You don’t know me but you should totally book me!

--> The general quality of cold-email booking requests doesn't seem to have improved a hell of a lot over the past decade … although the volume of them sure has increased exponentially. I should know: years ago I wrote some of the most truly unforgivable ones myself and since then, in various production capacities, I’ve been receiving them almost daily.

Contemporary primary education barely teaches Look Where You’re Walking, You Idiot; so it’s little wonder that How To Correspond In A Professional Capacity With Strangers has gone almost completely by the wayside. In an effort, then, towards remedy:

How To Write A Cold Email Requesting A Performance Booking That Won’t Make The Recipient Want To Stab You In The Neck

Some Dos & Don’ts and a couple of Do Nots for variety:

• DO include a salutation, preferably one addressed to the specific person who will open the email.

If a complete stranger walked up to you with absolutely no preamble or introduction whatsoever and said “I’m a nurse and I want to work in your hospital,” your reaction might be a blank stare, or maybe some sort of spit-take depending on your proximity to beverages.* And yet about half of the booking emails I have ever received began just like that: “I’m a performer and I want to perform in your show.”

Not “Hi there.” Not “Hello” or “Howdy” or even “Hey.” Just “I want to be booked in your show.”

Take a moment to consider your cold email as that actual, in-person conversation-with-a-stranger. If your very first words make you sound like a self-centered nine-year-old, you’re not starting off on a spectacular note. This is a business email: so sixteen opening paragraphs of Glitterfabulousunicornssparkleglamourkisskisskiss! is a waste of everyone’s time; but taking the zero-point-no-seconds necessary to type “Hello” first goes a long way towards indicating that you’re an actual human being with an interest in other people and an ability to interact in society.

Now consider how spectacularly professional, prepared and totally together you’ll seem if you take only-slightly-more-time, attempt to find out the name of the person booking the show, and address the email to her. This not only implies that you know how to use Google, but demonstrates that you’ve actually researched the show and you understand what it is you’re asking to be hired for, rather than blanket-emailing every show within a 20-mile radius.

• Even though this is a copy-and-paste email that you’re blanket-emailing to every show within a 20-mile radius – and we all know it is, so don’t let’s pretend otherwise – DO obsessively check a dozen times that you’ve changed all necessary names and titles.

Even if the email opens with the immaculately-researched “Dear Ms. Canasta,  I’m writing to ask about a possible booking for Sweet & Nasty,” ** if three paragraphs later it says “Thanks so much, Emil, for considering me for the Whoops-A-Doggie Revue***,” it’s going right in the trash folder.

• DO mention personal connections; DO NOT imply recommendations without permission.

If Sarah Stripper explicitly says to you “Oh, sure, tell Petunia Producer that I recommended you for her show,” then by all means write to Petunia Producer, “I worked with Sarah Stripper recently and she suggested I drop you a line to ask about performing in the Petunia Producer Follies.”*** In contrast, “I worked with Sarah Stripper recently, she’s awesome. I’d like to be booked for your show” is disingenuous at best, transparent at worst.

• DO be friendly. DON’T be juvenile.

The Dickensian days of “Dear Sir or Madam, I am writing to enquire as to the opportunities for ecdysiastical employment within the framework of your productionary endeavours” are dead and gone. But if you’re old enough to strip you’re old enough to know that OMGPON1EZ!!! is not an acceptable closing to a business letter.

• DO be specific in your request - and DO remember that it’s a request, NOT a demand.

Are you looking for a booking in a particular production, or do you just want to work with that producer any time she might have a spot open? Are you only going to be in her town on certain days? Do you have a ‘special skill’ (fire, aerial) that her venue is perfect for? Then say that. “I’m a new performer and I’d like to introduce myself to you” is fine in person but what the hell is a producer supposed to do with that email beyond “Um, okay … nice to meet you”?

Let’s talk for a minute here about language and tone of voice. It is important in life to know what you want … but perhaps “want” is not always the word to use when trying to achieve it. Simpering and saccharine airheadedness are completely unnecessary and equally offputting, but consider: 

“I’d like to work with you” VS “I want to be in your show” 

“I’m writing about potential bookings” VS “I’m writing because I want to be booked” 

“I have an act that might fit in well with your theme” VS “My act will be great in your show”

Read it out loud before you hit send. Does this sound like a polite, friendly, professional and reasonable conversation, or a crystal-smashing, tantrum-throwing, me-me-me screaming diva fit? I’ve gotten a few doozies that sounded positively psychotic … which definitely affected how quickly I didn’t rush to never reply.

