Da Fashionista.com

The Scene


Gay Pride today in WeHo.




Sable Crow invited me to march in the parade with The Trevor Project. I'm officially an honorary gay. Only took me 32 years.










Had breakfast with Mr. Diabolina before meeting Sable Crow.

During our meal, this was the scene over his shoulder. Only on Santa Monica Blvd.








Met up with Sable Crow and walked around soaking up blinged out rides getting parade-ready














This year's parade had more of an activist feel than previous years.















Probably in anticipation of more bible-thumping protestors. Ughs.




But the overall message of the day remained the same: pride.









Pride in who you are and what you are.




Pride in a community that is about acceptance not judgment, fun times not hell fire and brimstone.








Today Sable Crow told me about a philosophy he's been learning more about recently, one that's been really empowering at a time when gay rights are being attacked in the US. A philosophy that shows throughout history and across cultures, gay men have held revered positions in society. They have been shamans and healers and artists. They have been the ones to toe the line between male and female and thus have a unique insight into both.

When you think about it, this dynamic still plays out in interesting ways. For example, the stereotype of gays as beautifiers (hairdressers, fashion designers, etc.) as well as early adopters of all things fabulous. Interesting no? Want to learn more. Think fully understanding my affinity for gay culture is vital at this time in my life. I said to Mr. Diabolina the other day that we lead the life of a gay couple. Namely because we have tons of disposable income and no children.






Went from an afternoon with boyz and Momma




To dinner with Mami. Funny jumble of a day. Funny jumble of a life.












The Outfit
Rogan for Target shorts
American Apparel top

The Accessories
Thrifted scarf and purse
Trevor Project tshirt as, um, pocket scarf
Forever 21 sunglasses
Marc by Marc Jacobs sandals

The Grade
F






The Commentary


Really screwed the pooch today.



Let down all my hot gays and fierce trannies.











Thought about rocking my new sexy romper today.


But want to debut it on our trip to Hawaii in two weeks.









Just didn't feel very fabulous when Sable Crow woke me up at 8 am. Ugh.






Threw on the gray AA top. It's a hand me down from my mom.















The white shorts




And summer scarf.


















Not sure how I ended up so dowdy and fugly. I plead hypothyroidism.


Earlier in the week, I promised Sable Crow I'd show up in an orange thong and a smile. He said yum but warned me that the Trevor organizers would have t-shirts for us. T-shirts made for Tyrannosaurus Rexes. No smalls or mediums in sight. F. Unacceptable for a gay organization.











We tried to come up with creative ways to wear said tshirts. But UGH how do you wear a hammock?





This was the only acceptable way we could figure.















Luckily one of the boys had one golden medium squirreled away. I let Sable Crow take it. Figured it was more important for him to look hot than me.



This is what I looked like in the sleeping bag of a tshirt. The worst Glamour don't EVER. Ultimately I refused to wear it. Felt bad about not representing but there was no way I was going to march in my first Pride parade not proud. Especially in my hometown i.e. where people might RECOGNIZE me.













I just can't rock a tank top as a dress




I am no Rumi.










Tried to tie it up - eighties style - to mitigate the enormity of the fit.



But felt super self conscious in white shorts and a midriff baring knotted up tank. Shudder just to think of it.






Last Sunday's outfit would have been a better choice





But Friday's look was ideal - head to toe Trevor orange and a rainbow colored belt.








At least my orthopedic hot shoes were a good call. Comfy for parading.



Though rollerskates with pink wheels would have been better. Gays: 1. Diabolina: 0.








In the end I should have just slapped on the No H8 face tattoos we scored at the last "gay pride" parade in WeHo.


This American Apparel tshirt would have been purrfect too. Damn it. It's on my birthday wish list. You better get crackin' if you haven't picked up my present yet - only 6 more shopping weeks left :)