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The 'Whatever Happened To Baby Jane?' of the cosmetics world

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We went to see a camp extravaganza on Thursday night - Madame Rubinstein, John Misto's brand new play about the true-life rivalry between cosmetics moguls Helena Rubinstein and Elizabeth Arden, their entirely fictional face-to-face encounters as they compete with each other to create the first waterproof mascara, and their reluctant alliance as they attempt to thwart the underhand tactics of Charles Revson, founder of Revlon.

As if the premise itself weren't appealing enough, when we discovered that not one, but two of our favourite gay icons Miriam Margoyles (as Madame) and Frances Barber (as Miss Arden) were in it - it was essential that we got a ticket!

As the always amusing review site West End Whingers elucidates:
Rubinstein is portrayed as an irascible, cheapskate manipulator who waddles around weighed down by envy and bling and keeps a leg of chicken in her office safe as it saves buying a fridge. Somehow Margolyes makes her endearing. Almost.

Arden drifts in and out plotting and competing with her to find a waterproof mascara. That’s when the two aren’t volleying barbs at each other. It’s the Whatever Happened To Baby Jane? of the cosmetics world. If Barber doesn’t get to play Bette Davis one day then it’s an affront to the gay community...

...Some of the jokes are as clumsy as the between-scenes furniture-shifting but if you’re a connoisseur of high camp you’ll find enough to make you chortle.


And chortle we did, as these two mistresses of OTT acting brought the "Great Ladies of Slap" to life in all their bitchy and manipulative glory - for despite the irritatingly disjointed scene changes (far too many gaps in the "action" for my liking), they have many great waspish lines to relish.

The foil for this (almost) two-hander is Madame Rubinstein's trusted aide, originally hired to help prevent industrial espionage, the gay Irishman "Patrick" (played by Jonathan Forbes). His loyalty to the end, despite all the cruel jokes and tricks played upon him by his ogrish-yet-vulnerable patron, gave a humanity to the story that otherwise could have veered a little too close to caricature.



Despite its limitations, we thoroughly enjoyed ourselves! However, unless the production is tightened-up a bit so that the storyline flows rather than appear as a collection of vignettes, I really cannot see this production making a transfer to the West End.

But I certainly shan't be buying Revlon again...

Madame Rubinstein at The Park Theatre [currently sold out]

This weekend, I am mostly dressing casual...

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...like birthday girl Miss Alma Cogan!



Over at my "regular blog"Give 'em the old Razzle Dazzle we're celebrating the birthday of Miss Grace Jones. In complete contrast to the "Patron Saint of Fierceness", however, over here we're welcoming the "girl with the giggle in her voice" to the Museum of Camp; the little Jewish meydl from Whitechapel who rocketed to fame in the "pre-Beatles" era - and would have been 85 years old today. [It's a bit of a glut of birthdays today incidentally; also born today were Ho Chi Minh, Kemal Atatürk, Pol Pot, Malcolm X and Nancy Astor, as well the likes of Victoria Wood (RIP), Martyn Ware, Dame Nellie Melba, Pete Townsend, James Fox, David Jacobs and - erm - Yazz.]

Known for her fabulous gowns as much as her cheery songs - never appearing in the same dress twice - Alma Cogan was also renowned for her lavish parties, guests at which included some of the greatest "names" of her day including Princess Margaret, Noël Coward, Cary Grant, Audrey Hepburn, Michael Caine, Roger Moore, Frankie Vaughan, Bruce Forsyth and many more. She became one of the first UK record artists to appear frequently on television - that fledgling post-War novelty - and, despite being deemed "uncool" by the time the 60s arrived, nevertheless she allegedly had a passionate affair with John Lennon, and was a close friend of all the Beatles.

Her premature death from cancer aged just 34 shocked the nation, and to this day she is revered for the joy she brought to this country in the midst of the "austerity years" and beyond. Here, you can recapture some of her magic in this documentary from 1991:


Alma Cogan (born Alma Angela Cohen, 19th May 1932 – 26th October 1966)

Wheeeeeee!

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...we love a long Bank Holiday weekend!

