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Culture on the Cheap
Fettle Fit For A Dog Shit Queen
One of the more vexatious questions a dog shit queen has to address is what to wear. When I am mixing with my people here in Greenpoint a simple tank top and skirt combo will suffice, but what about the occasional diplomatic affair(s) I attend outside the confines of the Garden Spot? Since there are no precedents for me to follow, I pretty much make it up as I go along.
In this solitary respect I envy the office fraus I used to have the honor of calling “co-workers”. The parameters set for them (and myself) were clear cut: take any drab article of clothing you grouse about outlaying money for (and would never, EVER wear on your free time) and presto you have suitable business attire. The one thing I have noticed about people wearing office attire is they rarely smile. I, on the other hand, never wear office attire and usually can be seen smiling. Perhaps there is a relationship between the two? I certainly think so.
Anyhoo, this week I scored a vestment fit for a (dog shit) queen at (where else) the junk shop.
Thursday, August 23, 2007
After being holed-up in the apartment for three days (sick, sleep-deprived and/or waiting for Verizon to install a second line) I went to work. Grudgingly. This was the first day I have felt near 100% and was pretty grumpy about spending quality time working. To bastardize John Lennon:
Work is what happens when I am busy doing other things.
And as I was busy doing other things (at work) a customer pointed out something I found of interest.
I tried it on atop of my clothing and it fit. I liked it so much I found a couple of pink shoe laces with Alpha Kappa Alpha emblazoned on them and strapped myself in. Half of my three hour shift was spent being a Greenpoint Marie Antoinette (or as I would prefer, Madame de Poopie Dour). On a lark I drug my person and my eight foot long train from behind the counter and shouted at my boss:
Let them eat shit!
He was amused. No one else got it— then again, I once wore a pair of fairy wings to the grocery store and no one “got” that either. As was the usual case, my shift was spent dealing with hagglers and hipsters— mostly assuring him (or her) that the jewelry in their hand(s) was INDEED real sterling silver. No one found a blue-haired woman wearing 18th century apparel hawking jewelry the least bit odd until…
a customer from last week came in. I remembered this woman because she was a particularly hard-nosed haggler. Nonetheless, I liked her. Customers with taste are very rare in my line of work: most raise an unholy fuss over outlaying more than $1.00 for some ugly piece of shit or another. This woman had taste, and for this reason alone I would cut her a fat discount on the stuff she wanted.
Our haggling session was a little more contentious than the previous one, but hardly hostile. Once it had been established that I was not going to go lower than $16.00 for the stuff she selected, she relented and shelled out the dough. That’s when she noticed what I was wearing.
Customer: Can I come behind the counter and look at what you’re wearing?
Me: Sure.
Customer (coming behind the counter): Is that a costume piece or is it vintage?
Me: We get a lot of costumes here, so I’m going with that.
Customer (handling my train): Can I give you a piece of advice?
Me: Sure.
Customer: I own and operate an antique store in Los Angeles. This is authentic.
Me: Really? I was planning on wearing it at the BARC Dog Parade this October. Of course I could have someone hold the train up so it doesn’t drag along the street.
Customer: (look of abject horror)
This is Greenpoint, not Los Angeles. I have seen shit here that would make even the fruitiest of Golden State fruitcakes go “Whoa man, that’s weird!” I know this because I once lived in the City of Angels. This dress might be an antique there, but in Greenpoint this here item is Dog Shit Queen duds.
That’s why I saw fit to sell it to myself for the very reasonable price of $10.00.
Miss Heather
P.S.: I’d like to give a shout-out to this customer. I hope you made it back to L.A. safe and sound. It was a pleasure serving you.
Comments
6 Comments on Fettle Fit For A Dog Shit Queen
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laterain on
Sun, 26th Aug 2007 6:53 pm
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greenpointers on
Mon, 27th Aug 2007 7:56 am
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missheather on
Mon, 27th Aug 2007 10:42 am
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greenpointers on
Mon, 27th Aug 2007 2:02 pm
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missheather on
Mon, 27th Aug 2007 2:19 pm
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greenpointers on
Tue, 28th Aug 2007 7:09 am
I can’t believe you’re not going to post a picture of you wearing this fabulous outfit!!!
I think that, if I was shopping in a shop like yours in Brooklyn, I would act like I didn’t notice what you were wearing, no matter WHAT it was, for fear of being “outed” as the uncool spawn of Staten Island that i really am . . .
Hey Miss Heather, love your blog but this post is breaking my heart. As a lover of vintage and antique clothing I really hate to see this 19th c train ruined. There are many repros out there that you could buy quite cheaply that would achieve the same thing. Sell it on eBay you could make a nice hundred bucks and a collector would be very happy to give it a home and preserve it. I would happily help find a buyer for you if you didn’t want to sell it on eBay. Feel free to email me. Thanks and I hope I don’t offend you, but I just really hate to see this piece ruined if I can possibly help it.
I get what you’re saying, but what’s the point of owning something this cool and NOT wearing it? I could honestly care less about the money. That said, I am NOT going to let it drag the ground or anything, so what’s the harm? The plight of homeless animals is more important than an article of clothing (be it antique or otherwise) anyway.
The plight of homeless animals is more important than an article of clothing (be it antique or otherwise) anyway. Of course that’s true, I definitely didn’t think I insinuated otherwise – you could donate the loot from the sale of it to BARC which would probably way appreciated… But I guess I’ll just have to be happy you won’t let it drag on the ground. Wear it in good health!
Greenpointers: No offense taken and I (hope) none was given (to you by me).
I will not bore you to death with my (many) family-induced neuroses, but let’s just say I grew up in a household where coveting stuff was considered pleasure. My childhood was like living in a museum: look, don’t touch. When one is taught to look and not to touch, the simple enjoyment of life (in all its joy, pain and absurdity) is lost. As is compassion towards “non-stuff”, READ: other people, little fuzzy things with whiskers, etc.
You have a point about auctioning this item and giving the proceeds to BARC. Why not do so AFTER the parade?
Me thinks you have one GREAT idea, fellow Greenpointer! THANKS!!!
Naturally, I will give you 100% credit for this.
Takes a lot to offend me, no worries!
Family induced neurosis aside, glad to hear the little fuzzy things with whiskers will get some extra dough! I posted this at a forum for a group I’m a founding member of – Vintage Fashion Guild – so definitely give me a heads up when you do decide to sell as I’d like to see the auction get as much attention as it can for the pups in need.
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and oh, if you want a pic to show with your comment, go get a gravatar!
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