MOTO NGANTOK BLOG

If you went to movies in the mid-90s, you probably left a theater more than once thinking Julia Ormond was the most beautiful woman in the world. She has the kind of face that statues envy. There is something so classically British about her, that combination of strength and refinement. Also, I’m a sucker for that dark-hair, pale-skin combo (blame Wonder Woman those damn hot pants). For a moment in the 90s it seemed Julia would be our next great big screen heroine. She starred alongside the biggest boys in the business: Brad Pitt, Harrison Ford, Richard Gere, Sean Connery. And then, like a puff of smoke, she was gone.

Of course she wasn’t really gone, she just stopped being the flavor of the month. But she never stopped being talented or gorgeous. In fact, over the years her beauty has deepened. And again, in true British fashion, she has let time ripen her instead of fought it needle and scalpel. Those lines are earned, they speak of past loves and lessons learned. Experience, my friends, is sexy. It means you know things, have seen things, are good at things. One of those things is flirting with Eve Best on “Nurse Jackie.” The scene from this week’s episode crackled with delicious sexual tension. See, she’s still got it. Happy weekend, all.

I’ve decided that my undying love for a woman in a tuxedo can be traced back to one distinct moment in time: The first time I saw the boob flash scene from “Just One of the Guys.” Don’t pretend you do not know what I am talking about, fellow pervs. That one simple scene rocked my preteen I-had-no-idea-I-was-gay-yet world to its core. To. Its. Core.

But I think I’m really getting ahead of myself here. In the past week Jezebel has lovingly paid homage to and interviewed the female director of “Just One of the Guys,” the 80s teen girl-in-drag comedy. Slyly subversive yet steadfastly silly, the story followed a pretty student reporter who thinks she is being passed over for boys, so then dresses like one to prove her point. I loved this movie. Part of it was that it was played on a seemingly unending loop on HBO. As a pre-internet kid, I found out about the birds and bees, in large part, from our family’s pirated HBO signal. Let me tell you, learning about The Gay from premium cable can make for many, many confused years.

But that’s why a movie like “Just One of the Guys” meant so much to me, even though my full realization would come years later. It fucked with gender while acknowledging gender inequality and engendered my continual confusion of Ralph Macchio with a dapper butch girl.

As an aspiring writer (yes, even back then), I sympathized intrinsically with Terry’s predicament. The injustice! The sexism! As an aspiring gay (but, again, it took me forever to figure it out), I was unmistakably drawn to Joyce Hyser more in drag. Not because she looked like a boy, but because she looked like a really cute girl in boys’ clothing.

Which brings me back to the boob flash. Holy shit, the boob flash. Teen movies have never been shy about their lusty intentions and love of the jiggle. So a little skin is almost always to be expected. But the unexpectedly feminist narrative behind “Just One of the Boys” makes the scene so very powerful and so entirely unforgettable. In fact, at this moment, when declaring her femininity and love all at once, it almost seems a radical act. Also, damn, those are some really nice breasts. [Again, NSFW – but you know you can’t resist.]

p.s. Don’t even get me started about the Sherilyn Fenn and the sock scene down the pants scene. We could be here for days.

p.p.s. Joyce Hyser, call me. And bring the tux.

This is canon. This is not just a ship. This is pinky holding, head resting, sex is not dating maintext. Is it a tease? Of course. But everyone is very clearly in on the game. And, I’ll be completely honest, I love it. You see, I know Brittany and Santana will never be Rachel and Finn or Will and Emma. Nor would I really want them to because, come on, those couples are kind of boring. (Nothing against Lea Michele or Jayma Mays; they’re both delightful.) I’m just overjoyed at the subversive scrumptiousness of two popular cheerleaders secretly going at it like bunnies.

Of course, time will tell if all this teasing is just that, a tease. That Brittany and Santana have slept together is established. If we’ll ever see it, well, that’s entirely another.

Heather Morris (Brittany, or Ms. Dolphins Are Just Gay Sharks if you’re nasty), had some less than encouraging thoughts on the subject when she spoke with The Advocate:

On the big tease:
I’m with you because I’m always anticipating getting a script that’s going to be about our love story line, but I don’t think I ever will. Brittany and Santana are just best friends, and you know how sometimes best friends tickle each others’ arms and hold pinkies?

On if we’ll ever see Brittana makeout:
I don’t think so. I asked Ryan about that and he said there was no way. He said that since we’re a prime-time television show, he didn’t want to do that.

