Eboni 🍑and🍑Ironi 🍑 Georgia 🍑Peaches 🍑

Chlöe Bailey Blessing The Net With Some New Flicks

“Little Richard scared my grandmother in 1957. I was eleven years old, and on my way to her house for dinner with my parents and had just shoplifted a record in the five-and-dime. Mom and dad hadn’t even noticed. Easy pickings – the 45 of “Lucille” on the Specialty label. My favourite tune. I felt happily defiant in the backseat of the car with the sharp edge of the single jabbing my stomach beneath the sweater. Once inside Mama’s, I made a beeline to her out-of-date hi-fi and let it roll. “Lu-CILLE! You won’t do your sister’s will!” came blaring through the house like a rabid pack of dogs. It was as if a Martian had landed. My grandmother stopped in her tracks, face ashen, beyond comprehension. The antiques rattled. My parents looked stunned. In one magical moment, every fear of my white family had been laid bare: an uninvited, screaming, flamboyant black man was in the living room. Even Dr Spock hadn’t warned them about this.” / From the book Role Models (2010) by John Waters / Happy heavenly birthday to Mr Show Business Personified … the Georgia Peach … the Bronze Liberace … his Royal Highness, the divine Little Richard (né Richard Wayne Penniman, 5 December 1932 - 9 May 2020)! We’ll never see Little Richard’s like again. My favourite song by his will always be “Directly from My Heart” (1959). Oh, and “The Girl Can’t Help It” (1958) of course!

some of my most natural selfies. i miss the beach but it’s 50 degrees out 💔

this shelf makes me so happy 😭✨

🤎🖤

With the weather getting warmer and warmer, here's your one and only warning from your resident Georgian.

Stay out of Lake Lanier.

Feeling extremely sexy

I finally watched the 2023 documentary Little Richard: I Am Everything. Director Lisa Cortés succeeds in making it feel cinematic, and the archival performance footage of Richard in his prime alone is worthwhile. The best “talking head” contributors are Richard’s late exotic dancer girlfriend Lee Angel and pioneering transgender nightclub entertainer Sir Lady Java - and John Waters, of course! (Waters recalls he used to shoplift Richard’s records as a kid, and that his signature pencil-line mustache is a direct “twisted tribute”). By comparison, big name guests like Mick Jagger and Tom Jones mostly offer show biz platitudes (and Billy Porter is self-aggrandizing).

One thing it accomplishes nicely: so often hidebound rock critics and filmmakers get hung up on "who influenced who" which descends into "who ripped off who" as if it’s always a negative thing. It's common knowledge that when Richard was just starting out as a performer without his persona cemented, two flaming queer Black male rhythm and blues musicians - Billy Wright and Esquerita - inspired his musical approach and appearance (the towering, processed conk, thick make-up and mustache). As one of the talking heads savvily argues, Richard didn’t “steal” from them: rather, they provided a mirror for Richard to see his true self. Similarly, Cortés gives Ike Turner his due. A musical expert notes that Richard's piano playing was beholden to Turner’s, something Richard admitted (he raved about the impact of hearing "Rocket 88", the 1951 Kings of Rhythm track widely considered the first-ever rock'n'roll single). Yes, Ike was a monster to Tina, but his trailblazing musical genius must be acknowledged.

The finale where Cortés demonstrates Richard’s effect on modern pop culture with a montage presumably meant to represent his spiritual descendants (Cher! Harry Styles! Lady GaGa! Lizzo!) is misbegotten. Are we meant to think anyone who EVER wore sequins owes Little Richard a debt? (At least the inclusion of Lil Nas X - a modern flamboyant Black male performer – is apt). Richard was instilled with a sense of shame and guilt as a child, and throughout his life alternated between extreme hedonism and extreme fundamentalist Christianity. Sadly, as one commentator argues, Richard set a great liberating example for other people but never truly enjoyed that liberation himself.

Seeeeesterrrrsssssss!☺️💕🫶🏾

@berberriescorner

Dirk Benedict as Dusty Tyree in Follow That Car (1980)