day was all about us and our photo shoot for Curve magazine (look for us in the September Issue). That night we descended upon Castro Street for a reading at A Different Light, one of the nicest glbt bookstores in the country. Our guest reader Thea Hillman, looking fab in her glitter lip gloss and Vinyl goddess backpack enraptured the crowd with her tales of lust, longing and being on a cross-country poetry tour! Friday night we joined one of our favorite writers, Michelle Tea and the fantabulous Clint Catalyst at their joint book party for their respective books, Valencia and Cottonmouth Kisses. Saturday afternoon we drove out to the East Bay to Mama Bear in Oakland where we were met by a quaint group of literature-loving women, minus the one crusty dame who left the room at the mention of the word pornography. Her loss. To leave San Francisco with a bang, we headed to Good Vibrations for a gig with the legendary Carol Queen -- a gal well versed in the tenets of pornography herself. She read from her lascivious little novel, The Leather Daddy and the Femme, and gave us a ten percent discount at the sex toy emporium. Now this is our kind of feminist!
The Sparkling Valley They Call L.A.
We pulled into Santa Monica on a bright and shiny Sunday afternoon. We mingled with the LA people and let the gentle sway of the crowd usher us into the Midnight Special bookstore for our first reading in this city of glamour. The first star we met was our guest reader, the spectacular novelist, Nina Revoyr. We dined at the oldest Mexican restaurant in tinsel town, which dates as far back as 1850. Now that's a piece of history. The second night we traveled back up the cost for a reading at the Jolly Tiger in Santa Barbara, the land of beautiful beaches and bubbleheads and signs that warn against wearing stilleto-heeled shoes at the boardwalk. Not the best scenario for a Jezebelle on the beach! The next star to join us was the out-of-this-world poet Jeffery McDaniel -- the second official Jezeboy of the Glam Lit Tour. We spent the rest of our time in LA driving around the hills and valleys of this star-studded wonderland noting how remarkably similar to the sets of 90210 and Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous it all seemed.
And here's an interesting little side note: It seems Harry Potter & David Sedaris have both had the exact same idea as the Jezebelles. Every time we pull into a venue we can see the track marks left behind by David Sedaris' limo and the stardust left from Harry Potter's magical footprints. Could it be they both know something that we all should know? That no town is big enough to accommodate more than one literary star of the open road. Thanks boys for warming up the crowd. We hope they've been as good to you as they've been to us.
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| Glam Date: July 19, 2000 | |
| Food: | Salmon, Tuna & Middle Eastern Platters |
| Shelter: | The Blue Room, Zen Gardens & Trees |
| Clothing: | Plaid Pants, Shiny Silver Nylon & Leopard Skin Tops |
We pierced the bright blue skyline of Seattle (yes, the sun was shining for the Jezzies in Seattle) with our second rental car -- a golden jezmobile -- and made our way down highway five to the Blue Room, a little haven north of the city. It took us only a few minutes to realize we'd left our sleeping bags spinning round and round at the airport. Luckily, our hosts provided us with a bed and air mattress, both with sheets! Never did we imagine we would fetishize sheets. We were well prepared for our gigs, the first at Toys in Babeland, where we read amid the colored dildoes and lubricants. The next night found us at Elliot Bay Books -- the biggest, phattest, most amazing independent bookstore in Seattle -- reading to the biggest crowd of the tour so far. We're not lying when we say people had flown in from NYC just to be there. We obliged them with a Q&A finale, where we turned the tables and asked the audience if we had succeeded in our mission to save the world of literary readings from it's stuffiness. And finally our well-earned day off took us to a magical island off the coast of Seattle, the spell broken momentarily when a fascist-minded representative from the local authorities scolded us for cutting the ferry line (a legitimate accident, we swear it!) and made us go back to the end of the line and wait another half hour for the ferry. Apparently, these people take the law very seriously.
