1. If given the task of styling yourself, what would you choose as the accoutrements?
Balmain leather leggings and lace-up boots, a Madewell bracelet and the Reed Krakoff ‘T-bar’ bracelet.
2. If you could appear in any film what would it be?
On Mabel Longhetti in “A Woman Under the Influence.” One of the few films that proves time and time again to be a tour de force to watch and gives Gena Rowlands the right to tell every other actress to sit down.
3. Who is the most interesting person you’ve ever been worn by?
A rapper’s hype man, underneath the sweatshirt, “Yo,” found underneath the ubiquitous oversized, sports jersey, “‘Sup” but over the Hanes wife beater, “Nín hǎo!” Looking out over the packed, humid arena, he knows if revealed to his faction of society they wouldn’t understand my being there and the only true player in the game who could ever openly pull me off would be Kanye West, possibly Tyler, the Creator. All of that aside, it was the chance the hype man took in order to feel my cotton voile and raw silk panels against his sweaty, pulsating skin while belting out such classics as bitches, hoes, various weapons references, “Yo, yo, yo,” “What, what, what,” various drug references, “Heezy fo sheezy,” the random “Scarface” and or waning Italian gangster mention, Gucci, Prada, Margiela, barking, “Awwweeeee yaaaaayyy!” and lastly, “Mothahfuckaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhs!” These words and sounds he will continue to feverishly scream into the mic night after night while quietly dreaming of one day being tapped to resurrect the long defunct Maison Laferrière by the head of Google, who will buy Maison Laferrière simply because Google really likes to buy stuff.
4. Who are your top 4 smock wearers of all time?
#1 Sweeney Todd
#2 Cool reenactor guy.
#3 The peasant in Cezanne’s Peasant in a Blue Smock.
#4 The Invisible Woman
5. What is something about you we otherwise wouldn’t know?
I hail from a theater background and have the ability to perform monologues channeling people I have never met using the Mississippi drawl of a thwarted, sweaty, wicker chair perched, Tennessee Williams heroine.
6. Sounds intense. Do you have a favorite channeled monologue? If so, can you give us a sampling?
Yes. The woman who has a big day tomorrow therefore must pleasure herself into relaxation mode. Unfortunately, she’s having a hard time connecting with her pop-culture driven, fantasy realm suitor. Here goes…
“If I’m being honest with you, Toby, you look a lot like Doug whom I’m married to in the real world but with a lot more hair … Well, I’m just here for one thing and one thing only and since you are all pop culture’s offering at the moment and it is late and I do have to get up early to finish the graph for the presentation, not to mention get Kit and Ollie off to school– Toby, you don’t need to sing a melancholy song for me right now … Nooo, I really don’t care to see your app ideas … Yes, your tweets are very clever. Did you get a chance to take the Ritalin I gave you the last time we met? … Now’s definitely not the time for Creepy Bob Dylan. And since we are on the subject, *nose crinkles* I don’t think it’s very funny. Actually, I think it’s really– Toby, don’t cry … How ’bout you just kiss me, okay? Gently. Remember, act like you’ve been there … Ouch! You bit my lip! … Oh, don’t start in with the crying, Toby … I do think you’re sweet and you’re kind and funny on occasion plus you love your indie bands, a quality I’ve worked long and hard to craft an allure of sexiness around … Toby, please stop squalling those melancholy tunes … Tobe … TOBY! I don’t care about your indie beats or how sensitive ‘late in life’ virginity loss made you or how Creepy Bob Dylan wants to give my pinky toe butterfly kisses! I have this room for another 10 minutes before Doug notices I’m gone then hobbles down here asking questions I’m not prepared to answer! … He can’t because he pulled a groin muscle showboating at Ollie’s pee wee footbowl practice! … You know what I meant! Just leave my family out of this and listen to me! You are here only to help me rub one out so I can relax, fall asleep, get up at the crack of dawn to make lunches, help Kit with math homework then make it to a presentation I need to knock out of the park in order to beat Laurie Fuller out of a promotion that should’ve been mine to begin with! … I’m sorry … Well, sometimes I don’t know my own strength … Do you need to put some ice on that? … Okay … Excuse me for a moment. I have to take this. Hello? … What was that? Sam Elliott has arrived in the fantasy realm homeless, brooding, neither funny nor witty, needing to borrow 50 bucks and with a slight stench? Oookay, let me just think about–” Tires burn rubber somewhere off in the fantasy realm distance.
7. Wow. Now can you channel my mother taking part in a photo shoot with Terry “my penis lives to photobomb” Richardson? Keep in mind she’s 59, loves sushi, to talk, Trader Joe’s samples, Bill & Hillary, Roddick, Nadal, Venus, the Lakers, the POTUS, the FLOTUS, speed walking and Loehmann’s but hates to fly and the bachelor who chose no one at the end of season five-eighty-who-the-hell-is-keeping-track of “The Bachelor.”