• DO your research. Know the show you’re asking to be booked for.

Currently, I cast one production. It is a reading series. Granted, the degree of nudity that is an integral part of this ongoing production**** means that many of the performers have some striptease experience as well; but the show itself is, simply, a reading series. We read, naked, out loud. That is all.

About half of the booking emails I receive – even the ones that get the name of the show right – do not say a single word about “reading.” They say “strip” or they say “dance;” they include extensive and detailed descriptions of burlesque routines and striptease numbers – many with video links – but nowhere do they say “and I’d also love to read naked out loud in your show.”

I assume when I receive these emails that the senders either lack the ability to use Google, or do not in fact know how to read.

• DO send links; DO NOT send attachments.

Seriously. It’s 2014. How does everyone not know this by now?

• DO briefly describe your style, aesthetic, or special skills; DO NOT send a cutesy fake character bio, a fourteen-page-long history of every non-performance job you’ve ever had, or a string of meaningless hyperbole.

Yes: “I perform classic striptease to a wide variety of contemporary music, often incorporating into my acts my 15 years of en pointe training.”

No no no dear god no: “Found in a box under a pool table in Las Vegas, I was raised by rock n’ roll werewolves who taught me my love of the open road and the secrets of magical transformation that make my performances a mind-blowing spectacle of dark beauty that have transfixed the world - and beyond! After a thousand and one nights dancing my tales before the desert courts of the foreign sands, I strapped my surfboard to my rocketship and made my way here to Springfield, where my unique blend of Dita Von Teese and Bettie Page is taking the burlesque scene by storm.”

• DO NOT include a page-long description of every act you do. Don’t include a one sentence description of every act you do.  Don’t describe all the acts you do.

If you’re looking to get a specific act booked in a specific show a brief description is in order. (“I have a John Hancock-lap-dancing-the-Constitution act that I think would be a great fit in your Founding Fathers show.”)  Otherwise, a concise explanation of your unique style (see above) and a link to your videos page is enough. If a producer wants more information about specific acts, she’ll ask for it.

• DO be honest about your experience - or lack of it.

Any producer with ten minutes’ experience of her own knows instantly when a new or less-seasoned strippeur is stretching the limits of credulity with a padded-out performance resumé: presenting every single performance with a particular show as a separate item, for example, or listing workshops or class recitals as ‘bookings.’ The honesty of “I’ve performed here in Springfield in the Stripper University Graduate Showcase at Café Fabulous, with Bras Be Damned! at The Music Box, and several times with Petunia Producer’s Follies” is perfectly legitimate; “I have many performance credits throughout Springfield and beyond, including: Café Fabulous (November 2013); Petunia Producer’s Follies (November 2013), The Music Box (December 2013), Petunia Producer’s Follies (December 2013), Bras Be Damned! (December 2013) and Petunia Producer’s Follies (January 2014)” is frankly insulting.

Two more things:

“Interstate” is not the same as “international.”

And if you lie about your performance experience, you will be found out. I once got a booking email from a complete and total stranger who had my own show listed on her resumé.

• DO be reasonable, professional and polite.

Polite, reasonable professionals do not write in cold emails things like:

• “I want to be booked for a weekly spot in your show.”
• “Our fifteen-person troupe will be in town, can you book our group number and also have us all do solos?”
• “So what’s the deal to be in your show?”
• “Can you teach me an act I can do in your next show?”
• “I guess we haven’t met but it’s still weird that you haven’t booked me yet.”
• “I’ve never been to your show but I really like the vibe of your photos! I want to perform with you!”
• “I’m going be taking a class soon so I’d like to arrange now to be in your show after that.”

And yet I’ve actually gotten all of these, and many many more.

Not to harsh your fabulous showgirl mellow, but you’re writing to a stranger, asking for a job. Just because that job involves boobs and feathers doesn’t mean you can’t be professional and fabulous at the same time.

(This, by the way, is quite fantastic and well worth a quick read.)

* If, for instance, it were me, said proximity would likely be close; said beverages would be whiskey, neat; and – because I think they’re really funny - the probability of spit-takes would be damn near 100%.

** Defunct. Dead. Buried. (Seriously. We had a funeral and everything.) Please do not ask to be booked for Sweet & Nasty, as I actually will book you but you will be the only one in the show and I will be the only one in the audience and that’s gonna get creepy but quick.