A happy face on a sad world

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"Hats are a great antidote to what's going on. It's really their purpose to put a happy face on a sad world."





"That's the thing about hats. They're extravagant and full of humour and allow for a sense of costume, but in a lighthearted way."



Hats by Stephen Jones - milliner to the Royals and to the stars; friend of Boy George and John Galliano; the man who taught Philip Treacy all he knows - who celebrates his 60th birthday today.



A genius.

Stephen Jones OBE (born 31st May 1957)

A vision in Marabou

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"I shall dance all my life... I would like to die, breathless, spent, at the end of a dance."

Josephine Baker (born Freda Josephine McDonald, 3rd June 1906 – 12th April 1975)

Holy Hallucination, Batman!

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Robin: "You can’t get away from Batman that easy!"
Batman: "Easily."
Robin: "Easily."
Batman: "Good grammar is essential, Robin."
Robin: "Thank you."
Batman: "You’re welcome."

From an article by critic Zaki Hasan in The Huffington Post:
...let us cast our minds back to a time when Batman’s pop culture ubiquity came not from how dark of a knight he was, but rather the exact opposite.
For many people of my vintage and older, our first conception of who Batman was and how he operated came about almost exclusively from daily exposure to syndicated reruns of Batman, the 1966-1968 series that aired on ABC and near-singlehandedly made the term “camp” a part of our collective vernacular. Thanks to the distinctive theme song by Neal Hefti, as well as its day-glo color scheme and regular deployment of “Biff!” “Pow” “Bam!” sound effects cards, the ‘60s Batman was then and probably remains today the most literal translation of the comic book medium ever committed to the screen.... Every week, the surprisingly celibate millionaire playboy and his *ahem* “youthful ward” would answer the Batphone, then suit up in their tights as they slid down the Batpole into the Batcave on their way to the Batmobile. Ah yes, the show that launched a thousand double entendres.






And how camp it was, indeed! With a roster of villains played with extreme layers of ham - Burgess Meredith as "The Penguin", Cesar Romero as "The Joker", Frank Gorshin as "The Riddler", Julie Newmar/Eartha Kitt as "Catwoman" - sets and backdrops of eye-wateringly lurid colours, the ubiquitous labelling of everything from secret passageways to "bat shark repellent", and the "Biffs", "Pows" and "Ka-booms" that made small children (like me) scream with delight, Batman was never a series that took itself seriously, that's for certain... For example:

The Contaminated Cowl:

The Mad Hatter has escaped from prison, and is on a quest to add Batman's cowl to his collection of hats. He attends Gotham City's annual headdress ball disguised as the Three-tailed Pasha Of Panchagorum, and snatches a large ruby off of columnist Hattie Hatfield's headdress. The villain makes a getaway, but not before turning Batman's cowl pink with a radioactive spray. He trails Batman to the Atomic Energy Laboratory, knowing he will have a chance to snatch his cowl when it is removed for decontamination.
The Minstrel's Shakedown:

When Batman and Robin try to plant a bug to catch "The Minstrel" (Van Johnson), who is blackmailing the Gotham Stock Exchange, "...at first, their mic only picks up a cleaning lady whistling [a cameo (uncredited) by none other than Phyllis Diller!], then the Minstrel ambushes them with a sparkler, fancy lights, and a riff on Goodnight Ladies... They bat-climb to the top of an abandoned warehouse and into a store room full of musical instruments - and also Minstrel’s henchmen waiting in ambush. Fisticuffs ensue, and while the Dynamic Duo are initially successful, they burst into a room that two thugs ran into, only to be trapped, er, somehow off-camera. Minstrel then ties them to a spit and starts rotating and roasting them while making fun of them to the tune of Rock-a-Bye Baby.
The show's guest stars were a roll-call of campery, including...

