oral mastery

Camp, the British word which defies description, but which can generally be defined as the lovechild between glamour and irony and can have a multitude of manifestations would be something I fell naturally into and upon, without the slightest bit of resistance. I found out through the endless bombardment of my very elitist intellectual gay men friends whom I frequented that I embodied it, but then, according to George Melly, a camp creature never knows one is camp. I also had now the chance to hear in a concentrated way more camp language as many of the dealers were British. I’d heard this strange talk in England, and did not understand any of it though I’d become more and more familiar with this jargon as I grew up. At this landmark show, I learned a few more basics of double entendres and the British homosexual slang known as Polari which incidentally uses a lot of Yiddish. The exhibition was fantabulosa, no naffs to be seen for miles. I zhooshed myself up and I minced the alleys ogling the zhooshy merch, a pocket full of handbag. (The exhibition was wonderful, not a straight person seen for miles, I tarted myself up and walked the alleys of the show, eyeing the showy merchandise, my pocket full of money). Its funny, most people don’t realize how much Polari is used in popular English language. Chicken, drag and naff are just three of the many words which have crossed over into everyday language. While I was swanning around thinking I was a Clara Bow “It” boy, I dated art dealers and collectors alike whom I’d met at this pivotal show. It was all very 1920s “The Plastic Age”, “Hoop-La”  and “Mantrap” films in my mind and in my actions I guess. It was around this time I did an artwork I thought quite clever. I took all my bakelite bracelets and strung them and wore them as a necklace. I still have it and occasionally add a bangle. This got me quite a lot of attention in my incarnation of the “Anti-Bourgeoise” woman I had become. Infact, my personality was entirely based on by that age, a capricious 1930s Schiaparelli woman, like Bettina Bergery and I decided my inner “Anti-Bourgeoise” woman would devour and seduce men, notably bourgeoise men with artistic pretentions. The “Anti-Bourgeoise”, I should mention sucked cock or aspired to it. The bourgeoise woman on the other hand most often loathed that kind of oral mastery.

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