So, I was thinking...
I wanted to come up with some "content" for my "content craving" fan-base (whoever you are). Something I could just post quickly, that wasn't too involved, or required "research." That might make you smile or laugh; and let's face it: in these troubled times, we need all the mirth we can get. So I thought: "How about a ridiculous advice column"? I already did one blog, based on Diana Vreeland and her absurd column from way back in the day: Why Don't You...? -wherein she dispensed mostly unsolicited "advice" to her well-heeled readers. Things along the lines of, uses for flat champagne, and so forth. But, Diana already did that. So, I wanted to create a character based on Ms. Vreeland, that wasn't actually Ms. Vreeland. The above sketch is a prototype. She looks a little too much like the puppet "Madam." 'Memba her? And if she's going to make an appearance in every one of these columns, I wanted to streamline the process of drawing her. Kind of like the "Femlin" from Playboy magazine, except with pearls. And a big schnozz.
I wanted to come up with some "content" for my "content craving" fan-base (whoever you are). Something I could just post quickly, that wasn't too involved, or required "research." That might make you smile or laugh; and let's face it: in these troubled times, we need all the mirth we can get. So I thought: "How about a ridiculous advice column"? I already did one blog, based on Diana Vreeland and her absurd column from way back in the day: Why Don't You...? -wherein she dispensed mostly unsolicited "advice" to her well-heeled readers. Things along the lines of, uses for flat champagne, and so forth. But, Diana already did that. So, I wanted to create a character based on Ms. Vreeland, that wasn't actually Ms. Vreeland. The above sketch is a prototype. She looks a little too much like the puppet "Madam." 'Memba her? And if she's going to make an appearance in every one of these columns, I wanted to streamline the process of drawing her. Kind of like the "Femlin" from Playboy magazine, except with pearls. And a big schnozz.
So, if and when we ever think of the "Femlin," what do we think? Do we think she's an antiquated, objectified stereotype? A Male Gaze fantasy from the days of pipe smoking and three-martini lunches? Or do we think she's, perhaps, one of the first, truly liberated depictions of a modern, sexually self-possessed woman? I mean, she was one of the first depictions of the female form to unabashedly display pubic hair. A full-on, old-school, golden triangle (although it was jet black). And she wasn't coy about it.
Can we connect the dots from the Femlin to Barbie? I think we can. Did you know Barbie was based on a German doll, marketed to men called "Bild Lilli"?
Can we connect the dots from the Femlin to Barbie? I think we can. Did you know Barbie was based on a German doll, marketed to men called "Bild Lilli"?
I don't know a whole lot about "Bild Lilli" and her history; but in a nutshell, she was a character that ran in a German tabloid aimed at men. Apparently she was featured in single panel strips where she got sassy with controlling men and further apparently, she was some kind of sex worker. A call girl? A doll for men was created; a play-thing if there ever was one. But Lilli was her own gal.
Ruth Handler of Mattel saw her in a tobacco store on a trip to Germany and the rest is history. I see almost no difference between Lilli and Barbie except perhaps a lot less rouge on Barbie. And speaking of rouge, you couldn't find more rouge on a less objectified woman than Diana Vreeland.
Ruth Handler of Mattel saw her in a tobacco store on a trip to Germany and the rest is history. I see almost no difference between Lilli and Barbie except perhaps a lot less rouge on Barbie. And speaking of rouge, you couldn't find more rouge on a less objectified woman than Diana Vreeland.
She would wear great swaths of it. It became her trademark. That and her obsidian colored hair. There's a story that one time she was on a plane and the stewardess leaned down and said, "Oh, here honey, let me help you with that..." and she proceeded to try and blend DV's rouge; apparently missing the point that the overstatement was the statement.
You never know what's going to inspire you. Case in point...
One fine day, back in the 80's, my friend Kelly worked at a kiosk in Faneuil Hall in Boston. Actually, she worked at several kiosks, at different times. One of them sold Lucite gifts that could be engraved. Do you recall "Lucite"? For a while there, it was a thing. Everyone and their brother had something made out of Lucite by the end of the Big Go! (TM/Reg. Pat-Pend) decade. So on one birthday, perhaps my 17th or 18th, I received a Lucite key chain. I so wish I could remember the name of that kiosk/push-cart. There was another one called "Nature's Jewelers" that specialized in stuff like leaves, dipped into gold and made into earrings.
