Author Archives: Alan Ilagan

Secrets of My Success

This post may come off as me tooting my own horn, but since when have I been concerned about anything I do coming across as such? Strike up the band! This is actually more of a gentle guide for anyone who needs it, as I had a brief recollection of a question I used to ask people when I was 21 years old. At that time in my life, I just wanted to know the secret to adulthood, and I whittled it down to one question I would ask everyone I met who happened to be over 40 years old. Now that I’ve passed that demarcation, it’s only fair that I answer to the best of my ability. Here is what I wish I’d known two decades ago, as it might have set my mind at ease and lessened the constant worry and fear I carried with me for much of my working life. It’s a simple percentage of what needs to be done to maintain a job, and the rules apply for just about every position I can think of:

–       70% is showing up.

–       20% is dressing up.

–       10% is shutting up.

Showing up: 70%– This was a lesson I learned in one of my first college courses. One of my professors made it known early on that just showing up to class would go a long way toward passing it, and being that physics played a larger role in that Astronomy class than I counted on, my presence was my only chance of making it through. Since then, I’ve seen far too often that showing up on a consistent and timely manner is more important than being the best at anything. I’ll take a semi-decent performer who’s there every day over a stellar performer who only deigns to appear now and then.

Dressing up: 20%– The old adage that one should dress for the job one wants is old for good reason. For the most part, dressing up only enhances opportunity to be taken seriously and advancing. People can argue (not wrongfully) that what one wears should not be a factor in how one performs, but the reality is that it does matter. To ignore it and claim that without a dress code anything goes is to make a fatal error in getting ahead. Just because you don’t think it should matter doesn’t mean it won’t. To put effort into one’s wardrobe and appearance is a show of respect to everyone who comes into contact with you, and that sort of thing makes a good impression on bosses and supervisors.

Shutting up: 10%– Despite the bravura of my voice here, I’ve always known when to shut my mouth and remain silent. It is often better to keep quiet and not say anything about the tiny trivial matters that bother you during the day. If one makes a habit out of saying everything all the time, when the moment comes for something important to be told, why would anyone even bother to listen? Too many people talk far too much, and most of the time it’s to their detriment. Listening – that’s the real secret to making one’s way in the world.

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A Literally-Lofty Goal: The Australian Tree Fern

Every time I walk into the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum the want and the desire come flooding back: I covet the tree ferns. There are four, one in each corner of the grand central courtyard, and each one towers upward, stretching to the ceiling windows and unfurling their magnificent fronds over the space, offering delicate shade and gorgeous designs of green against the soft-hued stone. They immediately induce peace, halting the rush of everyday life and hushing the noise of the outside world. They echo a time gone by, when we paused to indulge in simply existing, when it was enough to sit on a bench and just be. Of course, they go back to long before then too, when a different terrain was in place and when ancient species roamed the land.

I’m told there are some places where these hardy denizens have colonized and become ubiquitous to the point of invasiveness. That’s certainly not the case in upstate New York or New England, where one fall’s day could easily fell the tallest fern. And so we place them inside, coddled and pampered in the greenhouse environs they prefer. That may make my personal cultivation of them an impossibility, seeing as how I do not live in a humid greenhouse, nor have access to a sun room where such conditions might be approximated. Still, if I happen to find a small specimen at Faddegon’s I may give it a whirl. Who knows, our living room might provide just enough light to make a pleasing home. It certainly works for us.

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‘American Life’ A Decade & A Half Later

Listening to the title track of Madonna’s 2003 album ‘American Life’ fifteen years after its debut, I still get goosebumps. It’s just as jarring, seering, and provocative as it was when it first premiered, and perhaps even more resonant when one thinks of our country’s state today. Madonna couldn’t have known (could she?) what we were in store for, but the album’s political concerns with consumerism, selfishness, and work ethic holds up even better all these years later. On April 21, 2003, it suffered under the post 9/11 nationalism that spawned one of the worst thought-out wars in our history, but in retrospect Madonna gets the last laugh. 

While a fan favorite and semi-critical-darling, the album was widely viewed as disappointing, certainly by Madonna standards, and the absence of a hot lead single (ignoring the soundtrack-throwaway ‘Die Another Day’) did nothing to help that. In a way, this perceived ‘failure’ would lead to even greater things, such as the ‘Confessions on a Dancefloor’ album. But that’s to ignore the intrinsic charms of ‘American Life’ on its own, and its merits are as magnificent as they are mixed. 