*** Hands off the name, bitches, I thought of it first.

**** i.e., High.

Desert Island Strips: Dangrrr Doll

--> “If you were to be cast away on a desert island ... which three striptease numbers, one burlesque performer, and single act of your own would you bring along to keep yourself sane and entertained?”

Desert Island Strips: Episode 01 

The first castaway to the island is striptease performer and costumier Dangrrr Doll, interviewed on January 4^th, 2014 in New York City.

DOWNLOAD to iTUNES NOW

or listen to the podcast here:


•••
Stalker's Paradise:

Dangrrr Doll on Twitter, Instagram, Tumblr
Dangrrrous Designs
RAWR Burlesque

Ray Gunn: Jabberwocky
Imogen Kelly: BHoF Farewell Performance
Stormy Leather
Albert Cadabra

Ask The Experts: Alfred Bennett

--> “In 1868 a burlesque, The Merry Zingara, by W.S. Gilbert – a skit on The Bohemian – was produced at the Royalty with a bevy of attractive girls – there were pretty girls in every burlesque but they had to be clever ones as well, not merely manikins …

Burlesques were parodies on plays or stories, written in ten-syllable rhymed lines which, in harmony with the accepted wit of the day, abounded in puns and whimsicalities and were interspersed with songs, choruses and dances borrowed from opera, music-hall or other sources. The music was never original. The hero was always a girl, and there was often a female character depicted by a man, in which respects the wont and usage of pantomime were closely followed …

Incongruities were frequent in burlesque and puns were sometimes more than verbal. For instance, in Burnand’s Paris, Orion was got up as an Irishman with knee-breeches and shillelagh, spoke with a brogue and was called O’Ryan – “the only Irish constellation in the skies.” Topical allusions likewise abounded …

A few specimen lines will show at what our fathers deigned to laugh in their hours of ease. This excerpt from Paris was rendered funny by the makeup and delivery of the speaker, a man in female disguise:

            “Last night he smiles on me, my husband do,

            And says ‘I’m going out.’ Says I, ‘Where to?’

            Says he, which ain’t polite, ‘What’s that to you?’

            ‘Nothing to me,’ I says, ‘I only ask;

            Of course, if ‘ollow ‘arts will wear a mask,

            Then, as the poet says, the time will be

            When, hubby darling, you’ll remember me.’”

… A verse from a set called “What’s a burlesque?” contributed by W.S. Gilbert to one of the magazines, may perhaps fitly wind up this sketch of a by-gone amusement:

            “Pretty princess – beautiful dress:

            Exquisite eyes – wonderful size:

            Dear little dress (couldn’t be less)

            Story confused – frequently used:

            Sillified pun – clumsily done.

                        Dresses grotesque.

                        Girls statuesque.

                        Scene picturesque –

                        That’s a burlesque!” ”

--Alfred Rosling Bennett, London & Londoners In The 1850’s & 1860’s (1924)

2013: A Look Behind

--> Remember: Our job is terribly profound and meaningful and not at all silly or frivolous and it is vitally important to take every aspect of it very very seriously at all times.

2014 ain't gonna grab itself by the balls, people. Let's get on this thing.

MEMO: Pls call to resched. your appt w/Human Resources Dept.

--> 2013 Year-End Performance Review: Self-Evaluation

(With thanks to the several naff business-form-online sites that provided inspiration and/or wording.)

This Self Evaluation form is an opportunity for you to provide input into your Performance Review Process.* The form assists you in focusing on specific aspects of your job performance, including your unique strengths, talent and development focus for the future.

The good news is that as an independent performer or producer (or kitten, or costumer, or whatever the hell you are) you will not be required to show up to some dreary fluorescent-lit corporate hell-hole at 7 a.m. so an MBA fifteen years your junior can mouth businessspeak at you off of a checklist while you try desperately not to swear or say “boobs.” Rather, your personal Performance Review Process can be conducted naked in your living room with a bottle of wine in one hand and a different bottle of wine in the other - what’s important is that you take a moment for a little quiet professional and artistic reflection, as the year draws to a close (why not).

To that end, I invite you to use the following form as a starting point; not to share with anyone or the general public (unless you want to), not to obsess over and spend hours crafting essay-answers for (again, unless that’s your jam), but simply to help start the process of taking stock of your past year, professionally and artistically, and looking forward to the next.

