Maggie and Milly and Molly and May and GAGA
Being of a certain age, I have measured my life out in Kennedy funerals.
And also because I am of a certain age, it seems like all of my childhood idols are dying on me (dropping like flies) on an almost daily basis.
In the past few weeks, Karl Lagerfeld, Lee Radziwell and Peter Tork.
All gone.
If ever there was a time in my life when I felt successful, it was those years when Lagerfeld took over the House of Chanel.
All those gold chains, all those faux pearls, all those big earrings, all those quilted bags-we were high on all that luxury but most of all, we THOUGHT that this shallow, pearly world we were drowning in, well, it would last FOREVER.
Time passed.
Then came Grunge.
Followed by Minimalism.
If personal success was spelled for me by removing one ginormous, gold clip earring from one ear while answering my landline phone sitting on my boutique's desk...then failure certainly was defined by the sad knock on the door bringing minimalism into my world.
Personally, minimalism turned into scarcity for me but I am still alive, still here.
Peter Tork.
Sorry, I am still deep in grief with this one.
Another Monkee leaving us.
He was in his 77th year when he passed on last week and I was only 10 years old when he and his fellow Monkees were responsible for that little twitch that turned into my own personal sexual awakening.
Many moons ago, Hollywood and probably the Hearst people created these paper tabloids known as MOVIE MAGAZINES.
And these publications were everywhere.
Everywhere housewives visited whenever they were allowed out of their houses.
This was my official introduction to Princess Lee Radziwell otherwise known as the kid sister to Jacqueline Lee Bouvier Kennedy Onassis.
Lee Radziwell was the epitome of white privilege.
She had the Best Of Everything.
She hung out with people who were the Best Of Everything.
She and her sister were an education for this little girl reading all about Jackie and Lee and the elite circles they ran in during the middle of the 20th century.
Nothing was elite in my little world growing up in Stoney Creek.
And I was a little girl besotted by fashion, style and the arts.
Truman Capote did not choose to have his famous Black and White Ball in Stoney Creek.
And W. H. Auden, well, he chose the White House at the First Lady's invitation as his venue for his poetry reading....no problem...Stoney Creek didn't have a venue for great poets anyway.
I feel badly for young girls today.
Their sheroes are shallow.
And that brings me to LADY GAGA.
She bestowed the title of Lady upon herself.
Obviously, I am not a fan but that really isn't the point here.
It is another century and I am 63 years old.
I am a grown woman now and I am not a little monster in search of a Mommy Monster.
Or is it spelled Mommie?
Lady Gaga won an AcademyAward for Best Song at the Oscar ceremony on Sunday night for the song, appropriately, titled: SHALLOW.
The title for the song is perfect for the persona she has created as a performance artist.
There is no deep end here.
'Nuff said.
Lee Radziwell was buried yesterday in New York.
There were 250 invited guests.
Like I said, in the beginning of this post, I have measured my life out in Kennedy funerals.
Even in death, Lee Radziwell was still an education for me.
The poem: Maggie and Milly and Molly and May penned by e.e. cummings was read at her service, I was not familiar with this piece.
I am now.
What joy, what beauty it has brought me and so I shall offer it to you here.
maggie and milly and molly and may
went down to the beach (to play one day)
and maggie discovered a shell that sang,
so sweetly, she couldn't remember her
troubles and,
milly befriended a stranded star
whose rays five languid fingers were;
and molly was chased by a
horrible thing
which raced sideways while blowing
bubbles: and
may came home with a smooth
round stone
as small as a world and as large
as alone.
For whatever we lose (like a you
and me)
It's always ourselves we find in the sea
Lee Radziwell (1933-2019)
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