Back then, the world felt in peril. Our innocence had been robbed. Madonna offered criticism, commentary, and a voice of reflection backed by folk electronica. The juxtaposition of simple folk melodies with the modern electronic flourishes, along with some of Madonna’s most distorted vocal effects combined for a sonic landscape unlike any she’d ever conjured, even in the ‘Music’ album

‘American Life’ Tracklisting:
  1. American Life
  2. Hollywood
  3. I’m So Stupid
  4. Love Profusion
  5. Nobody Knows Me
  6. Nothing Fails
  7. Intervention
  8. X-static Process
  9. Mother and Father
  10. Die Another Day
  11. Easy Ride

Instagram rumor has it that Madonna is once again working with her ‘American Life’ producer Mirwais on her upcoming album. While I enjoy what they have already accomplished together, I do like when she branches out. Still, perhaps returning to this well is a good thing. As she sings in ‘Easy Ride‘, life goes round and round just like a circle…

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Easter Parade, Delayed

With all of the nasty weather this spring, the sickness and the hold-ups, I didn’t get to watch our usual Easter viewing treat ‘Easter Parade’ until long after the fact, but it’s better to document it now than never, as it makes for a perfectly fine spring viewing party whether or not it’s a little after-the-fact. It won’t be anyone’s greatest cinematic masterpieces, but Judy Garland and Fred Astaire together can’t be all bad, and it’s a delightful confection for a rainy day when the technicolor outfits are more than enough to satisfy the desire for inspiration. 

My heart yearns to be in a time when hats were as fabulous as they were commonplace. It also longs for a feather-accented outfit like Ann Miller wears in one delicious dance sequence. 

Mostly, though, I wish the “Happiest Musical Ever Made” held more than the power of suggestion and inspiration, that we could set a day to music and make all our problems go away. Until it does, I’ll keep hoping… and dressing up…

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Salomon Diaz for Calvin Klein Underwear

It’s been more than a hot minute since we’ve had a notable face front for Calvin Klein underwear, but Salomon Diaz may change that. In a clear bid for future Hunk of the Day status, Mr. Diaz slips into his Calvins and fills them out so nicely he’s all but guaranteed an HOD post in the coming weeks. Until then, enjoy this red-hot sneak-preview. 

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Rising From a Rain Haze

It’s 4/20.

{Insert requisite pot joke here.}

Now that we’ve moved beyond that, let’s also hopefully have moved beyond my recent bout with the flu, and our recent bout with endless awful weather. At the time of this writing, my flu has limped mostly away, but the day is soaked with a vicious downpour so I’m not going anywhere anyway. By the time this gets publicly posted, however, I’m hoping to be in happier spirits and better places, so my eye is on that. In the meantime, may all this rain be healing, and may it fortify the land to give us a beautiful crop of summer foliage and flowers. 

Not all rainy days are washouts. Some give flights to fancy, others give rise to creative urges and exploration. A few simply pause the relentless rush of everyday activities, forcing us inside into contemplation and rumination. I am grateful for the respite. That outside mess can wait. 

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Boston Family Weekend Part 3

My favorite time of the day in the condo was at hand, as the afternoon sun was slanting through the bedroom bay window just as we returned from our museum visit (and a bit of shopping). We planned on meeting my Mom and Emi for a pre-dinner snack and cocktail/mocktail at the condo. Suzie and I tried on a few new purchases, then got down to slicing some French bread and stirring up a Shirley Temple just as they arrived.

It was a perfect cocktail hour with three of my favorite ladies in the world, and then it was time to head to dinner at the Beehive, where I hoped Emi would enjoy some live music. 

It was a lovely dinner, mostly because of the company we kept. 

The night was nice enough for us all to walk back to their hotel, where we got some chocolate and then took a quick look at their view. The unexpected adventure is always the best kind. 

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Boston Family Weekend Part 2

This time of the year sees the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum unleashing her long hanging drapes of orange nasturtiums – an annual tradition that marks the arrival of spring in happy floral fashion. I love the idea of that. My own spring traditions have been pushed back due to weather and health issues, but they’ll arrive, just a little later than usual. The Gardner Museum is right on track, and all the more beautiful because of it. 

The wonder that Ms. Gardner conjured in her home, and the vast, sumptuous, gorgeous collection of artwork that she amassed, always inspires me to do better. Not merely artistically, but in everyday life – the way I arrange our home, the design of our garden, or the simple set-up of a sitting corner. 

We paused where she may have paused, stood in the same sunlight she may have stood in, and basked in the beauty all around us. 

Giving good face…

We exited the museum and made our way back to the condo, where we awaiting the arrival of Mom and Emi for pre-dinner snacks and cocktails…

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Boston Family Weekend Part 1

The same weekend that Suzie and I were in Boston for the ‘Cigarettes After Sex’ show, my Mom and my niece were opening a girls weekend in the same city, which meant it was a family weekend in every sense of the world. Susie and I walked from the Paradie Rock Club all the way back to the condo because the night wasn’t to brutally cold. The legendary Citgo sign was illuminated, and I’ll return to the vaunted intersection when Skip and I make our Red Sox sojourn in August. For now, it was the cap on a magnificent evening of music. 

The next day dawned in semi-sunny fashion, and since we weren’t scheduled to meet up with Mom and Emi until dinner time, Suzie and I found spring at the Isabella Stewart Gardner Museum. We both needed a fix of green. And beauty. And art.

It reignited my ongoing quest for a tree fern, and upped my antsy for pink daffodils.