It's Not A Diva Thing
Driving down highway 5, we called our Portland hosts to check in before our 5 o'clock reading at In Other Words. They were more than happy to hear from us, in fact they seemed a bit relieved and worried that we were going to be late. "Don't be silly," we assured them, "we've gotten so cocky, we can pull into town five minutes before a reading!" Okay, they said still sounding worried, but we'll head over there now and tell them you'll be there. We thought that was just so sweet of them to get there an hour early just to proclaim our arrival. When we got to the store and saw our tour poster stating that the reading was at 4 o'clock our mouths dropped. Inside, the room was packed and our guest reader, Ms. Briget Benton, was on stage entertaining the crowd. But, as you by now already know, a Jezzie never lets herself get flustered. We applauded Ms. Benton and then began to set-up the show while simultaneously joking with the crowd. They were enthralled by our ability to lecture on the logistics of touring in between making off the cuff literary Jez anecdotes. The next night found us facing the largest crowd of our tour, to date -- 120 people filled Powell's, a humungous bookstore that takes up an entire city block. We read with the highly glamorous Jemiah Jefferson, author of a brand new limited edition chapbook StarF**king, which includes individual baggies of black and purple glitter. Again, we entertained another highly-spirited Q&A session which culminated in our revealing to our audience that the stories they heard were true -- we had packed more than makeup and the glitter in our suitcases. Yes, if you dig down deep into our secret compartments you will find a tongue scraper and gilded framed pictures of two Jezzie cats. Hi Sabrina and Mao.
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| Glam Date: July 7, 2000 | |
| Food: | Portobello Mushrooms And Lentils Over Cous Cous |
| Shelter: | Lake Michigan Condo |
| Clothing: | Halter Tops, Running Shorts, & Brand New Jeans |
And the media blitz has begun. Our arrival in Chicago was heralded with a barrage of media. Are you counting? One, two, three newspapers had the Jezebelles listed as the event of the week, the roadshow of the year. Yes, it’s true, we ran out of chairs for the audience at Women and Children First. But you know we’re only part time divas, so we humbly gave up our seats to our devoted fans. The gig rocked. If there had been a thermometer to measure the temperature of the room it would have blown its top. Pulses raced, hearts fluttered, faces flushed, and women and men fanned themselves in a desperate attempt to keep themselves from losing their respective cools. And just when we thought things couldn’t get any better, the gig at Quimby’s the following night proved us wrong. The crowd there was cool, and sexy, and smart. They hung on to our every word as though we were channeling from Patti Smith or God. Quimby's gets a special shout out and prize for awarding each jezzie a $25 spending spree in the store.
Independence Day
There we were in the heartland of America on that most American of holidays with nothing to do but check out Ruminator books in St. Paul who was sponsoring our reading the next evening -- a swell store by the way with an above average selection of poetry on its shelves. Before the fireworks began along the mighty Mississippi we decided to visit the garish and lively Mall of America. Now, a few of us began life as suburban girls ourselves and therefore are attuned to the site of a shopping mall, but even we couldn’t have envisioned the Camp Snoopy amusement park -- complete with a roller coaster, merry-go-round, and undersea world, among other things. What a bizarre site for our travel-weary eyes. Afterwards we walked along the Mississippi, where signs welcomed the American Family to the events that evening. Not feeling quite part of the American Family, we attempted to see the new Jim Carey movie, where we spent approximately five minutes before walking out and demanding our money back the movie was so bloody offensive, and instead we slipped into a site called "The Museum of Questionable Medical Devices". There we learned the benefits of various vibrating machines as touted by numerous quacks throughout the 20th Century. Now, of course, nobody has to tell a Jezebelle the benefits of vibration and gyration, especially Jezebelle C who celebrated America’s rebellion against colonization dancing into the wee hours. We hear Minneapolis wins the prize for serving the strongest drinks in the land.
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| Glam Date: July 3, 2000 | |
| Food: | Vegan Vietnamese Vegetable Dumplings |
| Shelter: | Madonna's Shrine & President Coolidge's Suite |
| Clothing: | Body Mist, Capri Pants & Vinyl |
Despite the centrifugal force making it virtually impossible to leave NYC -- exit took three hours -- we arrived at our first gig, Borders/Framingham, with time to sip on our soy-based chai and reapply our lip gloss. When three old people walked out of our reading and complained to the manager we knew we were on the right literary track. (Apparently, fornicating zebras did not make for their listening pleasure -- thanks Erica.) After a standing ovation from the rest of the crowd, we were whisked away in our silver jezmobile (see upcoming picture gallery for stunning images of our bus) to crack open a bottle of champagne with our host and guest reader Erica Ferencick and her husband (and our chef) George. We sipped on bubbly and munched on grilled edibles until the wee hours of the morning. The next day found us at New Words, the swankiest feminist bookstore we've ever set our eyes upon, where we read with the brilliant and sublime Letta Neely. One city down, fifteen to go.
