A Thanksgiving Memory

As we approach the day of giving thanks, I think of all the little things that encourage creativity and make life a more interesting place. One of these even comes with it's own Thanksgiving memory: DeMert's Aerolak, "pure lacquer hairspray". Yes, my lovelies, just as the name implies, Aerosol Lacquer.

In fact, this weapons grade beauty product has been restricted since 2006, no longer being available in 15 states (most of New England plus California). Don't know whether that's due to the aerosol element or one of these intriguing, industrial sounding ingredients:

Legend has it that you can even waterproof clothing with this stuff.





Aero lak and I first met on a Wednesday, Thanksgiving eve in 19...well, let's keep some mystery and just say Many years ago. 
Picture, if you will: The basement of a downtown NYC nightclub, it's 10 p.m. and the place is buzzing with preparations for a late night fashion show. I am perched on a stool, trying not to crease the white leather straightjacket dress that I have been strapped into while a hairdresser teases my bleached, jaw length hair to glorious, spiky heights. I can't lift my arms, so she waves someone over to cover my makeup job (white skin, 2" of black eyeliner, orange lips, the usual) and then does something I'd never seen her do before- she puts out her cigarette. I hear "this is serious stuff" and for the next 30 seconds I'm enveloped in a cloud of aerosol and varnish. A flurry of fanning it dry and I was done.  I was a punk Phyllils Diller. It was Beautiful. Yes, with a capital B. There has to be a photo somewhere, I don't have it, but this one (same place, maybe a month before) will give you an idea. Subtle, huh?

Cut to 5 a.m., I am still looking downtown high fashion from the neck up. My hair is still perfect, the makeup still holds.  A taxi has tried to deliver me to my teeny rented room (seriously, a converted storage closet) on the Upper West Side, but Columbus Ave is blocked, so I'll walk the last stretch. People are milling about in the cold, pre-dawn air and spotlights are everywhere. What is this?
At the south end of the Natural History Museum on 77th Street, I see a giant creature, maybe 30 feet high and wide enough to occupy most of the street. It's huge, bulbous body is orange with black...lightning bolts? It's long neck stretches toward me, ending in a single, starburst eye. A cyclops space creature? Held to the ground with ropes and pulleys, it bobs and weaves a bit, reinforcing the impression that it's alive.  I feel like it's staring me down.
The hour, the cold, the strange, surreality of it all has me fascinated and I realize I'm stepping carefully as I creep around to view it from the side. That's when I realize that I've been spellbound by...ready?

Garfield's butt and tail.

Suddenly, the spell is broken, it's cold, it's late/early and we're all excited to be witnessing the inflation of balloons for the Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade later that morning. A classic New York moment. That's when I become aware of people looking strangely at me in all of my demi-monde, avant garde grandeur (a child points, a tourist nervously gives me wide berth, the usual) and I know that, for them, Garfield is not the strangest thing on this street. I smile, take in the moment and go home to crash.

A helpful hint? Don't fall asleep in this stuff, it took three washings and a full bottle of conditioner to get it all out. 
There's another story about Aerolak, but maybe we'll save that for Christmas ;)
Here's wishing you all a happy Thanksgiving!
XO PS