Ethel Merman as "Lola Lasagne":


Vincent Price as "Egghead":


Joan Collins as "The Siren":


Tallulah Bankhead as "The Black Widow":


Anne Baxter as "Olga the Queen of Cossacks":


...and, of course, Liberace as "Chandell":


From The Hooded Utilitarian blog:
Liberace’s presence is not just a camp display in itself; it infects everyone and everything around it; with Chandell nearby, Bruce and Dick rushing into a closet can’t help but have a double meaning. Then there’s the scene where Dick is sitting and sighing with a high school sweetie - and suddenly he gets a call from Batman, and instantly dumps ice cream in his girl’s lap so he can talk to his true love. A crime fighter has to make sacrifices, he sighs - but his eagerness to drop that desert suggests that maybe he’s protesting too much. The message of the camping here isn’t just “Batman and Robin are gay!” Rather, it’s that heroism is a pantomime of masculinity, linked to and comparable to Liberace’s multiple pantomimes, and dependent on a deferred sensuality, in which the fetishization of women is rerouted into a fetishization of masculinity. Thus, the show suggests, it is Liberace, with his double identity, his capes, his colourful costumes, and his virtuoso mastery, who is the greatest superhero of them all.
Nevertheless, it wasn't Liberace, nor Senor Romero, nor "Commissioner Gordon", nor "Alfred the Butler", nor Eartha Kitt, nor even "The Boy Wonder" who held all this madness together - no, it was the man who played the definitive Batman (with the most spectacular example of tongue-firmly-in-cheek this side of William Shatner) who made this whole remarkable exercise really work...



RIP, Mr Adam West (born William West Anderson, 19th September 1928 – 9th June 2017)

Weekend glamour

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To celebrate his 90th birthday year, a grand exhibition of the life and work of the fabulous Hubert De Givenchy has opened just across the water in Calais.





Featuring dresses he made for such icons as Audrey Hepburn, Jacqueline Kennedy and the Duchess of Windsor, the Hubert de Givenchy exhibition will run to 31st December at the Museum of Lace and Fashion in Calais.

Arise...


It's Mid-Summer...

Conversation pieces

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"I can wear a hat or take it off, but either way it's a conversation piece." Hedda Hopper











Royal Ascot Ladies' Day 2017 was a colourful affair, as ever.

With Chelsea Flower Show a distant memory, and Henley Regatta and Wimbledon just around the corner - the Season is halfway through already.

Must grab some more Bolly, sweetie!

On the Jukebox this Weekend at Dolores Delargo Towers

The blues walked in and met me

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"My identity is very clear to me now. I am a black woman, I'm not alone, I'm free. I no longer have to be a credit, I don't have to be a symbol to anybody, I don't have to be a first to anybody. I don't have to be an imitation of a white woman that Hollywood sort of hoped I'd become. I'm me, and I'm like nobody else."

Another day, another centenary to celebrate!

Today - following in the footsteps of such luminaries as Jane Wyman, Desi Arnaz, Helen Forrest, Hans Conreid, Dame Vera Lynn, Frankie Howerd and of course, her compatriot Ella Fitzgerald - it is the turn of Miss Lena Horne...

Not content with being sidelined as a black performer and actress throughout the tumultuous and decidedly bigoted early 20th century in the USA, Miss Horne (inspired by her grandmother, who was an early member of the National Association for the Advancement of Coloured People (NAACP)) resisted the "colour bar" that threatened to block her career, and instead forged her own pioneering place in the limelight.

She was the first black woman to land a leading-lady contract in Hollywood, she refused to play to segregated audiences throughout the War and beyond, and emerged as one of America's foremost cabaret artistes and popular entertainers - eventually gaining accolades as a jazz singer. Like many of her contemporaries, she was actively involved in the civil rights movement in the 1960s, and remained a vocal supporter of equality throughout her career.

She remains one of our all-time favourite vocalists, not least for her sublime renditions of such classics as Honeysuckle Rose, I Got It Bad And That Ain't Good, Old Devil Moon and myriad others. But of course, here's her "theme song", the one for which she will always be remembered - Stormy Weather:


Lena Mary Calhoun Horne (30th June 1917 - 9th May 2010)

Yeah, you know her, check out those shoes

Living in colour

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"The mind is the limit. As long as the mind can envision the fact that you can do something, you can do it, as long as you really believe 100 percent."

"The moment you cheat for the sake of beauty, you know you're an artist."



"I prefer living in colour."