Diva Profiling (aka Blame Canada -- Part 2)
Never fuck with the border patrol, especially when you're three chicks in sunglasses, driving a big-ass silver van with Florida plates. It didn't take long for the Canadian authorities to surmise that we were up to no good. They had us pull over. A woman promptly took inventory of our books, CDs, chickclick paraphernalia and decided that we were on a mission to unload our goods in Canada. Despite Jezebelle L's plea: "I promise I won't open up my box of books until we leave Canada!" they were going to tax us big-time. Jezebelle E then worked a stroke of genius. "Look," she said, "is there any way we can leave everything here and pick it up on our way back into the States?" We didn't care about the stuff, she swore, we just needed it for the rest of the tour. The stone-guard then stepped away and called our host in Montreal to check out our story (we're reading at a couple of bookstores; the CD is a promotional item; no, we're not getting paid. Even David Sedaris doesn't get paid for reading in bookstores!) They finally let us go, a bit frazzled but no worse for wear. In fact, we considered ourselves lucky they didn't look too carefully at any of our books -- after all this is the country that a decade ago adopted draconian anti-porn laws and threatened to arrest Madonna for simulating masturbation. It's also the country that dedicated a park to Celine Dion, but that's another story.
Jezebelle C Meets Her Fans
Montreal is Jezebelle C's kind of town. Upon arriving our host, Larissa Andrushyshun, threw her arms around us and told us how she'd been dying to meet Jezebelle C since she first read her poem "You Are Not A Hetero Diva" a few years ago. Apparently, Larissa had praised Jezebelle C's work to half of Montreal as the crowds flocked into two performances waiting from a word from our little diva herself. Of course, she was smashing, her words careening from her mouth to the ears of her adoring fans. "You know," said Jezebelle C. "I think I could actually live in this city."
Pop Stars And Shopping Malls
We entered Ontario with trepidation. The vision of Madonna, praying to God in Truth or Dare, for help in what she phrased "the fascist state of Toronto" replayed itself in our minds. If the divine queen of all things fierce had a hard time here, what would they make of Glam Lit? The fact that we were appearing around the corner from a live interactive performance by diminutive teen superstar Christina Aguilera did nothing to ease our minds nor did the fact that our gig was inside a nightmarishly large yet wonderfully ostentatious building. We took the escalator three flights up to the quiet fireplaced balcony where browsers quickly dispersed upon hearing that a literary reading was going to take place. You would have thought we were about to release anthrax onto the plush brown carpeting. Apparently they had all been victims of traditionally staid readings and were expecting us to don black. With the help of our goodie bags from chickclick.com we were able to persuade listeners with the tiny packets of body glitter and temporary tattoos. After the show, one listener commented, "I didn't know what to expect. I always thought readings were like these distinct forms of torture. But, you guys, you guys are like Rock Stars". Glam Lit prevails once again.
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| Glam Date: June 21, 2000 | |
| Food: | Thai Salad |
| Shelter: | Motel 6 |
| Clothing: | Sunscreen |
Luminaries of the downtown NYC poetry scene strutted out in force for the premiere last week of Jezebelle C's newest chapbook New York Girl. (It's her fifth chapbook, by the way and five is indeed a lucky number for the youngest Jezebelle). Rumor has it that orders for the sleek little tome have been coming in from bookstores in major metropolitan areas throughout the country. In fact, we can't remember the last time a chapbook has caused such a sensation. Of course it's no surprise to those of us who've been following the youngest Jezzie through her illustrious rise and recent retirement from the slam poetry scene. Her new work is bolder, wilder, and sexier than ever. We salute this New York girl.
The Jezebelles Stop Traffic
This past weekend we packed up our baubles, bows and books and headed south on I-95 to Baltimore, the birthplace of glamour icon John Waters. We were greeted by Jezebelle L’s fan club, an intimate group of Kamikaze Lust junkies who sat enraptured at her feet as she read juicy excerpts from her novel. Afterwards, we were joined by a caravan of Glam Lit acolytes for a trip to the local women’s bar, Coconuts. As we crossed a two way street used as a tram route, the conductor slammed on the brakes and announced to the whole city, "I’m gonna stop and let these three pretty ladies cross." Apparently, he too was caught up in the shiny, lacy, animal print ecstacy of Glam Lit. On Sunday we travelled to our nation’s capital for a gig at Lamma’s Womens Books. We were greeted by the familiar faces of family and friends, not to mention the odd politician and dignitary. As we drove back home, we were hit with a terrible storm, during which we graced a Denny’s in South Jersey and observed the makeup and speech patterns of the locals.