On the Brittany-Santana relationship:
It’s like Brittany’s a lost puppy dog and Santana’s her owner, so she follows Santana around and does whatever she tells her to do because she doesn’t know how to do things for herself. Naya and I have talked about their relationship, and we do think Brittany’s just dumb and crazy about Santana, like, “I’m her best friend and I love her so much!”

No way? Really, Ryan Murphy? Really? It’s not like broadcast television never shows women making out. In fact, around November and May it seems almost every female character comes down with a severe case of the Sapphicitis. But, whatever. It’s your show. Grumble.

That disappointment aside, what interests me most is Heather’s take on the Brittana dynamic. It’s that puppy dog love where you just want to touch and hold and possibly shag with your best friend constantly. Because, honey, that’s not how all best friends act – just pretty much the gay ones.

So keep on holding those pinkies, Brittana. And keep on leaning on your other’s shoulders. We know it’s real. So there.

Oh, kittens. This makes me so, so…tired. I’m already tired. Not that these gals don’t all seem perfectly nice and maybe genuine and possibly even hot. It’s just the packaging, the promotion, the pretty much everything makes me want to go eat a sandwich. In fact, watch this while I go make a sandwich.

I mean, how I’m not sure if you caught it but the preview stresses that these are REAL! LIVE! LESBIANS! No, really, real lesbians – real ones. We swear, they’re real. Look, they even kiss girls. On camera. REAL! But then they pick possibly the least real place on the planet (no offense, L.A., but you know it’s true) to set their show. To wit, almost every cast member – except for Papi Rose – is in this business we call show. So, yeah, just like every other lesbian you know.

But while the behind-the-scenes preview is one thing, the cast bios on the Showtime website are quite another. What aspiring romance novelist wrote this stuff? “Tracy is every girl's dream…” “Jill is the girl all the guys want, but only one girl has.” “But Rose is altar-skittish and may be too wild to be tamed by one flame.” Now that’s some “Sweet Valley High”-worthy writing right there.

Also, when the preview wasn’t emphasizing its realness, it was pumping up its drama. Did you know there’ll be drama? Girls, together, lesbian girls, tattoos – DRA-MAAAAA! But then what would you expect from the true story of six lesbians who live in Los Angeles and have their lives taped for Showtime to find out what happens when lesbians stop being polite and start getting real.

Other interesting statement from the promo:
1. “This has never been done before.”
Um, yes it has. “Curl Girls.” “Gimme Sugar.” Yeah, it really has.
2. “I have faith that the show will really accurately portray who we are and want to celebrate us.”
Wait, you saw “The L Word,” right? I mean, especially that last season – the one with the dead girl in the pool. Celebrate!
3. “I could be fucked.”
So could we all, so could we all.

The only really good thing about promo is it never mentioned Mama Chaiken by name. But they did mentioned it’s “from the creator of ‘The L Word’” twice, so that pretty much negates any semblance of humility. In the end, I’m just don’t feel like I need to see the lives of a bunch of pretty, well-heeled, finely polished L.A. lesbians to in any way validate, illuminate or elucidate my life. Will I watch to see cute girls kissing? Maybe. What can I say, my deeply shallow side sometimes wrests control of the remote away from my dorky PBS side. But both sides insist we fast forward through the drama.

p.s. I know this is probably a terrible thing to say and she is undoubtedly a lovely person, but Nikki (the non-tattooed blonde one) looks like she wants to EAT OUR SOULS. Seriously, she wants to suck them out of our eye sockets and spread them on toast. Toast which she will then feed her dog because, come on, that woman hasn’t eaten a carb since the Clinton administration.

I have had very involved, very sweaty dreams that did not result in as much wish fulfillment as this picture. Meryl Streep with Penelope Cruz , no check that – a topless Penelope Cruz. Oh, swoon. And they’re making beautiful picture together for a good cause, namely the international (RED) campaign to fight AIDS in Africa. But it doesn’t stop there. Penelope brought a bunch of her friends together (along with the incomparable Ms. Streep), to help her in her guest editing stint of the May 2010 issue of Vogue Paris. I want to go to there.

To be a fly on that wall. I realized, while studiously pouring over the photo, that all of the assembled actresses have played gay except, I believe, Gwyneth Paltrow (though she cross-dressed in “Shakespeare in Love,” for what that’s worth). So that knowledge makes the pairing even more delicious.

How are we supposed to process all the gorgeous in this picture?

In this picture Gwyneth is working hard to make amends for not having played gay before.

This picture is a perfect example of how a T-Shirt should be worn. Seriously, take notes.