And if I did the internet right, you can even print it out. If that kind of thing turns you on.

* Well, actually, no, it is the opportunity for your Performance Review Process. Being as we are in the relatively unique situation of a completely unregulated and non-hierarchical industry where any sort of professional criticism or feedback from peers, employers or consumers of our product (other than the frankly useless "OMG you are the gratest sooooooo pretty! Luv youuuuuuuuu!!!!") is highly likely to be automatically received as persecution, the only actual Performance Review Process in which any of us will participate has got to be self-initiated. 

And honestly attempted, too. Most of us fall to one absurd and unrealistic side or the other of “Well obviously the reason I don’t get booked is because no one can deal with how perfect and amazing I am and they should all go swallow glitter and die,” and “Well obviously the reason I don’t get booked is because I’m worthless and hideous and I should go swallow glitter and die.” Objectivity is difficult to maintain for us sensitive artist-types: I hear a lot of self-deprecating or frankly libelous reasons-why-I-don’t-get-booked (many of them, I am not happy to say, coming out of my own mouth) but very few honest-assessments-of-my-own-skill-level, pragmatic-understanding-of-my-uniqueness-and-marketability, or what-I-have-actually-done-to-get-that-job-beyond-“deserving”-it-and-waiting-for-it-to-come-to-me. 

About six months after I started performing I got a regular Saturday gig, go-go dancing from 1 to 3 a.m. at a venue that also happened to be the home of one of the only regular, highly-regarded burlesque shows in the city. One night I asked the booking manager when he was going to hire me for that show. Without malice, he replied “When you’re good enough.” I’m sure I looked as nonplussed as I felt, because he then explained: “Listen, you’ve been getting better but you’re still really new. Right now I couldn’t put you onstage next to Julie or Amber, but when you’re good enough, I will.”** 

I cannot imagine this conversation taking place today without the immediate indignant FaceTube post that Everyone DESERVES to get booked in EVERY SINGLE SHOW and no producer or booker should think that ANY PERSON is more experienced or skilled or that their particular style is more appropriate for a particular show than ANYONE ELSE and that guy deserves to be KILLED. 

Well okay, then. Until the format exists within a professional context for skilled, thoughtful feedback to be both given and received, *** it is up to us as individuals, and as working artists, to occasionally take stock of our work and our selves - as honestly and as dispassionately as possible, and without straying either into the Swamp of Self-Loathing or the Desert of Divadom. **** Because self-awareness is an invaluable thing: it can help us avoid everything from particularly unflattering styles of underwear to murderous depressive rage every time a show is announced that we’re not in. And most importantly, like a big giant multi-vitamin for the soul, it’s essential for healthy artistic growth.

 •••••

 SELF-EVALUATION FORM 
To be completed without pants.

• What is your job title?
Why do you use this title in particular? What does it say about what you do and about how you do it? 

• Why are you doing this? Why are you doing this? What do you specifically contribute to your artform & profession that is unique or innovative? 

• What are you the most terrified to do, artistically speaking?

Have you ever done it?

• What is your greatest strength?
What do you do to capitalize on this strength?

• What is your greatest weakness?
What do you do to minimize the negative effects of this weakness?

• What single accomplishment, event or product from this past year are you most pleased with or proud of?

• What single event, action or product from this past year are you least pleased with or embarrassed by?

• What skill or talent would you like to add to your resumé?

Could you realistically learn or acquire this skill? If so, are you willing to expend the time and/or money that that would require?

• In the past year how (if at all) were you Part Of The Problem?
How were you Part Of The Solution?

• What is a single, achievable goal for the upcoming year?
What specific actions can you take to achieve this goal?

• What is one magic-wish, fairy-tale, genie-in-a-bottle totally-absurd-dream goal?
What’s one specific action you could actually take, now, in the actual real world to begin to achieve this goal? 

• How did this past year differ from your expectations?

• Where do you see yourself at the end of 2014? 

 •••••

** I am proud to say that eventually, I was, and eventually, he did.
*** I do not, I freely admit, know what that format ought best to be; nor do I have any interest in being the sole motivator or administrator of it so don’t ask, thank you.