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| Glam Date: June 14, 2000 | |
| Food: | Grapes and Frosted Gingersnaps |
| Shelter: | Inner City Landscaped Grotto |
| Clothing: | Camouflage-Print Mini Skirt |
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When an East Village Jezzie has an East Village gig she comes loaded with ammunition. She packs her wheely thing with copies of Kamikaze Lust, Pinot Grigio, seltzer, and giveaway goodies from Chickclick.com. This outdoor literary event took place in the garden of earthly delights (aka 6BC) with Jezzie L and her Glam Lit Boy counterpart-Douglas Martin, author of the brand new novel, Outline of my Lover. We joined the rest of the audience, sipping on various nectars and feeding each other grapes. Once their words had finished weaving in and out of the leafy landscape, we took it in turns to document the moment with the new and official Jez digital camera. Now if you've been following Glam Notes, you know that a Jezebelle event rarely takes place without being punctuated by an apres-literary soire, and Sunday was no exception to the rule. Accompanied by a group of writers, singers, and filmmakers we held an East Village Algonquin rectangular table -- a feast of words and food that lasted for hours and hours and hours. |
Only Rock And Roll, But We Like It
We were thrilled to hear of Sinead's coming out last week, and at the onset of her new CD release complete with the track "No Man's Woman." Now we've always loved the little lass with her pierced nose and piercing lyrics. Remember it was Sinead who tore up a picture of the Pope, who refused to perform on Saturday Night Live if Andrew Dice Clay was performing. It was also Sinead who a couple of years ago took a vow of celibacy and became a priest, or something like that, and then smiled deliciously a few months later when she'd relinquished her vows. The celibacy thing wasn't working for her. Something else was working her, apparently. Something that had her telling Curve Magazine point blank: "I am a lesbian." It was so much fun to see news outlets throughout the land quoting the glossy lesbian magazine, pretending they were hip enough to know there were any glossy lesbian magazines to begin with. The only question left unanswered: Does she have a girlfriend?
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| Glam Date: June 7, 2000 | |
| Food: | Protein Bars |
| Shelter: | Dixon Place |
| Clothing: | Studs, Laces, Vinyl & Glitter |
Yes, it poured torrents of rain, but no amount of wet stuff dripping from the sky could put out a Jezebelle fire. We braved hell and highwater as we streamed along highways in a golden jezziemobile to pick up our hot-off-the-CD-press copies of Sinful Idolatrous Rituals just in time to munch on a protein bar before the show at Dixon Place. The damp audience dried off as the house lights dimmed and the Glam Lit Manifesto filled the theater. Crowds cheered. It was showtime. Mr. Cabico with his expert MC skill spun the show into a frenzy. Marie-Alyce (Music Diva) sang until our hearts burst open and then stopped to outline the top 5 reasons why the Jezebelles are better than Prozac. Our personal favorite: Little blue pills can't wear high heels. The BackDoor Boys (Drag Kings) took choreography to new borders -- the place where pop music intersects with sex toys. Literary Hero Ms. Myles was her fantabulous self, wowing the audience with tales of poison ivy, and nuns, and girl/boys. Sexologist Dr. Ducky Doolittle lectured on the dangers and pleasure of anal sex, flipping through charts to educate us all on the sacred anus and to warn us of the attraction that male butts have towards magic markers. Ms. Sparkle, the perfect emissary from the Tart Noir gals, told a cautionary tale of oddball relatives and homemade spanking paddles. Finally, we pumped the show to a close with a live rendition of Jezebelle Was. As the audience filed out loaded with ChickClick paraphernalia, Jez CD's and books, we couldn't help but notice that they were leaving not only drier than when they'd first arrived, but also taller. Yes, it's true, the show had elevated them to a tier that is now being referred to in NYC as Glam Lit Euphoria. Message to America from the Jezebelles: Glam Lit Euphoria will be coming to a venue near you soon. Be [not] afraid. Be [not] very afraid.
