Quick! Someone lend me a whistle and crop-top! July 15, 2006Posted by BiB in Uncategorized.
Tags: France Gall, sucettes
Actually, no time to blog PROPER rubbish today, so just a couple more France Gall and youtube moments. (God it’s hard to resist the youtube temptation, nicht wahr?)
I have to admit I’m struggling to believe, innocent or not, that old Francey didn’t have a hint of an inkling of a smidgen of an idea that this song didn’t have just the tiniest double entendre. Then there’s Alizée’s not-that-good version of, “Ella, elle l’a,” but, gosh, isn’t Alizée a babe? She almost makes me want to be heterosexual. Although I don’t know if it’s the design of the bikini in this snap of her or just my inexperience in the breast department, but her glands look a little picassoesquely far apart to me.
Anyway, to make sure Alizée doesn’t turn me into a red-blooded hetero any time soon, there’s the first of Berlin’s two Gay Prides today, so I’ll probably go and blow my whistle, shout, “We’re here, we’re queer, we’re not going shopping,” leer at the policemen and stock up on gay genes for the winter. This Gay Pride mark I – ‘cos you need two, and two weekends running – coincides with the Love Parade, which I’ve never seen, and I might go and have a peek at that, although I’m already having flashbacks to the Goa float at the Carnival of Cultures, with seven 17-year-olds dancing behind a lorry with someone blowing bubbles through a bubble-machine. Not majorly impressed.
Gay Pride isn’t actually called Gay Pride here. Today’s thing is the Stadtfest. Next week’s is CSD (Christopher Street Day). And why not, for the word pride has surely had its day. And I can’t say I’m actually “proud” to be gay. But then I suppose Gay Don’t-Really-Care or Gay Most-of-the-Time-I-Forget hasn’t got the same ring. Then again, the word pride had its uses in the old days. I remember once going to purchase jeans with my first boyfriend in Leamington Spa, or perhaps Warwick, when we were at the gooily, can’t-not-touch-each-other-for-more-than-half-a-second, in-love stage. Our jeans vendor was a friendly queen who enjoyed engaging with a pair of poofs in love. Once the transaction was done, with much help from the aforementioned employee, he bade us farewell and hollered a valedictory, “Wear them with pride!” If we’d had even the shadow of a doubt that he might not be a friend of Dorothy, we didn’t now…