Huh. Ookay. Here goes… Huuhhmmmmmm *deep breath* Huuhhhmmmmmmmm…
“Hell00o … It’s very nice to meet you too, Terry … Well you’re such a sweet young man for saying that. Look at you! You’re so thin. We need to get some meat on those ol’ bones. Believe me, you’ll be even more handsome with the extra ten pounds. And what’s this? … A volcano? Huh. Interesting looking contraption. *sniffs* Smells a little like a skunk. Wow! Just looook at all of the pictures of you and your mother, I’m guessing? … I knew it. I can see the resemblance. And she seems so sweet. I love a child who loves their mother. My kids are just about the sweeee– … Oh! We’re starting? Okay … Smile? Well, of course. I love to smile. 59 years old I am. The lady at the bank couldn’t believe it. *whispers* She thought I was in my forties. I love posing. I do this little thing where I pop my shoulder out. Just like that. Just pop it out. Sometimes I do it without even thinkin’ about it … Oh, you like that? It’s my own little signature move. *whispers* The husband loves it … Oh, wear your glasses? Why sure … Wow, I think we might have the same prescription. These aren’t the most flattering design but what’re ya gonna do … Give a thumb’s up? How’s that? I have little tinge of arthritis in this thumb so it’s a little hard to maneuver … Of course you can get in here too … You wanna wear my sunglasses while I wear your glasses and we’ll pose together? Love it. This is so much fun! Let’s do one with the both of us popping the shoulder… You’re a natural! You should know those sunglasses are Marc Jacobs; found them at Loehmann’s. They were regular $200. *whispers* Got them on sale for 19.99. I really do love that Loehmann’s. The deals you can– Um, Terry? Sweet pea, why is your penis out? … It’s really cool and hip? Now, help me understand, is it just your penis or the entire mood your penis being out creates? … Not sure. Okay, I think it’s time we had a little talk … Yes, it’s probably a good idea you put it away first. Afterall, there’s a chill in the air … Okay, I’m here only to take a few tasteful yet playful photographs to tuck into some cards soon en route to friends, nothing more. Now, I’m very flattered that your attraction to me is so strong that exposing yourself proved to be the only suitable way for you to express it, however, I’m a married woman. 35 years I’ve been married to an amazing man with whom I’ve created two lovely children. It’s actually a very sweet story. We met in Chicago on a bitter, bitter cold day. The husband had been to Vietnam and back. Actually killed a man while he was there. To this day he has no idea what the hell we were even fighting for. *sigh* It’s a very strange world in which we live, Tear. Can I call you ‘Tear?’ Anyway, what was I saying? Oh yes. The day was that kind of day where the cold gets into your bones and I was looking fabulous. Have you ever been to Chicago? ‘Chi-town’ I like to call it. It’s a great city. The lights, the wind, the lake, Michigan Avenue. That was my spot. You should’ve seen me back in the day. People loved my legs. These legs right here. Always got compliments on them. *whispers* Still do. Anyway, the husband and I were both waiting for the El — that’s Chicago’s answer to the subway. The El, short for elevated. Anyway after three years together in Chicago we joined the migration out west, to California; northern to be — Tear? Tear, where are you going? Tear, why are you opening up the window? … Oh. To jump. O-kay. Well then, I assume the shoot is over? I should be off anyway. *whispers* Meeting a friend for lunch.” Aaaaannd scene.
8. Bra! Va! Wow, that was my mother! It felt like she was right here talking and talking and talking. Now, can you channel my father introducing his first capsule collection?
*deep breath* channeling … channel … ing … and I have channeled …
“Fine. Well, these are pants. I guess. You just put them on to cover up your legs. This is a sweater. Keeps you warm when you need to be. Usually how it works. Here are some white t-shirts. These are my high cholesterol pills. Have no clue how they ended up here. *sigh* Golf shoes. To be worn only when golfing. Never in the house or else the shrill of the wife’s voice when she catches you might make you wanna jump in front of a bus that’s moving at Mach speed. These are — Okay, the game’s on. Gotta run.” “Kkssh” is the sound of the Budweiser can being cracked open en route to the recliner. Aaaand scene.
9. How in the hell do you do it?! I ask mainly because you are of course an amazing smock top but a smock top still.
Years of studying, hours upon hours of consuming anything and everything the great Sir Paul Robeson (I knighted him myself) ever uttered, not to mention meticulously dissecting the enviable Mrs. Davis’ approach to the craft and her uncanny ability to transform water into wine every chance she was given.