Jezzie Mania Hits the Hinterlands
This week the e-switchboard at Jezzie Central has been buzzing with messages from cities as far and wide as Houston, Phoenix, Chapel Hill, Philadelphia, and London all of which are clamoring for a Jezebelle event of their very own. While we jumped at the chance to book a gig at the ICA in London for the fall, we are also considering a number of spot tours throughout the year to visit cities we'll miss on the inaugural Glam Lit tour this summer. If you don't see your city on our tour schedule and would like us to visit, please submit a 200-word essay beginning with the following sentence: The Jezebelles should visit my city because...
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| Glam Date: May 31, 2000 | |
| Food: | Nondairy Cheesecake |
| Shelter: | Kate's Corner |
| Clothing: | Sheer Rainbow-dyed Top And A Sun Hat |
Thursday found us at Bluestockings -- home of literature that has the capacity to rock library stacks nationwide -- for a celebratory reading of Jez E's new book, mercy mercy me. Jez E was joined by Eileen Myles recently returned from literary stardom in LA, Letta Neely, who came to town on the Glamour Bus from literary Boston, and Melinda Goodman, the homegirl representing the East Village. Goodman read A Lullaby For A Butch that did everything but put us to sleep. Myles found God, Zen and golden calla lilies in never-before-heard renditions of Jez E's poems, and Neely had us on our knees with poems about Mona and Lisa and Rhonda. Two after-reading dinner parties simultaneously ensued at two Lower East Side locations. Fortunately, the conversations were linked through technology -- cell phones to the rescue -- we talked about tinctures and other life-saving drugs (you can read between the lines here) and the behavior of the lower regions of our anatomies. Yeah, you know, the ones you're not supposed to talk about at the table. We laughed until our bowels relaxed.
Jezzies On The Net
We were pleased to see the Jezebelle mission immortalized in print (well, at least in typeface) on the chickclick web site this week. chickclick, the smart and sassy hub for girls on the web, also happens to be an official sponsor of The Glam Lit Tour. In the site's summer reading section, journalist Kira Garcia -- a credit to her profession of charlatans and sycophants -- manages to turn three hours of candid Jezebelle interviews into a fabulicious little story, if we don't say so ourselves. We love the gals at chickclick, and can't wait to see them when the Glam Lit tour bus rolls out to the West Coast.
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| Glam Date: May 24, 2000 | |
| Food: | Birthday Cake |
| Shelter: | St. Marks Church |
| Clothing: | Platform Shoes and Chest Hair |
Saturday night we were back in the hip and glamorous neighborhood of Williamsburg, Brooklyn. This time we were there for poetry scene diva Regie Cabico’s 30th Birthday Party. After gorging on delicious hors d’oeuvres and red wine, we were treated to performances from members of the band Daddy. The lead singer was definite Jezebelle material in her oh-so-short dress and 8 inch platform heels. She was introduced as a cross between Courtney Love and Carol Channing and lived up to that reputation. This was followed by an inspired reading of the seminal Patti Smith poem, Piss Factory, by Douglas A. Martin. To top off the evening, Mr. Cabico himself emerged as his alter ego Tina Turn-her. We were mesmerized by her world famous legs glistening in gold high heels and the way her stonewashed denim jacket complimented her curves. As we feasted on sinful Strawberry Shortcake and champagne, she sashayed her way through old favorites ranging from Private Dancer to Typical Male.
New King In The Court
Monarchs of Manhattan take notice: there is a new king in town and he's wearing a sweat suit. Some say the swarthy wordsmith Gerald B. was prophesied by the ancient books of transvestitism; others swear he descended from the heavens, a vision in big round glasses, too much body hair, and a hard-packed eight inches in his nylon pants. Rumor has it he's related to Jezebelle C -- a fact we at Jezebelle Headquarters will neither confirm nor deny, although he does share her knack for a good metaphor and dynamic stage presence. Ladies, ask him to read you a few lines from his infamous Camaro poem; we promise you'll never look at a sportscar the same way again.
