Eyes Lined Up

The Art of Making Up One's Mind

I cannot recall where, but I read a quote that gave me a wry smile, probably decades ago, which said, “I put lipstick on my forehead to make up my mind.”

Make-up as applied by people could be to accentuate the positive, conceal the unseemly, or exaggerate the bizarre. I wouldn't know, as I use neither lipstick nor blusher, but I have my mind made up about a few things.

A Modern Avon Lady

After paying for groceries this evening at Aldi, I walked past a cashier at one of the checkouts and my eyes were drawn to hers, as they were marked out with dark eyeliner; you could not miss them. I thought she might be a quintessential Aldi lady, in profession and looks, borrowing the idea of Avon ladies from a time before.

Canal Street’s Spectacle

Then on Canal Street in Manchester, the centre of the Gay Village, there are lots of female impersonators or drag queens in desperately outlandish make-up, and the less said of their apparel and high-heeled footwear that would commit the sensible to the emergency room of an orthopaedic hospital, the better. They regale us with offers of cheap drinks to patronise the clubs they represent.

I am left wondering whether this is for them a profession they get paid for or just a hobby. I had a fascination for that subculture and their performances in the early 1990s, but I am much less enamoured by the spectacle today.

From Subculture to Mainstream

Yet, this genre has gained global reality television popularity in the drag race competitions started by RuPaul. One such drag queen from Manchester was a runner-up in the inaugural UK series.

In my view, no self-respecting woman would go to the extent of a drag queen, except perhaps ladies of a certain persuasion of questionable repute. Yet, in the case of the drag queen I saw on my way home, there was both eyeliner and eyeshadow that would make Nefertiti blush.

The Fine Line Between Art and Excess

The use of make-up can be abused, and it does get abused to garish and grotesque levels. Some end up quite ghoulish, enough to put you to great fright if observed in dim light. However, all we can do is be entertained from a distance. We wouldn’t want to be represented by them so closely that the association becomes difficult and inconvenient.

On Spectacle and Proximity

There's something revealing about our relationship with spectacle. We’re drawn to what's unusual, extreme, even outrageous, yet we instinctively maintain a boundary between observation and involvement. A rather blunt Yoruba saying captures this tension: “A mad man is a sight to watch in the marketplace, but not a joy to have as a relation.”

The proverb isn’t really about madness; it's about how we engage with what lies outside our norms. We watch, we’re entertained, perhaps even fascinated, but we preserve distance. It’s an honest, if uncomfortable, acknowledgement of how most of us actually behave towards those we find bewildering or excessive.

Yet this instinct towards separation deserves examination. We may counter it with the humbling reflection of John Bradford: “There but for the grace of God go I.” We are no better than the other but for grace, mercy, and fortune. What separates the observer from the observed may be nothing more than circumstance, upbringing, or mere chance.

This is not a critique or a celebration, just a neutral observation inviting conversation and opinion.

Blog - I wear lipstick (November 2005)

A Google NotebookLM AI Podcast on this blog

Ronaldo learns he cannot brag about drag

An idle mind

The truth of an idle mind being the devil’s workshop cannot have been so better realised than in the story of the three-time FIFA world footballer of the year being caught in a scandal.

The football prowess of Ronaldo Luis Nazário de Lima simply Ronaldo as any football prodigy is known – a single name that says it all like Pele or Maradona, legendary and he might soon be on a plinth of adulation as the aforementioned world stars of the beautiful game.

Unfortunately, Ronaldo picked up a knee injury which has left him sidelined and recuperating in beautiful Brazil.

It would appear after a night out; Ronaldo dropped his girlfriend at her house on Monday and then decided to paint the town red or whatever colourful shade you might be persuaded to choose.

Wrong turn, wrong plan

With a person of Ronaldo’s means and status one would think he would go looking for something sophisticated, classy and discrete as gentlemen of that kind of persuasion would do, he throws caution to the winds and picks up three prostitutes.

Every fan of Ronaldo must to wondering with surprise and then with male chauvinistic glee to realise that he is confident that his manhood can tackle three players and score each time – I am exhausted at the thought, already.

Having acquired goods on the street without necessary warranties and guarantees, a trial squeeze of the supposed harbour of mammary glands and a little caress up the thigh revealed that like poles were about to attract.

