Tag Archives: rocky horror

Sundry Sunday :: Comicon 2017.

6 Mar

It’s been a convention weekend. I have pictures, but they’re just of me and drift partner ’cause while I compliment the heck out of people I’m getting worse and worse at asking for their pictures. Whatever.

Thursday, in which drift partner pulled out her Red Lantern getup and I… went as Columbia from last fall’s Rocky Horror production on Fox. I couldn’t help myself. Finally a chance to be Columbia without booty shorts! Which are fine for other people, but not for me.

lanterncolumbia

(I will also brag: I spray-glittered the hat, hand-studded the bustier, and personally patched/drew on the back of the jacket [not seen in this picture] and the boots.)

Friday, we were blessed Princess Leia Organa and her gal pal Evaan Verlaine from the Princess Leia comics, which you should read if you haven’t.

leia

evaan

Saturday, drift partner was the fabulous Jillian Holtzmann and I was big ol’ robot Aida of SHIELD, circa 4.08 when she got shot and had science gloves.

holtz201

aida201

(Those science gloves, while definitely a first draft [I’d like to make them over, possibly from scratch], were a whole slew of fun modification adventures. And yes, there are tiny LED lights on there.)

And today, as before, Dany and Nym.

dany20s6

nym20s6

Anyway, it was nice and Vincent D’Onofrio and Evangeline Lilly and Terry Dodson of aforementioned Leia comic and Kate Leth of Patsy Walker AKA Hellcat are very nice. And we are now dead.

–your fangirl heroines.

 

Fashion Friday :: consider this a form of nostalgia and absurdity.

15 Feb

columbia (little nell)

Much like Spring Awakening was my senior year of high school, Rent my sophomore year, Phantom and Wicked my freshman year, Rocky Horror was my eighth grade year.  I realize that this seems out of order (shouldn’t Phantom come before most other things?  Really how can Rocky Horror define a thirteen-year-old?  Etcetera) but that’s how it was, in the most abstract terms possible.  I don’t know why Columbia (Little Nell) was always my favorite; she’s not really “to type” for me on the surface (I’m really more of a Magenta at first glance, which I’m totally okay with; I’ve probably actually grown into more of a Magenta just wholly) but back in the day, man, I adored her for reasons I can’t really explain.

bright this way jacket (modcloth)

Anyway, I’d gone into the jackets section of ModCloth to look for other things (as per my ongoing Friday night Dollhouse rewatch, which tonight began the end-of-series three-episode parade of the death of everyone I am the most attached to on weird personal levels [and also Paul, he dies too], I was thinking it would be good to just put together fake outfits) and then I saw this.  It’s currently out of stock, but I remembered seeing it in the past and thinking “oh, I should completely pull something together with this,” and then I decided, why the hell not?  Bright This Way Jacket, ModCloth.

edge of the coastline bustier top in magenta (modcloth)

Except I am doing this way nonliterally, like I usually do.  I’d like to think that a brave soul (braver than me) would actually consider wearing this somewhere, completely knowing they were alluding but embracing it.  Anyway.  Edge of the Coastline Bustier Top in Magenta, ModCloth.

one faux the road shorts (modcloth)

But see that’s the thing: even brave souls don’t often wear head to toe sequins on a daily basis.  So, adaptation.  One Faux the Road Shorts, ModCloth.

paisley pump (mossimo at target)

And this was my other impetus.  I saw these in a Target recently and proclaimed to the person with me, “that right there is literally everything my thirteen year old self wanted in a pair of shoes.”  Except not Mary Janes, and not tap shoes, but the blue glitter thing did it for me.  (I think that was a big part of it: I honestly don’t remember if my tap dancing thing slightly preceded my Rocky Horror thing or vice versa, but it was nonetheless a little bit of a thing.  Oh, artsy charter schools that actually offer [tap] dance as a viable elective.  I enjoyed you so.)  I didn’t buy them, because I don’t actually have much of a use/need for sparkly blue shoes (now, if they were Mary Janes, it would have been a different story, probably) but I remembered them for these reasons.  Paisley Pump, Mossimo at Target.

dream seam tights (modcloth)

Yes, these will do.  (While I’ve never been able to figure out if my Rocky Horror thing led to my corset thing or vice versa, much like tap dancing, I do know for a fact that it is 100% responsible for my fishnet tights phase.)  I can’t find appropriate blue socks, but for the brave soul wearing this out of the house, I don’t think that’s going to be a dealbreaker.  Dream Seam Tights, ModCloth.

I’m also forgoing equivalencies for the top hat (because while I did find a gold sequin beret, the jacket here is multicolored sequins, so that would drive me nuts) and the bow tie (well, there’s detailing on the top at the neck, so it’ll have to do).

