Red cloche from Spacesuit, Grey wool coat from Paddington Coat Factory, Red envelope clutch, Black mesh shirt, Herringbone pencil skirt from Portmans Dressmart, Red shoes with zipper heel from The Shoe Gallery @ 121 Aprirana Ave, Glen Innes.
Anyone who is comparing this outfit post to my first one might be asking themselves right now, ‘Why does she wear red all the time?’ To answer that, I need the fantastic Lola from Kinky Boots to explain while showing her extreme dissatisfaction for boring burgundy:
“Burgundy. Please, God, tell me I have not inspired something burgundy. Red. Red. RED. RED, Charlie boy. RED! Is the colour of sex! Burgundy is the colour of hot water bottles! Red is the colour of sex and fear and danger and signs that say, Do. Not. Enter. All my favourite things in life.”
Yes, red is a fantastic colour. Red gives you a sexual edge, and that's exactly what you need on a date night. I could say I was inspired by the classic cliché of sexy librarian/50s woman but to be honest I just wanted to pull off a perfect ass like Christina Hendricks (I can try, right?). Then two things I didn’t expect happened: It started bucketing down so I added my winter coat and cloche to keep out the rain, and I ran from Aotea Square to Sky City Casino in under 5mins flat (IN HEELS) so I could catch the start of the movie!
So the Bill Cunningham documentary was very insightful- I admire how he doesn’t care if you’re a billionaire or if you don’t have a cent to your name, if you are well dressed he will capture you with his camera. He has forsaken fame, money and fancy living to be a man who seeks out the eccentric, artistic individuals in a city full of cookie cutter clones and tiresome celebrities with free clothes. And of course the larger than life ‘eccentric individuals’ were interviewed as well- the entire cinema exploded with laughter when the Nepalese UN Diplomat exhibited his three piece suit with matching boots, created from his old couch and ottoman. I also came away with one great piece of advice- never accept money or gifts: if they don’t pay you they can’t pervert your artistic vision.
After a quick, cheap dinner we were back in the cinema again to watch Bill Hicks’ documentary. It’s laughable that for his first stand up gig he had to sneak out of his house and convince his high school buddies to drive him to the comedy club. And it’s sad that when he got older people would buy him drinks and bring them to the stage to see how wasted they could get him. It’s heartbreaking that even though the international audiences worshipped him and his view of the American Dream, all he really wanted was the USA to recognise him- but they either got offended or were totally clueless about his message. He hated the soulless, anti-intellectual, mediocre ‘role models’ that the USA idolised, and even up to his death in 94 he was still trying in vain to educate the masses. So what message did I come away with after that movie? Try magic mushrooms, they’re fucking mind-blowing.
I had a great night, much better than going to watch whatever Tits & Explosions blockbuster they usually have on in the cinema. It’s given me conviction that there are people out there who want to continue the work of both great Bills.
