Shirley stormed onto the scene with fire-red hair, eyeliner, creamy skin, and lyrics from that time. She was perfect for the 90s, stylish, with sharp edges, and irreverent, chic, and she had swagger like the big boys with an added vulnerability that made her irresistible. For young girls, she got it. This was when Riot Grrrls came stomping onto the scene in our combat boots, delicate dresses, attitudes, creativity, punk sensibilities, and feminism. 3rd wave feminism had to happen. We needed to reclaim our bodies and agency. We needed to fight. We needed to be loud and heard, and we had opinions. Loads of them. I feel sorry for those who had never experienced the pre-911 world; it was different and expressive, unhindered by somber introspection and fear. Believe me, the 90s were fantastic.
I would sit in my room and listen to Shirley like she was my friend, and I got a real kick because the boys backed her, and it was all about her. Without Shirley, there would be no Garbage. Shirley was the anti-Spice Girl, much like me, she didn't simper and was fine if you didn't love her music. She refused to overtly sexualize herself, she refused to be controlled, and she was taking no shit from anyone. And the red lipstick. It was one of my inspirations, not Gwen; it was old Hollywood and Shirley.
It was the days of zines, DIY music, activism, and political involvement. We were young girls who gave a damn, and we were informed. My roots are here. Shirley played a role. Her middle finger was our middle finger.
It's happening right now! This is place to scream about the election; to vent, to rejoice, to grumble, then scream again. I swear, your throat will feel like sandpaper once this day is done. Have you voted yet? Are you in line? Post pictures! Is your heart skipping beats? Do you fear for the future? Of course you do! But crucially, do you have enough booze and pills to get through this? What, exactly, are you taking or drinking? We want to know. And what are you eating? Are you a sugar or salt whore? We want to know that, too. Leave those who'd rather not discuss such matters to our special Election-Free Open Post , since today, for one day only, we're gettin' real and gettin' dirty in our own gasping, shrieking, blood-soaked election post. Hold tight.
Rise up, my chickens. We're all worth fighting for. It won't be easy, it won't be fun, but through the long dark of night and on to a new day, it will surely be worth it. We don't regularly refer to politics in our Open Posts, but today, I think it's worth noting that many of us got through eight long years of Ronald Reagan - and it was a nightmare, and for many of my contemporaries, deadly. But here we are, we're still standing. We'll get through this, too, I promise. What does this mean in the short-term? Tears, fury, booze, pills, or weed, of course. You have my permission - not that you need it - to comfort yourself however you like for the rest of the week. But come Monday, all bets are off. Bitches won't even see us coming.
Are you freaking out about the election tomorrow? Me, too. Or maybe you're having a more generalized "It's Monday, oh-my-fucking-gawd" freak out? In either case, please allow Peckerwood Manor's esteemed DJ Li'l Scratch to take you away. Many of you already know about Li'l Scratch, as he regularly lays tracks at "Heavy D's," the Manor's exclusive after-hours club. Today he's spinning Teri Thornton, a vibrant, husky-voiced jazz singer and piano player who hailed from Detroit. In 1961, she exploded onto the scene with her debut LP, "Devil May Care," demonstrating show-stopping vocal prowess. The reviews were through the roof and so was the public reception, yet just as suddenly - poof - she vanished after a few more LPs, her career thwarted by market changes given the rise of rock 'n' roll. And that was that. She was all but forgotten, reduced to driving a taxi to make ends meet. But in a jaw-dropping comeback, she re
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