–your fangirl heroine.

gods protect me

Theatre Thursday :: my junior high self is apparently envisioning Broadway adaptations

17 Nov

So I don’t know how I didn’t hear that they’d made a Bring it On musical until a few weeks ago. Especially considering that the creative team includes Tom Kitt, Lin-Manuel Miranda, and Jeff Whitty.  I did my research, and it made me slightly bummed, actually.  I’m still kind of excited about the creative team and the guilty pleasure it may turn out to be (or the disaster it could be, either way) but the plot is different.

It’s not a musical version of 2000’s Bring it On, my second-favorite movie from when I was eleven.  It’s just… another story about competing cheerleading squads, like the dozens of Bring it On sequels (okay, four) that have been produced over the last decade.  Each of them just gets worse and worse.  The great thing about the original is that it sort of knew it was ridiculous, or at least I hope it did: the sequels were ridiculous, but much less tongue-in-cheek.  (Or at least the one I saw was; I haven’t subjected myself to the others.)  Also, everyone in the original was really sarcastic at times, none more so than my babygirl Missy (Eliza Dushku).  Missy was my hero back in the day, man.  I actually kind of wanted to be a cheerleader for like… three months once, mostly so I could be sarcastic like her while doing it.

(I’m sure I’ve also mentioned my now-times amusement at imagining the crack that would be Faith and Glory [Clare Kramer] on a cheerleading squad together.  Yep.)

More importantly, though, Bring it On: The Musical got me thinking.  What about stage musical versions of other movies I loved when I was in junior high?  Well, Rocky Horror and Chicago are already stage shows, and Moulin Rouge is already a musical, though for copyright reasons it couldn’t play on stage the same way.  Legally Blonde got made a few years ago (and is… well, the same plot, but even more ridiculous.  I can safely say I still have a guilty fondness for Bring it On [and that is not just because of Eliza nope what are you saying] but Legally Blonde is mildly painful.)  But what about the others?

Well, Miss Congeniality could work.  Not the godawful sequel, of course.  But beauty pageant musicals… actually, if someone’s doing a beauty pageant musical, do Drop Dead Gorgeous.  (Apparently someone did, but it’s a drag show, which doesn’t quite count.  I’m talking ubersarcastic young women being self-parodying.  Phoebe Strole anywhere.  I don’t care that she’s 28.  She could still do it for the stage.)

Charlie’s Angels… again, not the sequel.  Though I doubt it would work as a musical at all.  It’s too reliant on action.  (Don’t judge the tastes of eleven year old me.  I beg of you.  I’m judging them hard enough myself.)

X-Men.  (Kind of the combo breaker in the my-junior-high-tastes category, I know, but bear with me.)  I really doubt you could do it correctly, at least off the movie (the first two please), and the comic purists would probably flip out if they tried to do it off of a comic arc, none of which I know anything about.  So I can’t discuss that.  (First Class might be fun, but that’s a recent film, so not relevant to this discussion.)

…geez, what else did I watch when I was in junior high?  I saw all the usual things at least once, Save the Last Dance and… uhm, other things.  I really don’t remember.  I’ve mentioned the most important ones.

Well, I think the moral of this story is: I will pay money to see it when/if Bring it On: The Musical is in reasonable driving distance of me, for the sake of my eleven year old self.  (Maybe it’s better it’s not off the film.  I can’t imagine a reasonable substitute for Eliza, really.)

–your fangirl heroine.

Social Life Saturday :: it’s Halloween weekend.

30 Oct

This means:

  1. I am actually busy doing social activities.
  2. I am cheating on tonight’s post.
  3. I went Rocky Horror midnighting (well, nine-thirtying) last night.  It’s a quintessential part of the Halloween experience.
  4. Wednesday will in fact bring photos of my and my Scoobies’ costumes.
  5. I am too exhausted to even be witty about this.  Sorry, kids.

–your fangirl heroine.

Sarcastic Saturday :: why I am awful at organized games.

25 Sep

By “organized games,” I mean boardgames, card games, video games, most computer games, things like that.  It is the same reason as why I am just terrible at remembering/enjoying simple jokes: my situational lack of whimsy.  I maintain that I am very whimsical in certain ways, as well you all know, but in others, logic and a need to make things make sense and make things well-developed ruins all hopes.

