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.
While we Americans like to think of Canadians as polite, well-mannered citizens, they turn positively feral at the sight of Trump, as evidenced by a Trump punching bag which a group of ordinarily gracious Vancouver moose heads (allegedly!) were only to happy to punch, pummel and viciously kick. C’est tiguidou, cheri. C'est le fun. To which I say, we understand, eh-sayers, we understand. After all, we can't even escape our hell-hole of a country these days. Calisse, right? And though sane 'Muricans won big in the recent election, causing much amusing uproar , we ain't out of the woods yet . The stupid rich are still getting stupid rich , and it could all blow up before you know it. Chalice de Crisse! So keep punching and kicking, mon amis . We're hanging on by a thread here, and hoping that all won't be forgotten come the midterms in 2026. Because, tabarnak , that would be tres-tres hellacious, no?
Welcome, music prostitots, to another edition of Manor Music Monday, today with a li'l bump, a li'l grind, and lots of razzmatazz. And yes, our songstress of the day has a gimmick, because, as you might know, you gotta get a gimmick. Those last four words were probably enough to cause all of you Broadway Babies out there to squeal with happiness - and for good reason. But this ain't no Broadway post, bub. It's about the Real McCoy, as they say, or the genu-wine article. Tonight, DJ Li'l Scratch will be playing all of her hot-cha! songs at the Manor's "Tuna Pole!" lounge and Shirako dinette. Yes, i t's times like these that call for Gypsy, don't you think? No, not the movie or stage Gypsy. I'm talking about the actual person. Yes, it's true, there really was a burlesque queen named Gypsy. I know, right? It's like finding out the tooth-fairy is real. And yes, she and her audience frequently had to make a mad dash for the streets when...
Sarah Paulson sported this two-piece look to the Brazilian premiere of "All's Fair." It was designed by Pierpeolo Piccioli for Balenciaga SS26. It wasn't exactly a great night for fashion, as Kim K rolled up in this pastel monstrosity and Naomi Watts looked immensely uncomfortable in stripes. Awful fashion for an awful show, how fitting! Sources: Desi/Backgrid, Getty Images for Disney+
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