Guys in drag are not what Ronaldo is about to brag about, it is very much like Ronaldo facing the goalkeeper on his side and sending the ball into the net for an own goal, Ronaldo had picked up transvestites – Ouch! Ouch! Puke up the Viagra.

Caveat emptor

This is very much like yesterday evening when I was out; there are many peddlers of watches, jewellery and gadgets who were going round offering amazing deals. But the thought crossed my mind that many might take up these deals and end up with dud watches, fake jewellery or damaged gadgets.

With no receipts, traceable link to the seller or any means of return, they end up in the serious bad situation of being the buyer caught out for being foolish – there are reasons why it is better to buy things from properly laid out businesses at shops and those reasons are more than just getting cheap stuff.

Smart or fool?

So, Ronaldo in thought over-drive, possibly exacerbated by the plausible psychological problems his knee injury has given him, successfully paid off two of the transvestites but had a hard time with a third business-savvy and opportunistic transvestite who left with Ronaldo’s documents when he refused to buy out his embarrassment in what constitutes both blackmail and extortion.

With proof that Ronaldo has been playing ball in the wrong field, Andre Luiz Ribeiro Albertino gains a profile that elevates transvestism to celebrity and gains probably more that Ronaldo can pay for, but at Ronaldo’s expense.

One must give it to the transvestites for being so convincingly feminine that they were able to persuade Ronaldo of the excitement and pleasure of a trio of commercially available pudenda.

The police would suggest Ronaldo is probably a victim of extortion – I beg to disagree, he is more a victim of himself for being idle, unfaithful and utterly naïve – in those circumstances he was taken advantage of.

Indeed, the legal process should handle the matter of possible extortion but the lame excuse of psychological problems might not persuade Ronaldo’s girlfriend and frankly owning up to the fact that he was looking for fun might just impress me a bit more.

A young man cannot afford to be idle – that is the moral of this tale.

Pride without Prejudice - Berlin

Fake Davids on parade

Probably a mega-container load of imitation Michelangelo-Davids was smuggled into Germany and tipped over in the heart of Berlin’s Kurfurstendamm as sculpted bodies of firm abdominal muscle filled everyone with a political correct green of envy.

Forget the fake Rolex, Jimmy Choo, Louis Vuitton, Dior, Gucci or common Calvin Kline; made in China for a farthing and sold in Europe for a bomb, for the sake of vanity some might just cost an arm and a meal – hedonism is in town.

Six-packs, on floats and on the road like a rerun of I Robot clones masquerading as men, one could almost read a by-line in the gossip columns that made that rather unkind observation, we are growing old and it is showing. Must get the PA to book a lunch date with Dr. 90210.

Show it, flaunt it

It was Christopher Street Day as it is known in German-speaking countries, Gay Pride in others, the whole town could see the flamboyance, hear the noise and it was as good a family day out for a spectacle as any.

It somehow make up for the bare-arsed cheek of a hotel guest who wearing leather chaps forgot to wear denims underneath as he stepped out of the lift to present himself to the public in mooning glory – that beats the sagging trousers, you couldn’t get gob-smacked for it was too impolite an observation to react to.

As we watched the parade, the weather gave way to the forecast, it poured rain like the flood was back, we all sought shelter, but the parade weathered that storm as we empathised about how those perfect bodies crafted in the addiction of gym worship got drenched “to the skin” – they had nothing on top and basically swimming trunks – ditch “to the skin”, they were literally naked.

Well, really, there was too much jealousy in the air to be that concerned, if those bodies dissolved like salt in water we probably would have rejoiced, no end, we would have been the best bodies around.

Dragging the shoes

Meanwhile, many got into their glad rags and most especially those in drag – the clothes were feminine, but no naturally born woman would wear dresses like that – I suppose that is the litmus test between drag and women’s fashion.

I could not help but notice a few shoes and boots, heels so high, you will need a space shuttle to ascend to the point where the feet rest on the in-lays, any normal person would instantly suffer vertigo. As the rain subsided for the semblance of sunshine to reappear, I snapped a few shoes that walk our streets only just once a year.

You will have to wait till tomorrow to see the whole collection. Here is a sampler.