One side-effect of this is the fact that I honestly spend more time while playing games organizing materials than strategizing.  Some people take five minutes just to pick which move to make and then another five minutes are spent making it; I’m more interested in when it’s not my turn.  When I’m not expected to be paying attention, I can be sorting all of my cards or papers parallel and by a given system (order acquired, numerical order, usually ascending, financial value color-coding; this is true of cards acquired in games like Citadels, where the cards represent “districts” you’ve built, and I’m busy sorting them in order of cost to build each district, then by color within that.  It’s also true of things like Life or Monopoly, where my money always has to be in perfect numerical order) and that’s just infinitely more fun to me.

I once participated, years ago, in a marathon two-day game of Risk.  Rather, the game was held at my house, so despite being eliminated on Day One, I still had to be present.  No mind, though: I spent Day Two taking all of the unused army pieces and arranging them in various usually symmetrical patterns and then photographing them.  Army configurations and just pretty designs alike, I actually had more fun doing that than I did playing the game.

When it comes to games like Life, I’m the world’s biggest weirdo.  I attribute it to being a writer, but it could just be being neurotic.  I’m not content just with the brick wall vague descriptions of things on the board: GRADUATION and GET A JOB and GET MARRIED and BUY A HOUSE and BABY BOY/GIRL/TWINS.  No, I have to figure out what everyone majored in (it’s funny to see who chooses their actual major and who chooses one based in fantasy) and exactly what job they got (if they’re the teacher, what do they teach?  If they’re the Superstar, what’s their field: acting, singing, filmmaking, what?) and exactly who they marry (I will confess to a round of Life I once played wherein little pink plastic me happily married little blue plastic Rupert Giles, and I apologize for nothing) and exactly, exactly what the house is like (Colonial or Farmhouse are such vague terms) and exactly what boy/girl/twins you birth (in that same game where I married Giles, my friend’s twins were Lothario, Jonathan B. Wright’s character from Nick and Norah’s Infinite Playlist, and Willow Rosenberg-in-canon).  I like inventing made-up lives more than I like the strategy aspect.

And don’t even get me started on computer games.  I never played any of the ones that involve shooting or mayhem: I played things like The American Girl Premiere, where you could make computer plays starring humanized American Girl dolls and their friends.  I think you were supposed to act out scenes from the books, but I choreographed dance numbers and made people walk through floors.  When I got a little older, I was casting the American Girls into plays and movies I liked: a friend and I, when we were much too old  to be playing the game seriously, once staged the first third, I’d venture, of Rocky Horror with Molly McIntyre and co.  (Molly herself played Columbia, as the girls themselves were the only ones with multiple costumes and Molly had both a tap-dancing outfit and pajamas.)

I played things like Roller Coaster Tycoon, which is a much more grown-up sort of game.  Except for I’d play it by inventing some ridiculous theme (usually a cartoon I’d enjoyed in childhood; the Care Bears, Hello Kitty, Rainbow Brite, and Sailor Moon all got parks) and decorating and color-coding the entire park around it.  I’d build tame rides myself, but I was always more interested in building scenery.  For that Rainbow Brite park, I actually built Rainbow’s entire castle out of the little walls and towers you could use.  It wasn’t even a ride, it just sat there.  I’d make my dad build my “serious” coasters for me.

I played things like The Sims, where my sole goal was to create a house (in Sims 1) or a neighborhood (in Sims 2) and populate it with the characters from my favorite, again, plays or films.  By Sims 2 I had entire neighborhoods full of the characters from The Phantom of the Opera and Rent (including the never-seen parents of every character, the siblings of every character, and the full families of only-mentioned characters like April; she had five sisters, if I remember correctly).  I’d design them to look as much like the characters as they could and I’d build them houses decorated exorbitantly to suit their characters’ tastes (I believe this would be defined as my own messed up “headcanon”) and I’d make the characters that were supposed to be in love with each other meet like… once.  Then I’d get bored just clicking “talk” and “wave” and “dance” and “laugh” over and over and go back to building more neighborhoods.

Video games are another thing entirely.  Being an only child who was never predisposed to driving computer-generated cars or shooting computer-generated anythings, I didn’t play video games growing up.  I first played, like, Crash Bandicoot Racing at someone’s house when I was maybe eleven, and I absolutely sucked at it.  I played Mario Kart and Mario Party and things like that with friends as I got a little older, and I still sucked.  I just have a hard time focusing enough on the controls to learn them when I’m busy going “wouldn’t that car just run over that banana peel?” or “we’re driving in space, why doesn’t our car have a roof?”  This is not to say I didn’t enjoy Mario or Crash; I did, as much as I could.  I just never played enough to be good at it, or to get over things that made no sense.  I certainly prefer them to games like Halo, where it’s just too chaotic and I don’t understand why you shoot someone just for being affiliated with a different primary color, especially while running around space-age Stonehenge.  (Also, shooting games throw me even worse than driving games do.)  There was one game I played in high school, one where you’re in a Western town and you shoot bunnies with plungers, and I don’t remember what it was called, but, despite sucking at it, I somewhat enjoyed myself with that, too. That one was absurd enough that I actually had an easier time letting go of things that made sense and just going with it.