"Smoking calms me down. It's enjoyable. I don't want politicians deciding what is exciting in my life."

"Laugh a lot. It clears the lungs."

"I do do a lot of talking, because it saves me listening."


Happy 80th birthday, David Hockney, OM, CH, RA (born 9th July 1937)

Undead, undead, undead

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One of the sexiest photos ever









"Yes. I guess it's the foolish romantic in me, but you see, I don’t think that sex is my muse."

"We are artists. We must not be so dependent on others' reactions. It must always remain as a very intense, passionate and artistic experience, when one makes anything, whether it's a painting, a book or a record."

"I consider my music to be non-fashion-orientated... not restricted by the time and the fashion and the musical environment of that particular year that it was released. It has a much longer, lasting effect."

"When you’re the ‘grandfather of goth’, you have to keep at least partway in the shadows."


The beauteous and talented Mr Pete Murphy of Bauhaus is - gulp - 60 years old today!

And by way of a fitting tribute, here's possibly one of my all-time favourite video "mash-ups"...


...and, of course, that opening sequence from The Hunger:


Peter John Joseph Murphy (born 11th July 1957)

Having a Ginger day

The Magazine for Modern Young Men

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As the BBC continues its month-long celebration Gay Britannia, with plays, films, documentaries and discussions all to mark the 50th anniversary of the partial decriminalisation of male homosexuality in Britain, so the ever-marvellous John Coulthart's Feuilleton takes a look at a long-forgotten remnant of those days, the esoteric Jeremy magazine...
...a short-lived publication launched in the UK in 1969. The magazine is notable not for the quality of its contents - which seem slight considering the high cover price of six shillings - but for being the first British magazine aimed at an audience of gay men that wasn’t porn, a dating mag or a political tract. I had planned to write something about Jeremy at least two years ago... but detailed information about the magazine’s history is hard to find.

The anniversary of the change in the law has prompted a number of exhibitions and events devoted to Britain’s gay history but little of that history ever seems to travel beyond academic circles unless a notable life story - Quentin Crisp or Alan Turing, say - is involved. As with so many aspects of British culture, the conversation is dominated by America: the main campaigning organisation in the UK, Stonewall, is named after an American riot; the LGBT initialism is an American invention, as is the rainbow flag (the latter, as I’ve said before, being fine as a flag but - with its multiple colours - hopeless as a symbol). More Britons will know the name Harvey Milk than they do Edward Carpenter (1844–1929) or Allan Horsfall (1927–2012) even though Carpenter and Horsfall devoted years of their lives campaigning for gay men to be treated equally under the law in the Britain. Horsfall’s Campaign for Homosexual Equality pioneered the push for gay rights in Britain, the first official meeting taking place in Manchester in 1964. The Sexual Offences Act of 1967 seemed in later years like a poor compromise but when the alternative being offered was celibacy or the risk of a prison sentence it was a start...
..and, it would seem, an important part in this momentous history was played by Jeremy!



Read more of this fascinating article

On the Jukebox this Weekend at Dolores Delargo Towers

People's opinions don't interfere with me

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"Beyond the beauty, the sex, the titillation, the surface, there is a human being. And that has to emerge."

"People's opinions don't interfere with me. Ageing gracefully is supposed to mean trying not to hide time passing and just looking a wreck. That's what they call ageing gracefully. You know?"

"To give a character life in a short space of time, it helps if you arrive on screen with a past."

"If you get trapped in the idea that what is most important is what image of yourself you're giving to the world, you're on a dangerous path."

"I don't feel guilt. Whatever I wish to do, I do."



Adieu, Mademoiselle Jeanne Moreau (23rd January 1928 – 31st July 2017)

The Black Sheep of the Family

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Jim and I went to a most intriguing soiree at the British Library on Monday evening - part "potted history", part cabaret, and in part a "workshop" for a full-scale musical extravaganza based up on the great man's life - Fred Barnes: the Black Sheep of the Family: "all about the Victorian invert Fred Barnes and his outrageous music-hall career, brought to life by Christopher Green". Mr Green is, of course, more famous for his creation "Ida Barr" [who made a spectacular appearance at my sister Hils' wedding!].