But back to the keychain. So, Kelly, who for some reason got it into her head that I was not especially well-endowed, gifted me with this Lucite keychain that was engraved: C-"Pee-Wee"-R. The "C" and "R," of course, being my initials. The Pee-Wee reference, obviously, to the size of my Johnson, which she had (to the best of my knowledge), never seen. I think this is somehow connected to the movie Porky's. I recall opening this gift and having to inquire as to its meaning. Finding this the height of hilarity, she explained. One person there, who in fact had first hand knowledge of said Johnson, attempted to disabuse her of this notion. As for myself, I was, shall we say, bemused. That is, if "bemused" means to be simultaneously "confused" and "amused." Which, in my mind, it does. I did find it rather comical that she would have the...oh, I don't know...words fail me...the gumption, perhaps to present this gift? It would be akin to me giving her a training bra as a birthday gift. But I'm extremely easy going. I mean, was she trying to get under my skin? She was jealous of my relationship with the above mentioned person with the first hand knowledge. I just found it, curious. I mean, I have never been particularly concerned with either my penis size or my height. They are both absolutely on point average. They have always worked for me, without fail; despite this world of Napoleon complexes and size Queens. It's kind of the Goldilock's take: this one is just right!
You never know what's going to inspire you. Case in point...
One fine day, back in the 80's, my friend Kelly worked at a kiosk in Faneuil Hall in Boston. Actually, she worked at several kiosks, at different times. One of them sold Lucite gifts that could be engraved. Do you recall "Lucite"? For a while there, it was a thing. Everyone and their brother had something made out of Lucite by the end of the Big Go! (TM/Reg. Pat-Pend) decade. So on one birthday, perhaps my 17th or 18th, I received a Lucite key chain. I so wish I could remember the name of that kiosk/push-cart. There was another one called "Nature's Jewelers" that specialized in stuff like leaves, dipped into gold and made into earrings.
But back to the keychain. So, Kelly, who for some reason got it into her head that I was not especially well-endowed, gifted me with this Lucite keychain that was engraved: C-"Pee-Wee"-R. The "C" and "R," of course, being my initials. The Pee-Wee reference, obviously, to the size of my Johnson, which she had (to the best of my knowledge), never seen. I think this is somehow connected to the movie Porky's. I recall opening this gift and having to inquire as to its meaning. Finding this the height of hilarity, she explained. One person there, who in fact had first hand knowledge of said Johnson, attempted to disabuse her of this notion. As for myself, I was, shall we say, bemused. That is, if "bemused" means to be simultaneously "confused" and "amused." Which, in my mind, it does. I did find it rather comical that she would have the...oh, I don't know...words fail me...the gumption, perhaps to present this gift? It would be akin to me giving her a training bra as a birthday gift. But I'm extremely easy going. I mean, was she trying to get under my skin? She was jealous of my relationship with the above mentioned person with the first hand knowledge. I just found it, curious. I mean, I have never been particularly concerned with either my penis size or my height. They are both absolutely on point average. They have always worked for me, without fail; despite this world of Napoleon complexes and size Queens. It's kind of the Goldilock's take: this one is just right!
It's funny. I hung(!) on to that key chain for a long time. I never put keys on it; or used it for anything. I put it in a box with a bunch of other mementos and it sat up in my parent's attic for decades. I don't know where it is now; but oddly, I hope it turns up.
This is all a really long way of saying that I want to use the initials C.P.W.(R) as a name for my facsimile Diana Vreeland/Femlin/Dear Abby figure. I think her name will be Christina Parker-Whiffington. Works for me! So look for some great advice from C.P. Whiffington in future blogs!
I think we're getting closer to our sprite/muse with the following:
This is all a really long way of saying that I want to use the initials C.P.W.(R) as a name for my facsimile Diana Vreeland/Femlin/Dear Abby figure. I think her name will be Christina Parker-Whiffington. Works for me! So look for some great advice from C.P. Whiffington in future blogs!
I think we're getting closer to our sprite/muse with the following:
Be on the lookout for the inaugural installment of If I Were You...
Ciao!
Chris
CFR 12/10/23
Ciao!
Chris
CFR 12/10/23