I have too many thoughts.

–your fangirl heroine.

Film Friday :: my movie lettering system

9 Apr

This is somewhat inspired by my viewing of Syfy’s momentous 200th original crapfest of a movie (Scream of the Banshee).  I realize that some people call this kind of movie B-movies, and in the day maybe this was true.  I sort it out a little differently in my head, and want to share.

A movies
Your Oscar-winning stuff, your serious stuff.  Dramas that aren’t too cheesy.  (So, like, that one with Michelle Williams and Ryan Gosling that I still haven’t seen, Blue Valentine or whatever, but not like Charlie St. Cloud probably.)  Some comedies.  (Yes to The Kids Are All Right-type comedies.  No to Due Date.)  Some musicals.  (Yes to Chicago, no — bless its’ heart anyway — to Repo.) Things with name actors in them, things with some buzz and good critical reception, things that are actually made on somewhat of a budget.

B movies
Something with elements of trash, a ludicrous storyline, whatever, but still with some modicum of production value and actual intellectual decency and heart.  So anything mentioned in last week’s corsets make things better rant: Rocky Horror, Repo, Burlesque, hell, Sucker Punch probably.  Grindhouse is like my definition.  Stuff that isn’t high-class.  That isn’t gonna win any awards that aren’t voted on by twentysomethings.  Stuff that knows it’s ridiculous and embraces that fact.  Something that doesn’t try to hide, that doesn’t mind going over the top on purpose.

C movies
Something that’s just classic trash in every way.  Horror movies, usually; ones like Syfy produces.  Like Scream of the Banshee, or Sharktopus, or Mansquito, or — any of the 200.  Like another I recently viewed, Pig Hunt, which was disappointing because it didn’t really follow the usual C movie convention of following every single predictable rule that Seth Grahame-Smith laid out in How to Survive a Horror Movie.  The order of which characters die.  The time at which they die.  The characters that do die.  (Like if someone has sex.  They’re doomed.)  And these movies make no secret of being exactly what they are, either, at least in terms of production.  The actors may be Trying To Act.  The writers may be Trying To Write.   (Or writing like that just to amuse themselves; that’s what I’d do.)  But it’s ridiculously low-budget and knows this.

F movie
The Room.

 

–your fangirl heroine.

Film Friday :: why is it that corsets make everything better?

2 Apr

I’m not talking (today) about the actual physical wearing of corsets on one’s own body.  (Though I could extol the virtues of that, too.)  No, I’m talking about how they seem to be a recipe for awesome in film.  I’ve thought about it, and every movie I love that features corsets I love just a little more for that very fact.  They are always a plus, always.

Like the cultiest cult classic of all time, Rocky Horror.  Has corsets in it.  Is therefore THAT much more awesome.  (And it even has corsets worn by men.  And multiple corsets worn by multiple characters.  And if you count Columbia’s sequin bustier thingy at the beginning, glittery corsets, which is in my opinion made of win, period.)

Or its bloody stepchild, Repo! The Genetic Opera.  It’s just as ridiculous.  Waaaay gorier.  Makes people squirm for reasons other than “omfgtrannies” and stuff.  (It makes me giggle for those same reasons.  /morbid & creepifying.)  And it does/is all of these things while there are corsets. Corsets made of spectacular.  Corsets that again seem to have glittery somethings.  Corsets with feathers.  (Which is just as fun as it looks.)

Hell, even campy trash like Burlesque has corsets and epic.  I mean, it’s an absurd movie.  It’s Cher and Christina Aguilera singing while a bunch of others mouth things along.  (That one backup girl who goes “I lost my contact lens!” and flutters about wearing her glasses with her costume?  Is my hero.  I say leave the glasses on.  Glasses + corset = shmexy.)  It’s perfect at being what it is, and it isn’t trying too hard to be anything else.

Or there’s always something like Sin City.  Corsets + cartoon blood = corsets + edgy musical numbers = fantastic.  There’s foxy hookers killing people.  In corsets.  And it’s beautiful, and it’s fun, and, and, and.

(If I was cross-posting to Fictional Friday, I suppose, I could include classic old-timey corseting like Deadwood on my list.  But that’s a whole different thing, really, so I’ll save it for another day.)

In short?  Corsets make everything better because they are phenomenally awesome.

–your fangirl heroine.