**** Ugh, sorry about that.

A Thanksgiving Thought Of Sorts

--> One of the few perks of being a performer means never having to watch shows from the house. It's not just that I am totally incapable of not starting fights with audience douchebags who don't grasp the simple fact that because sound travels through space everyone around them can hear the vile and asinine things they're saying about the performers ... But ever since my first shows in the back rooms of East Village bars where the only place to watch the other performances was sort of squatting next to over where the curtain was taped to the wall, trying not to get stepped on by the host's 7-inch stilettos, hit by the bathroom door, or whacked in the wig by the occasional out-of-control shimmy belt, I have preferred our unique view-from-the-side-of-the-stage. The paying audience misses so many of my favorite parts of shows: the rainstick rattle of beaded fringe; the wordless conversations between stage and wings; the amazing focus of the most wonderfully engaged performers even when their faces are hidden or their backs are turned. 

Customers always ask if they can come backstage - imagining I suppose lightbulb-bordered dressing tables, headdress-clad dancers ballet-stretching in rooms full of the cheerful clutter of diamonds and feathers, the champagne-fueled wild debauchery of kissing-practice-pillow-fights. I suppose they don't need to actually experience the reality of six performers in a 10-foot-square unheated single-stall bathroom with one exposed bulb, all trying to put on makeup in half a stained mirror while the waitstaff walks through to the kitchen.

It's a small but delightful compensation that the view from there, anyway, is all our own.

Backstage from Nasty Canasta on Vimeo.

Dollar Store Showgirl

--> Is there any part of this country yet left untouched by the magic of the dollar store? Be it the national Dollar Tree chain, the Crazy Dollar Daze! aisle of your local Legitimate Shopping Concern, or (my personal favorite) the random-mix-of-objects-involving-a-stunning-variety-of-languages-on-the-labels emporia that make up fully 89% of all retail establishments here in Brooklyn, these off-price-wonderlands are truly the costumer’s best friend.
  
Falling firmly as I do on the “It only has to look expensive” side of the fancy-ass-stripper debate,* I make frequent use of the dollar stores in my local habitat when crafting even the most classic costumes. Not to say that I don’t haunt the Garment District like a colorblind, bling-obsessed ghoul; but there are few projects wherein I fail to make use of something purchased for $1.08-with-tax, and more than a few that have been entirely created exclusively from an eyebrow-raising collection of off-price objects. 

Being such a frequent visitor to the half a dozen or so of the dollar stores of which I am most fond - The One With The Red Awning, The One Where The Radio Is Always Too Loud, The One That Doesn’t Have Votive Candles, The New One**, the DII (actual name) and The Other One – I’ve found that there are certain objects that I pick up over and over again, to wit:

The Most Useful Items The Dollar Store Has To Offer To The Professional Striptease Artist

• Sun Visors: No longer the exclusive property of old ladies in Florida grocery stores, the classic sun visor when inverted is the perfect base for most showgirl headdresses: lightweight, sturdy, comfortable, cut-able, glue-able, and often padded for comfort in just the right place, these seasonal buggers are worth their weight in Swarovskis. Since they disappear in the fall I snap them up by the dozen in the summer months. (As an added bonus, many visors now feature Engrish slogans and delightfully nonsensical illustrations!)

Actual visor slogans: "Sweet Day", "Say hello to the snow" and "Seeing you makes me h-" (rest of word hidden by feline Martin Scorsese.) (But I think we all know what it is.)

• Those Lacy Elastic Headbands You Put On Baby Girls Before They Have Enough Hair For Actual Barrettes And Stuff: Coincidentally, these innocent objects look a hell of a lot like garters – but at a much lower price than the average costume shop/stripper store/bridal salon charges for ten inches of frilly elastic, if the bachelorette party in the third row doesn’t give it back after the show it’s not the end of the world. Actually, I deliberately use these a lot as toss-into-the-audience pieces … whether or not you choose to remove the occasional pink teddy bear decoration first is a matter of personal taste.

And while we’re on the subject of stuff you don’t have to worry about getting back from the audience … 

• Cheap-Ass Pantyhose: Personally I like a good stocking peel during a floor show, though I’m crap at keeping track of where the damn things end up. Just snip the legs off these babies (leave about half an inch of control-top to keep the tops from rolling) and you have single-use, disposable stockings. 

It's a tropical wonderland.

• Fake-Ass Flowers: I love fake flowers; I always have. If I could, I’d cover my living room with the them, floor-to-ceiling - but since living in a shared space makes that less than ideal I’ve settled for covering costumes with them. There is certainly a time and a place for well-made, super-realistic blooms (Amber Ray’s gorgeous hair accessories, for example), but sometimes it’s a matter of quantity over quality and you just need a shit-ton of inexpensive plastic flowers to glue to stuff. When you snip off the stems the petals tend to come apart, but as long as you sew or glue all the layers together, dollar store flora are perfect for huge impactful splashes of color.