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| Glam Date: May 17, 2000 | |
| Food: | Kale, Tofu, and Seaweed |
| Shelter: | Wet, Wet Williamsburg |
| Clothing: | Impractical Red Flowered Dress |
The party for Jezebelle E's poetic voyage, mercy mercy me, was indeed a glamorous affair. We braved the swarms of fans storming Teachers & Writers Collaborative on Union Square, flowers in hand, eager to bestow their gifts upon the grand dame of groove-loving poetry, only to find the poet nowhere in sight and not a free seat in the house. There was a buzz of anticipation in the air, concerned fans turned to their neighbors asking, where is she? Just then, true to form, the diva arrived in a floor-length green dress and announced that she might have tried to imagine her audience naked, but it became difficult when you knew so many of them. "I'll put your clothes back on," she said. "And you do the same for me." Of course, as she read her twisted love poems and elegiac paeans to the gods of love and longing, her coverings molted at the speed of light. She was beautiful. She was graceful. She even made losing her place in a poem seem classy. After the reading, adoring fans snaked around the office for a chance to greet the diva and if they were lucky snag a signed copy of mercy mercy me before the books sold out. We munched carrot sticks until the crowd began to scatter, and we followed Jezebelle E through the misty streets of Manhattan to her favorite local restaurant. In her arms, were hundreds of roses, lilacs, daisies, and tulips.
Jezebelle C Gets Wet & Wild
Saturday night, we descended upon Clovis Press, the adorable and fascinating independent bookstore in the Hipster town of Williamsburg, Brooklyn for a reading by Jezebelle C, aka "the testy diva". We were joined by other poetry scene stars: Regie Cabico, Anne Elliott, Guillermo Castro and Jeffrey McDaniel from Los Angeles. Also in attendance were Douglas A. Martin, Brian Blanchfield and Nicole Blackman. After the brief and mesmerizing affair, we stepped outside for food and imbibement and were quickly swept up in a terrible monsoon. The group dispersed to find shelter, and Jezebelle C, worried about the fate of a few members of the crew, set out in search of her friends. Armed with nothing but her humanitarian instinct and her cell phone, she ran through the slippery wet streets of Williamsburg, her four-inch platforms slicing through puddles, her handbag snug in place at her shoulder, calling out "Regie, Douglas, where are you guys?" She finally found them eating brown rice at the local Vegan restaurant.
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| Glam Date: May 10, 2000 | |
| Food: | Vegetarian Quesadilla & Tequila |
| Shelter: | Jez HQ -- Downtown Locale |
| Clothing: | Sandals, Sandals, Sandals |
The weather shot forward into summer this past weekend and had a disastrous effect on the Jezebelles. Let us explain. When the degrees go up, the clothes come off. We stripped off our boots and donned our glamorous sandals, but our skin was tender (note: all the Jezebelles have extremely tender skin). The rub of new leather was too much friction for our toes to bear. Blisters loomed large. No matter how many Bandaids were enlisted to reduce the pain, we still found ourselves hobbling to Meow Mix to see Sister Spit perform. Spoken-word divas Michelle Tea and Sini Anderson -- who had her own podiatric problems due to a karaoke accident that left her on crutches -- were spectacular hosts. But when Jezebelle C got up to perform, the heat, her blisters, and the decibel level of the audience was too much for her. She stamped her foot and demanded: "Shut up. I'm an artist." The crowd hushed. A reverence filled the air. She rocked the house. On the train journey home, a man in shorts opened his legs and out spilled his giant testicles. Here's a Public Health Warning from the Jezebelles: Please wear underwear on the NYC subway.
Tracking Lust
We are not obsessed. Not us, no way. And we are definitely not checking amazon.com every hour to chart the rise and fall of Jezebelle sales ranks. Still, we were happy to hear the book club at the gay and lesbian community center in Baltimore last week read and discussed Kamikaze Lust as its monthly selection. (If we were obsessed we might have gassed up the Jezebelle tour bus and cruised down to Baltimore to videotape the event.) Meanwhile, our retail spies in Chicago tell us a beautiful young woman was spotted buying a copy of KL at a local Barnes & Noble. To all the rest of the beautiful young women in the windy city: what are you waiting for?
