Jhames

Designer, writer, activist, muse, bodhisattva.

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Some kind of bliss

2008 February 16

I received a package from my friend Jeffrey a couple days that I’ve been hesitant to open. For months (not judgin’, Boo, but we’ve been talking about this since October) he’s promised me an ultimate mix of Kylie Minogue because I just happen to appreciate two of her songs. And now, here I am, with a CD of Kylie songs to further appreciate.

I don’t know if I can listen to it. I mean, what if I find myself liking her? Does that mean I’ve crossed over into further recesses of fagdom from where there is no return? I can’t bring myself to attend dance clubs wearing nothing but denim and a smile, I just can’t. Or worse yet, I wind up like this:

PLAID AND DENIM, PEOPLE. I mean Jesus.

In the defense of Kylie, I will say this: Kylie’s got talent. Unlike that hack Mawhodawhadda. You know, her. That one.

Comments

"crossed over into further recesses of fagdom"

you say this like it's a bad thing. i'm confused.

Shopping at A&F, honey. We are talking a slippery slope!

Listening to Kylie is good for your soul and keeps the plaid sporting A&E queens at bay.

I swear.

Honey, crafting the ultimate Kylie compilation takes time, you hear me? I burned three versions of that mix which did not live up to my standards and might possibly have scared the bejeesus out of you. (Some early parts of her oeuvre are an acquired taste. I'll leave it at that.)

And for the record, Kylie has never led to plaid-and-denim wearing on my part (and you know friends like me will smack you before we let that happen to you), but she has led me to an appreciation of the power inherent in glitter and feathers.

And Australia. Srsly.

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