I can’t wait to see her kiss Annette Bening, even if this picture makes Julianne looks like a lost waif in a wind tunnel.

And finally, this picture just makes me want to hug Penelope for bringing this much pretty together in one place. Also, for not wearing pants.

If I must see red this Monday, this is truly the best possible way.

Everyone is talking about french fashion label Carvens revamp by it's new designer Guillaume Henry! Founded in Paris in 1945 by Madame Carven de Tommasobu, Carmen has until recently solely focused on couture. Cool, chic and not too crazy expensive (You can pick up a dress for £250).

So tomorrow marks my fourth blogiversary. Yep, folks, I’ve been at this for four fucking years. Dayum. They say if you give a bunch of monkeys with typewriters long enough eventually they’ll give you Shakespeare. Well, seems I need some more time with my keyboard. But, hey, it’s good to have goals. My first year, I thanked everyone from all over this big, crazy world who comes to visit every day. My second year, I wrote a completely unsolicited FAQ. Last year, OK, last year I was too busy drooling over Yvonne Strahovski in a tank top to be bothered to commemorate any dumb anniversary. But this year, I’ll address what is one of my most frequently e-mailed questions: Will you post a picture of yourself? The short answer: No. The longer answer: Still no, but that doesn’t mean I won’t at some point – maybe.

There are several reasons for this, but mostly it’s that I am an intensely private person. I was a very shy child, grew into pretty shy teenager and have spent my adult life – through chosen profession and personal work – trying to overcome the inclination. But, believe me, it’s hardwired. Still simple aversion to the spotlight isn’t the only reason. I think when you don’t know what the author looks like, it make you focus more on the words. Now, this could be good or bad depending on the quality of the words. But visuals are so powerful, they make it easy to project personality and prejudge. And finally, I stay anonymous because everyone loves a mystery. Using one’s imagination is hot.

But, in the interest of further disclosure, here are five true things about me that you may (though more than likely may not) have known:

1. I am Asian-American (but then, I’ve mentioned that before).
2. I have long hair. No, really long. OK, not Crystal Gayle long, but long.
3. I wear at least four pieces of jewelry every day: Three earrings and a silver ring I’ve had since high school.
4. I never wear dresses. The last time was to a friend’s wedding – we are no longer close.
5. I have pointy ears. Not Spock pointy, just friendly woodland elf pointy.

So there you have it – a little more about me, your humble host. As always, these kinds of milestones make me stop and reflect. I’ve spent the same amount of time writing this blog as I did in college. Man, you’d think I’d get a diploma or at the very least a bronzed beer bong or something. But, in all seriousness, it still boggles my little mind to think that what started as a whim four years ago has grown into this. I am continually and eternally thankful that you come back day after day and share your stories and humor and disagreements and joy with me. So, thank you. Thank you for reading. Thank you for emailing. Thank you for following me on Twitter. Four more years? We’ll see. But it has been my great pleasure to have you along with me for the last four.

Yesterday I got a last minute invitation for
Addy van den Krommenacker's show in Rotterdam that evening.

It was a amazing show! And it was much longer then I expected!
Apart from the slippery floor at some points and a music crash,
everything went very well.
He had very good feminine models, with shapes! *hooray*
This is the kind of model I love to see.
Addy with all the models after the finally.



Addy with Daphne Bunskoek before the show.


There were a lot of prints on the fabrics, polka dots, leopard, flowers, graphical.
I have to say, normally Leopard can look tacky very easily, but he has used it on a
beautiful red fabric and very subtle, it looked gorgeous.

Some examples:

You know what I love? I love that you guys know me so well. Like, for instance, this photo above. Several people alerted me to this most fantastic Tina Fey-Mariska Hargitay-Sheryl Crow sandwich this week. It warms my heart that you know me so well. Of course, that could also mean I’m predictable. But, if predictable means having women send me a picture of what appears to be Tina copping a feel on Mariska as Sheryl watches approvingly, then color me predictable. Also, extra special Straight Gals Acting Like Gay Gals-points to Tina and Sheryl for getting a jump on their Lesbian Twin Syndrome wardrobe.

Since you shared with me, it only seems fair that I share with you. So how about some more SGALGG goodness, with a little GGALGG gayness thrown in for good measure.

*UPDATE: OK, OK, here is the skinny on Tilda and Frances. The photos is indeed a candid. They’re talking (very closely) at the 2008 Toronto International Film Festival premiere of “Burn After Reading.” You can see a progression of them together here.