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| Glam Date: May 3, 2000 | |
| Food: | Croutonless Caesar Salad & Pomegranate Tequila |
| Shelter: | Pangea -- the Earth Before It Divided into Continents |
| Clothing: | Silver Paper Dress and a Furry Dalmation Jacket |
If some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them, then Jezebelle L was the epitome of all three types of greatness this Thursday at the launch for her book Kamikaze Lust. Barnes & Noble/Astor Place was the location. The place was brimming with fans and literati. Jez L, dressed to the nines in a silver paper dress and matching nail polish, strutted to the mic with her knee-high black leather boots and read an excerpt about how unlucky it is for a dominatrix when a stranger tries on her thigh-high, stiletto heeled boots. Warning: never, never try on a dominatrix's boots. Jezebelle L had us captivated. Lines, lines, and did we say lines of adoring fans stood waiting for their copies of Lust to be signed by the author. She wished her fans Lust. She wished her fans Literature. And as Jezebelles, we collectively ask: Lust, literature, and glamour, isn't that what it's all about? The party continued at Tribe -- a swinging downtown bar serving only the invited many. The DJ's pumped out a mix of the 70s, 80s, 90s, and 2000! hits. The signing went on and on until, damn it, the great author's arm got so tired she had to sneak out of her own party with an acolyte or two. Rumor has it, she continued the party quietly at intimate spots around the city. Where were the other two Jezebelles? We also snuck out, and some people say they spotted more acolytes trailing not too far behind. We won't deny it -- the Kamikaze Lust launch also marked the debut of the Jezebelles' party spirits.
From The Sacred To The Profane
Friday night found us at St. Marks Church attending the gala reading and book party for The World In Us -- the brilliant new poetry anthology edited by Jezebelle E and Michael Lassell. The acoustics were hallowed, the windows stained glass. Iconography abounded. The poetry, of course, bordered on the blasphemous, as poets one by one took to the pulpit. (Some of our personal favorites included J.D. McClatchy's mamogram poem, Gerry Gomez Pearlberg's homage to sailor girls in back alleys, Regie Cabico's to Antonio Banderas in his underwear, and Eileen Myles' revelation that she is indeed a Kennedy.) In her ankle-length black dress, Jezebelle E was a gracious m.c. and by the time she capped off the evening with a sublime rendition of her poem "Talkin' Trash" some audience members dropped to their knees in prostration. Afterwards we milled about drinking Merlot trying to see how many famous poets you could stuff into one church before a brawl broke out. Alas, the crowd was too joyous and reverent so the Jezebelles and a few straggling acolytes moved across the street for a quick bite to eat before migrating uptown to La Escuelita where we saw the most fabulous, Jezebelle dress -- a pink, iridescent sequined number we wished we could have wrested from the 250-lb. drag queen who was wearing it. The pink lady commanded the stage with sass, sensuality, and high-glamour while we swiveled our hips to the thong song. We would worship at this altar anytime.
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| Glam Date: April 26, 2000 | |
| Food: | Pizza and Catfish |
| Shelter: | The Lower East Side |
| Clothing: | Sheer Top, Seamless Bra |
Last Thursday evening, we found ourselves at Bluestockings Bookstore to celebrate the launch of The World in Us, the definitive collection of LGB poetry for the 21st Century. The explosive and inspirational reading was accomplished by such literary luminaries as Cheryl Clarke, Melinda Goodman, Melanie Hope and Minnie Bruce Pratt. The evening was hosted by editrix Jezebelle E, who looked ravishing in her leopard print ensemble and also featured Jezebelle C who happens to be the youngest contributor to the anthology. The flawless event was followed by food and Jezzie merriment at a local restaurant.
The Swedish Strawberry, Jesus & Mumia
We went off on a shopping expedition last Friday to the new fashionably loud mega clothing store H&M-imported from Sweden. It was raining hard, but we were brave souls and battled the torrents for a frolic around the stacks of trendy new gear. The place was teaming. It was Good Friday, and the world and her spouse had descended to this location to buy their new Easter/Passover outfits. We gave the store a cursory go around, and Jez E remarked that it was just the Swedish version of Strawberry. "Yes," said Jez C. "Let's go to where the real bargains are." As we crossed the street we noticed Jesus standing outside of St. Patrick's cathedral. Not the biblical Jesus, but a latter-day saint -- an African American man holding his own crucifix. The Jezebelles have never been a trio to ignore a political statement--the crucifixion of innocent African American men by the police of New York City. And in the spirit of this statement, and in solidarity, we want to endorse the Rally for Mumia Abu-Jamal on Sunday May, 7th at 2pm at Madison Square Garden -- $15. For tickets and info contact: www.leftbooks.com or www.mumia2000.org.
