Wacky Chicks by Simon Doonan

Author:Simon Doonan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon & Schuster
Published: 2003-07-15T00:00:00+00:00

As I prepare to leave optimistic, happy Pearl in her kitschy pad, I cannot help but reflect upon the joys of bad taste, and the miseries of good taste. Pearl’s décor is, after all, the cheery lowbrow style of postwar upbeat consumerism. The bright colors and synthetic surfaces are so much more mood-elevating than the Armaniesque greiges and chambeiges that have become the signifiers of good taste at the beginning of the twenty-first century. Pearl’s décor is therefore an unwitting testament to the utter pointlessness of good taste.

Like many wacky chicks I spoke to, Pearl spends untold amounts of time putzing around her playful, unorthodox home. “Why go out? It’s festive, colorful, it’s comfy—sort of—and upbeat. There are lots of cool books to look at, there are lots of records and I can dress however I want. It’s my favorite place to be.”

Miss Harbour’s home—and that of every wacky chick—is more than just a creative romper room. It is also a therapeutic retreat from the exhausting vicissitudes that are part and parcel of la vie wackee, a place to recharge and refluff their Energizer bunny. Pearl’s personal style, which she expresses full-throttle in her interior décor, can bring unwanted attention once she is outside the safety of her bungalow. “Before I leave the house I shimmy and shake it in front of the mirror to put myself in a good mood and to prepare myself because I know some fucking creep might get the wrong idea and think I’m slutty.”

Given their emotional and creative commitment to their respective cribs, it’s not surprising that my wacky chicks are fiercely protective of their spaces. I ask Pearl what would happen if a burglar broke into her pad and encountered her Aladdin’s cave of kitsch. “They would probably turn right around and leave, unless they were a drag queen.” And how about if they had a stall at the flea market? “If they took my stuff and tried to flog it, then I’d come and find them and break their legs.”

12 The origin of the word “naff:” now widely used in the U.K. to mean “a depressing lack of style,” “naff” was originally a gay slang acronym for “Not Available for Fucking”—i.e., straight, i.e., nowhere near as fabulous as a gay person or thing. “Naff” is a great word with no American translation. Remember, “tacky,” means “cheap or glitzy,” whereas “naff” is about stylistic shortcomings that are horrifyingly average and pathetically ungroovy. Use the word “naff” and become a connoisseur of naff.

13 The Well of Loneliness, by Radclyffe Hall, is a lugubriously poetic 1928 wrist-slasher of a lesbian novel about “a soul that finds itself wandering, unwanted, between the spheres.” Memo to you: triple your Zoloft before reading.

14 If you do not understand this reference, then you have my deepest sympathies. Rent the Rosalind Russell version of Auntie Mame and rectify this contemptible gap in your knowledge.

15 If you want to try this, then, do as Mrs. Seifter does—adhere those jewels with nontoxic surgical glue.

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