And it was marvellous! Fred Barnes's story is of course a fabulous one - more outrageously gay than many of the late 20th century artists who supposedly "broke the mould"; he flounced and flaunted himself across the Music Hall stages more than half a a century before the likes of Liberace, Sylvester, Bowie or Boy George were even gametes. His meteoric rise and equally spectacular (and somewhat sordid) fall will make for an excellent (and long overdue) show - and, from what Chris told us, it is already mooted to be staged at Wilton's Music Hall (co-starring Roy Hudd) in 2018.



However - what of those stories of Fred's life he related to an enraptured audience? They are somewhat sketchy [mainly due to Mr Barnes' notoriety; few comprehensive biographical details were ever published], but fascinating...

From The Guardian:
[Fred Jester Barnes was] a "wavy-haired, blue-eyed Adonis", fond of pink-and-white makeup and his pet marmoset; he had been inspired to take the stage by Vesta Tilley and the original Burlington Bertie. But by 1907, he was bored. Inspired by his father, a Birmingham butcher who despaired of his theatrical son, Barnes wrote a new song, The Black Sheep of the Family, about the "queer, queer world we live in". The song had its first outing on a Monday night at the Empire; the crowd of 1,500 loved it, and Barnes - who later joked that he had written the song in a fit of pique at being repeatedly given a tricky "first turn" billing - was soon promoted to the star slot.

From British Music Hall - an Illustrated History by Richard Anthony Baker:
Fred Barnes, the original singer of Give Me The Moonlight (1917) [later made world famous by Frankie Laine] and On Mother Kelly's Doorstep (1925) [which became one of Danny La Rue's mainstays], was among the most popular entertainers of his day. But his career ended by heavy drinking and his homosexuality. Having earned thousands of pounds, he finished his days in poverty...

...It is impossible to tell how many people knew Fred was gay. [Homosexual acts were then illegal.] At first, it became known in the profession. Fred was derided for wearing more stage make-up than most and he earned himself the nickname "Freda". Quentin Crisp has recounted that, on making visits to Portsmouth as a young man, friendly sailors jokingly asked him if he knew Fred. It is probably that Fred's father knew of his predilection. Whatever the truth, Fred's store of good luck started to run out in 1913 when his father committed suicide by cutting his throat. One account speaks of Fred's father arriving with a meat axe at the stage door of a theatre Fred was playing, determined to kill him. When he was thwarted, he went home and killed himself. Fred dated his own downfall from that point, although he had many more years ahead of his as a star. In 1914, he said he had no vacant dates for three years and even had contracts booking him as far ahead as 1924.

Fred's success went to his head. He kept four cars, he employed a butler, a valet and two maids; he gambled, getting through as much as £1,500 in one night in Monte Carlo; and he began drinking. His dressing room bill sometimes totalled £30 a week. By 1922 his drinking had become a problem. He was booked to appear in Australia at a salary of £200 a week, more than he had ever earned before, but, every day, he said, he drank more than was good for him and, during the middle of his second week at the Tivoli, Melbourne, he missed a performance. The rest of the run was cancelled... Back in Britain, theatre managers soon got to know of his unreliability. In Brighton, he was taken off the bill at the Hippodrome for being drunk on stage...
However, for me the greatest revelations about Fred were his absolutely outrageous defiance of the rules and the law of the land, regardless of the consequences. QX magazine, partially quoting from Paul Bailey's book Three Queer Lives related:
Fred liked men in uniform. In 1924 The Times reported that he’d been arrested in Hyde Park for “being drunk in charge of a motorcar.” He had tried to bribe the arresting officer with £100. The paper gallantly made no mention of the half-dressed sailor seen running from the scene of the crime. Fred was sentenced to a month in prison. When he was released, he was banned from the Royal Tournament as “a menace to His Majesty’s fighting forces”...


...but, according to Chris, he continued to get back in to the Tournament, year on year - often with the help of "his boys"!

What a remarkable man Fred Barnes was. And Christopher Green is the perfect man to "bring him to life"!

Here's he is performing as Fred [at Duckie's Lady Malcolm's Servant's Ball]:


Faboo.
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