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| Glam Date: April 19, 2000 | |
| Food: | Dozens of Nestle's Crunch Easter Eggs |
| Shelter: | Jezebelle HQ -- Downtown |
| Clothing: | Vintage Leather and a Big Nylon Umbrella |
We were interviewed last week by a reporter from a small national lifestyle magazine who was after the inside scoop on the Glam Lit experience. The reporter (let's call her scoop) started off innocently enough, asking how we decided what to read at each performance: why, whatever strikes our mood of course; how we decided what to wear: spin the Jezebelle fashion roulette wheel; what we'll do after the tour: sleep. Easy stuff. We were starting to feel comfortable until scoop asked Jezebelle E who she thought was the most glamorous of us all. Well, of course Jezebelle E with her media-savvy sensors on high saw immediately that scoop was trying to thrust us into some Spice-Girl-type controversy before we even got out on the road or started designing the Jezebelle action figures. So Jezebelle E demurred. "Have you seen our web site?" she asked, and scoop said yes she had. "Well," Jezebelle E told her. "Who do you think is the most glamorous?" Scoop didn't respond, but we will now. We're here, we're all fabulously glamorous, get used to it.
Blame Canada
Or better yet, blame a certain feminist bookstore in a certain city north of the border, when the Jezebelles show up in that city later this summer and shy away from the literary sisterhood. After trying to arrange a gig at the store in question for more than two months, practically begging them to host us, (as if they wouldn't benefit at all from the sale of our books!), they gave us a harsh thanks but no thanks the minute they heard we were reading at another bookstore in town. We didn't realize literary events had become proprietary affairs. Next time we'll try the sports bars and pool halls first.
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| Glam Date: April 12, 2000 | |
| Food: | Tamales, Fajitas, Tacos, and Black Beans |
| Shelter: | House of Diabolique |
| Clothing: | Black Boots and Gold Nail Polish |
Saturday was CD TIME for The Jezebelles. Off we trotted to the House of Diabolique to meet with Trackmaster D. What a force the man is. A man of few words, but a Don Juan with his fingers! A simple move of his mic from one Jezebelle mouth to another and he had us eating out of the palm of his hand. Jezebelle C was a vixen. She tossed and spat her words into his mic. Jezebelle L was the sultry goddess. Her words sauntered and moseyed on up to his mic. Jezebelle E was the tease. Her last syllable had Trackmaster D mopping his brow; she had him begging. You can look forward to 8 first time, never before, remixed, funked up Jezebelle dance tracks in June. Come back and visit Jezzie World and look for the Sinful Idolatress Rituals CD!
Jezzies Applaud Sleuthing Sisters
We were happy to see the Sunday New York Times covering a reading at Barnes & Noble by the Tart Noir gals, four mystery writers hawking their lusty new genre of crime fiction. Admittedly, we don't know much about crime fiction ourselves, but any women who identify as tarts and dress for a literary reading -- in vinyl and glitter no less -- deserve recognition in the Glam Lit universe. We'll be checking out their web site Tartcity.com and might even pick up one of their books very soon.
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| Glam Date: April 5, 2000 | |
| Food: | Wheatfree, Sugar Free Chocolate Chip Cookies |
| Shelter: | The Shiny East Village |
| Clothing: | Bright Red Ken Cole Sandals |
The Jezebelles Lend A Hand
On a recent Sunday night we had a blast at Toys in Babeland -- New York’s hippest, coolest sex shop on the Lower East Side. We went to the store not with shopping in mind, although we must admit it was hard to walk out of there without buying something. We went for a reading by contributors of Best Lesbian Erotica 2000, including Jezebelle L. After her literary performance, Jezebelle L auctioned off an advance copy of her novel Kamikaze Lust for $40 to raise money for FROST’D (From Our Streets With Dignity), and Jezebelle C pledged to participate in the masturbate-a-thon benefitting the same charity.
Jezebelle C Gets Star Treatment In Lewisburg, Pennsylvania
We traveled to Pa. with Jezebelle C and two other poetry stars -- Regie Cabico and Alix Olson -- for an appearance at Bucknell University sponsored by the wonderful people in the English Department and the fabulous students of FLAG (Friends of Lesbians and Gays). The trip marked a glamorous return to the slam stage for Jezebelle C, whose early retirement from the slam community caused quite a controversy at last year’s Outwrite conference. Her parting words were, "It was the best of times. It was the worst of times. But any slam that I was in was the only time. I didn’t get bigger, the slams just got smaller."
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