• Curtains: Although I’ve done it as a deliberate challenge***, I wouldn’t recommend using discount-store curtains as the base for sewing projects: they’re itchy, they’re stiff, they tend to unravel at seams, and usually they smell funny. But occasionally they’re just the right amount of gaudy, fringey or translucent to be incredibly useful as trains, veils or drapes.

Holy crap so much shiny.

• Holiday Decorations: Obviously, the dollar store is one of your first stops when putting together holiday-specific acts; but in the last few years my local Bastions of Cheapness have started featuring holiday ornaments and decorations in colors and degrees of blinginess that make for fabulous costume pieces any time of year. We’ve just entered the season of Glittery Things In Aqua, Turquoise, Hot Pink & Lime and I’m already stocking up on random ornaments, bows, stars and birdies to accessorize with in coming months. The Christmas and Easter seasons are great for bright colors and shiny or feathery things; New Years is lousy with glitter; Thanksgiving is perfect for stockpiling fake fruits and leaves; and Halloween – apart from the obvious creepy-themed items – is the time to bulk-purchase crappy boas (cut them up and use them as trim), cheap gloves, and light-up decorations that can be stripped for parts.

What are these even supposed to be? An awesome goddamned costume, that's what.

• Hula Hoops: Virtually useless for actual hooping (or so I’ve been told by those that hoop), cheapo hula hoops are perfect for building lightweight ‘skeletons’ for fabric structures, and can be used for hoop skirts and panniers in a pinch (or when steel boning isn’t available).

Dollar-store sewing challenge #1. Ingredients: Curtains, tablecloths, lace runners, hula hoops, bedsheets (bloomers), craft ribbon, party-favor beads, curtain tie-back tassels.

Behind every good headdress is a great visor.

• The Craft Supply, Jewelry, Hair Ornament, and (depending on where you live) Quinceañera-Favor Aisles: Although many of the items in these aisles aren’t useful on their own, they can provide great pieces for the base of projects: Styrofoam balls, clips and clasps, foam sheets, googly eyes galore, random bows and glittery things. 

• Party Tablecloths (Not technically a costume piece, but the single dollar-store item I purchase most frequently): The responsible stripper brings a tarp to cover the stage when making a wet, oily, painty or glittery mess; the fashionable, responsible stripper picks up a tablecloth from the dollar store party aisle in a color or pattern that compliments her or his costume. Bam.

Dollar-store sewing challenge #2: One more visor-based headdress, plus a curtain gown. (Bonus: attaching the two is a "flapper chain," aka the thing that makes your toilet flush. Hardware stores are just as much fun as dollar stores.) Photo by Francine Daveta

Ingredients: visor, flowers, sheer curtain. Photo: Emerson Vinyl

Several cautionary notes:

• While dollar-store nail polish is an excellent craft item, use it (and all discount cosmetics) advisedly on skin, hair and nails: that shit can burn, stain, or worse.

• Many items obtained at the Palace Of Low Prices retain a corresponding odor, something reminiscent of sugared petroleum. It's advisable to air such items out for a while before using them, and don't store them in closed bags or containers.

• Three tenths of the balloons in any given bag purchased in the Hey Ain't It Cheap! store will have factory-installed holes. This is to keep you on your toes. Plan ahead and buy an extra bag or two.

• Though fine for use as props, never never never eat anything from the dollar store.

•••••

* With frequent forays into the “let the costume serve the number” and “a two-thousand-dollar costume doesn’t automatically make a great act” camps, plus a permanent alliance with the House Of Not Every Costume Needs To Look Exactly Like Everyone Else’s.

** It’s been there for 8 years now.

Photo: Francine Daveta

*** I tend to craft as a grief-management mechanism; following the death of a close friend recently I found myself in desperate need of a project but with practically no materials at hand, and with no chance of getting to the Garment District before everything closed for the weekend. After a walk to the neighborhood discount store, $25 in curtains, cheap underwear and craft trim (plus some scraps from the studio fabric bin), and 10 hours of Dr. Dre on Spotify, this was born. (Ironically, the hair flower is one of Amber's actual legit pieces of art.)