The magnificent center courtyard was the balm for the crappy spring weather we’ve had of late. We soaked it in upon entrance, then returned to it at the end of our tour because that’s where the heart is made whole. 

{More to come…}

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Musing Over #KimptonLove

Like many of us, in my younger years I didn’t care as much about where I’d be staying in a certain city compared to what I’d be doing. The hotel, or occasional friend’s pad, was of less concern to a twentysomething person than who I might be hooking up with later that night. To that end, I’ve stayed in some highly questionable establishments over the years. A dodgy room in Miami with Chris made me realize that not all gay hotels came with taste. A mosquito-infested summer room in Chelsea found me placing an industrial-strength fan on my face for the night in the hopes of eluding the flying needles. Another room in the famed Chelsea Hotel was already occupied by an enormous roach which prompted me to insists one something better. (I was not exactly accommodated.) This doesn’t even touch on the apartments of friends –  let’s just say that I woke up with a contact high in one particular pot-growing compound in San Francisco.

These days, priorities have rightfully shifted, and it’s now the hotel that makes or breaks a stay away from home. I’m too old and comfort-concerned to put up with nonsense that once barely bothered me. Now I demand a little more, and Andy certainly enjoys a proper bed now that his back is so messed up. To that end, we are both Kimpton Rewards members, as it is one company that consistently provides personal service and unique boutique hotels in every city we’ve ever frequented. Coming up is a stay at the Muse in New York. I’ve been there before and it was wonderful, but this will mark Andy’s first time – and one never forgets their first time at a Kimpton property.

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Recovery Recap

At the tail end (God-willing) of a wretched bout with Flu B (cause it knocks you on your booty), I’m in no mood to do a big intro to this recap of a rather lackluster week of posts. Not to worry, good things are brewing here, so come back later this week for the usual excitement and scintillation. On with the last week of sick shit:

The Adam Lambert treat.

Losing hope

Fizzy wizzy makes me dizzy.

Super staunch news!

Hints of nudity, if you follow the links.

Flu B, baby!

Hunks of the Day included: Lewis TanThomas Wade Nicholls, Blake Mitchell & Jwan Yosef

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Sick Delirium

When you’ve been cooped up in your house stricken with the flu for seven days straight, we’ll see what sort of antics you get up to in the name of staving off boredom. For me, it was photographing the bulk of my Tom Ford Private Blend Collection backed by color-coordinated scarves as the background. Beginning with the California charm of ‘Lavender Palm’ through his most recent ‘Fucking Fabulous‘, it was an Instagram 16-part extravaganza, and I didn’t even get to feature all of them. (Give me a break, I got tuckered out before I could find appropriate scarves for ‘Oud Wood‘, ‘Tuscan Leather‘ and ‘Vert D’Encens‘.)

This is one killer flu, and if you’re sick of hearing me talk about it, you can imagine how sick of being sick I am. At the moment I’m in a stretch of hot sweats, fanning myself with a Sephora envelope while balancing this lap-top on my knees. It’s glamorous as fuck. 

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Sicko

Greetings! Welcome to Day 6 of my Flu B Extravaganza! Today’s exercise in delirium is brought to you by Congestion & Snot Shots! After a few days of the bone-rattling chills quickly followed by hot-flashes to rival the worst that have ever shaken my office of female co-workers, my flu is hopefully shaking off the fever and moving into the snot-fest of sneezing, coughing and mounting sinus pressure. I’m not sure which is worse or when this bullshit will end. I do know that I don’t think I can stand much more soup and fluid and DayQuil and NyQuil and ibuprofen and Saltines. 

I have been very good about staying hydrated – regular stops in the kitchen to grab a glass of water or decaf green tea, followed by all the required stops in the bathroom to piss it all out. My joints hurt too much to juice an orange, so Andy has been good enough to do that and provide me with fresh OJ using the oranges that Mom delivered. I did manage to carve up a grapefruit, so I’m fully fortified with Vitamin C. 

And still I wait for the flu to limp away…

 

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This Would Be Me

Thus far, I’ve only had one memorable run-in with the police while working on ‘The Circus Project’ (I was naked and standing on a busted-up excavator, which you should totally find on this project page). And then there was the time I got locked in a cemetery while I was in drag (and without a change of clothes). Those are far worse than this story, but I enjoyed it anyway

These things happen. 

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Return to the Gardens

This is the most exciting news Andy and I have heard in a long time: a new ‘Grey Gardens‘ movie is on the horizon! As most fans know, the original seed that brought us those beautiful gardens was planted when another movie was in the planning stages. Peter Beard, Andy Warhol and Lee Radziwill were working on that one, and the footage for ‘That Summer’ looks to be culled from that film-that-never-was. It includes the first glimpses of Big and Little Edie Beale. Swedish filmmaker Göran Hugo Olson has turned all of it into a new movie, and we can’t wait to see it. 

The trailer begins in promising form: “Everything was perfect in those days…”

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