Jacqui (jacqui) wrote,
Jacqui
jacqui

Scott's Producer Likes My Voice, Yeay, Granny's Fashion Show, and Zazu's Gotta Have It



This is last night's entry but my computer is giving me such a hard time I couldn't get this to post.

Today was a good day. I was worn out as always but I got a lot done and I'm relieved to have the hardest things over with and behind me now. I had to get up early to go over to Bed Bath and Beyond to get commercial garment racks and hangers, to hang up all of the many Peggy Hunt, Jeannette Alexander, and Jean Carol dresses from my collection, for the gals who were coming to look at them, and choose the dresses for the fashion show. Then we had to go over to Mom's and start hanging up and sorting through the hundreds and hundreds of dresses of my Mother's and Grandmother's that I've been collecting for the last six or more years. It was a lot of work, a lot, but it was great to see them all hanging up and sorted out.

The two gals from the Art Deco Society, who came over today, were adorable and I loved both of them instantly -- something I never expected. I thought I'd be intimidated or shy, but I just dug them right off. Annamarie had the coolest hair. It's dyed the wildest shade of yellow and she's cute and only wears vintage clothes. Sadly I don't have a link to her website or I'd throw it up here for you. She designs reproductions of vintage clothes from the 1910's through the 1950's. She got married recently and had her book of proofs from her wedding and showed them to us. They got married in Prague at this castle, her husband is a serious babe, and she looked soooo pretty and super high fashion in her self designed fiery red dress and coat.

The other gal who came is Margot -- love that name -- and there was just something about her that made me love her right off. She seemed sad, hurting, and I just wanted to mother her. Turns out her complete asshole of a partner just recently broke up with her. I don't think she'd want me to share all of the details, I mean, I don't know her well enough to know how she'd feel about this, and she doesn't know me well enough to know that everything about my life gets logged in here, so until I get permission from her I'll just say that I'd like to smack the guy. It just made me sad for her, to hear her describing what she's been through. Someone please remind me to call her on Valentine's Day to help cheer her up. I wish I had enough money and time to send a gift to everyone here on my friend's list who is going to be lonely and/or pissed off on Valentine's Day. I have to remember how very lucky I am to not have to be alone on this very commercial, you-must-be-romantic-today, holiday.

We kind of went through the dresses and tried to come up with ideas for how to categorize them, in order to break them up for the show. Annamarie's idea was to narrow the collection down to the best pieces in order to be able to present them in eight groups of ten. We tried to brainstorm ideas, seasons, resort, gowns, Mom's dresses, Granny's, their earliest label, and then I thought we might do better if we involved my Mom so I took the gals into the dining room, which is where my Mom spends most of her time, and we all sat down at the table and she helped Annamarie come up with the categories.

For as much complaining as she had been doing about having to put up with having all of these dresses in her living room, and all of the mean little digs she kept trying to zing at me, I think that maybe there was a little girl part of her, or a wise mature Mom woman, who understood and appreciated all of the effort that I've put into this. Of course it doesn't help when I say, "I really hope Rosa doesn't steal any of these dresses," and she says, "I wish she would," or "I hope she will." When I asked her to be positive and friendly to the women, for my sake, she said, "You mean you don't want me to tell them what a complete waste of money this is and how upset I am with my spendthrift daughter for throwing away scads of money on these old dresses?"  But that's her sense of humour. I think she kind of got it, that I'm doing this out of love for her and for my Grandmother, who I didn't fully appreciate while she was alive. Today, for the first time since I began this obsessive quest for acquiring as many examples of her dresses as I can lay my hands on, it occurred to me that maybe I've been doing all of this as a way to make amends for having been a selfish, careless, teenager towards my Granny when she lived with us.

Mom hated my hair, and of course she hated Annamarie's hair, that I thought was super cool and edgy, but she was able to look past her conservative judgments and wound up liking the gals. She couldn't, however, get over her extreme prejudice, prejudice that borders on hostility, towards Esther's weight. She really ripped into Esther when she was talking about her on the phone to me tonight and it hurt to listen to her going on about it. You know, I don't even see Esther's weight, I just see Esther. I feel sorry for her because it wasn't long ago that I was right there with her and I know how hard it is to be that overweight -- how hard it is to get around -- and how mean people can be to you.

Of course Mom got in some digs on my saggy, post-weight-loss-surgery belly. Pointing at me and making her disgusted wincey face she said, "Oh my God Jacqui, we have got to do something about that. You need to get right on that!" When I reminded her that she had said she wouldn't free up any funds for the body and breast lift, that I want to have but am dreading, until I lose another fifty pounds, she stopped commenting on my body and went back to picking on my hair. I know this all sounds awful, and for so many years I let these kinds of things really upset me, and I don't know if it's that I've become more mature, developed a thicker skin, or am so doped up on antidepressants that I just can't be bothered to feel anymore, but I like that I can just shrug it off and kind of laugh about it. I feel so sorry for my Mom; the way she can hardly get around, the helpless way she acts, the little girl expressions on her face, the pain she's in, that there really isn't room for hurt or anger anymore, mostly I just feel gratitude and love, and a sad panicked sense that I am running out of time.

One of the best things that happened today was when Scott told me that during his session with his producer this morning, he enjoyed watching Marc listening to and appreciating my voice. Thank you God! He said that Marc said he couldn't get over how much I sound like Maggie Roche, and he's a huge Roches fan, (me too), so this is a major compliment from him. I'm working on remembering the positive things that Scott tells me about myself, because it's obvious that I focus too much on the negative, so I'm trying to focus on this. I'm so glad I braved going in there and made myself sing for them when I was sooooo afraid of being hurt because I felt so unappreciated and unseen. Thank you again for all of your support in doing this.

Poor Zazu, she's in heat and wandering around looking for a quickie. We need to get her fixed, but she's never really been well enough. We don't have any intact males around and she's been so sick lately that it just doesn't make sense to put her through that if she isn't even going to be with us for much longer. But with my constant nursing and care, and everyone else's constant care, and all of your prayers and good thoughts, she's rebounding and has suddenly gone into heat.

She looks so desperately horny walking around putting her bottom in everyone's face, (mine included), calling out in that obvious, I-Neeeeed-It-Right-Now, yowl. The funny thing is that the only person, (I call animals people because I think we're all equal, well, some of us are), who is responding to all of this sexual longing is Curly Girl. I saw someone doing the march-march-cat-Fuck-back-dance out of the corner of my eye and thought, "Oh Good, someone is going to help out poor Zazu," and had the biggest laugh when I realized it wasn't one of the boys but little Curly Girl. There she is straddling Zazu, biting her neck, marching back and forth. Leave it to a woman to know what another gal needs. Sadly, she's missing that all important piece of anatomy, that for Zazu, is a pretty crucial element in satisfying her needs right now. Too bad they don't make tiny little cat vibrators ; )

Okay me go...

Big loving hugs,
Wacqui


I think this card is so pretty, I wish I could have bought it but it was already way up there when I saw it.

PS: Two naughty naked vintage pics here for your viewing pleasure.



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