Unpaid Spokeswomen #10
Welcome to Unpaid Spokeswomen, a column where we log what we’ve been into this week. Behind the wigs, makeup, costumes, and several layers of irony, we are two humans who genuinely enjoy doing things. Here is a weekly roundup of our unfiltered expert recommendations.
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Trixie:
Jaymes Mansfield’s Youtube Channel
I understand that by being a part of GOOPED, you are someone whose life is pretty much a runaway shopping cart of flaming cat turds. And that’s okay. Your psychological status racquets back and forth between being a vehement underachiever and someone who desperately wishes to have her shit together. You settle on a somewhere-in-the-middle decoupage of these two life statuses; flawless makeup application but with filthy brushes. Militant dietary restrictions but a compulsion to watch shows about people who eat couches. You let your boyfriend of five years treat you like absolute shit but you’re not on speaking terms with your mother because she “doesn’t get your vibe.”
However, I have a completely life-changing experience for you; The Jaymes Mansfield Youtube Channel. This woman is a fabulous drag queen who styles wigs from nothing to SOMETHING bitch. She has her own line of fabulous wigs that she transforms but the real gold is spun when she is rescuing downtrodden gutter wigs. Costume wigs, clown wigs, hand-me-down drag wigs- you name it. Jaymes could pretty much take the hair from your cat brush and turn it into something functional for the gig. When your life is falling apart, there’s something very comforting about knowing that you can flip on one of these short and FREE videos and see a hairpiece be rehabilitated for the gawds.
The Final Girls Support Group
To be fair, anything horror-adjacent will pretty much get a thumbs up from me. Most horror fans consider themselves aficionados who possess a golden palate that only responds to the most premium scream-content. They balk at the B-movies and they eye-roll at the classics. I am the other type of horror person in that even a Walgreens skeleton window cling gets me excited. I love Ooky Spooky stuff and I have collected the characters from horror films in my mental menagerie as I imagine some revere religious figures. Sydney Prescott is my Buddha, Laurie Strode is my Allah, and The Leprechaun is my Yaweh.
Imagine my unbridled joy when I noticed my boyfriend David was carrying around this book called The Final Girl Support Group. I was cursed with several sick days last weekend and I was in need of a healthy distraction from my own imminent death. Written by Grady Hendrix, the story imagines the final girls from horror films as real women whose real-life massacres have been franchised and sensationalized for the Hollywood Dollar. These sole survivors take part in a weekly therapy session known as “The Final Girl Support Group.” However, the routine is disrupted when the group gets exposed and Final Girls start getting killed off one by one! This book was a clever way to examine the tragedies of trauma and Hollywood’s obsession with violence against women using black comedy and a heavy dose of slasher tropes. And it’s short! I took a break from reading Michelle Visage’s The Diva Rules to bang through this book. Didn’t cure my illness but I strongly recommend it.
Katya:
AMC Theaters
We come to this place for magic. We come to AMC theaters to laugh, to cry, to care, because we need that–all of us. That indescribable feeling we get when the lights begin to dim, and we go somewhere we’ve never been before. Not just entertained but somehow reborn together. Dazzling images on a huge silver screen. Sound that I can feel. Somehow, heartbreak feels good in a place like this. Our heroes feel like the best part of us. And stories feel perfect and powerful. Because here…they are.
Six Flags Magic Mountain
I love roller coasters and carnival rides. I grew up in the northeast where we enjoyed a range of carnivals and amusement parks ranging from the rickety traveling carnival with its rusted old machines to the sprawling Six Flags mega coasters. As the years went by, many of the smaller parks were either shut down or converted into larger ones, like Six Flags New England located in a town called Agawam. This was back in the ‘90s and it is now unfathomable to me that my family of 5 would languish in the blazing sun for over 2 hours with no cell phones to entertain ourselves in line for the Batman ride. But we did, and as far as any of us can remember none of us bled, cried or sustained any lasting emotional traumas. What I do remember is the absolute sheer fucking terror every time the coaster approached the summit. In that brief yet interminable half-minute excitement would give way to a fear so gripping and intense, followed by regret–and then sometimes a quick but futile plea to a God I suddenly hoped existed: please, please don’t let me die, I know I’m going to die, why did I do this, I don’t want to do thi–and WHAM the coaster would barrel down the track at breakneck speed and the fear was obliterated by an ecstatic pleasure as the wind whipped my screaming face for a joyously indescribable 50 seconds. Exiting the car, breathless and panting, I would always ask “can we do that again?”
Many years later when I moved to LA, I went to “Out on the Mountain,” a special event where for one night of the year, gay people are allowed to congregate in the Valencia theme park under the cover of darkness to enjoy top notch roller coasters, extremely overpriced fast-food (that takes over 30 minutes to cook) and delicious 12 dollar water bottles. The benefits of this once a year event are significant: no punishing sunlight, cool breezy weather, and near total darkness that will surely facilitate some lurid public shenanigans if you are so inclined. And, lots and lots of queer people! My favorite coaster is definitely X2, known as a 4D coaster where the seats can rotate forward or backwards while twisting, inverting and looping. It’s so thrilling, disorienting and batshit. But my absolute favorite ride is Crazanity, a horrible name that I assume is a combination of crazy and insanity. It’s a giant rotating pendulum with circular out-facing seating that swings to almost vertical. The progression is gradual, as it starts out as breezy and beautiful and rachets up to absolutely terrifying in a way that is just so intoxicating. Each time I visit the park I get on this ride at least three times. Plus, the structure is lit like a beautifully tacky Las Vegas monument, and they make it a special rainbow for Gay night. What an ally.
I love how Trixie fangirls over other queens and lifts them up every chance she has. Warms my shriveled little cold heart to see it :)
"you are someone whose life is pretty much a runaway shopping cart of flaming cat turds"
Hey, that's only true 50% of the time Trixie. The other 50% it's a shopping cart of cat turds that is standing still and not on fire.