Fresh from the bonus track of this coquette playlist, ‘A Night to Remember’ plays slinkily on this almost-summer Saturday night. In the attic loft window, and air conditioner hums and sputters, trying to keep the building heat at bay. Below, the Japanese garden gently waves its fronds of fountain bamboo in the slightest breeze, a host of hostas and their beautiful blue-grey leaves blend into the evening shadows, while a Japanese spikenard glows chartreuse behind a row of Japanese painted ferns. The night calls for music to remember…
Swore I’d seen you before Watched you walk through the door Something in your eye Reminded me of somebody I used to know…
The pink associated with the coquette aesthetic is a light and soft powdery pink – nothing too hot, nothing too electric, nothing too reddish, nothing too purplish, nothing too anythingish but the purest and simplest pink. It’s a whisper, it’s a brush, it’s an evocation. It doesn’t shout or demand or do much of anything other than exist in its own realm and plane, ephemeral and fleeting as the breeze. It’s a shrug and a sigh, and a collapse onto a rose-quilted antique bed.
It will be a bouquet of old-fashioned spray roses as soon as I get around to the market to find some. In the meantime, it’s a song – this song – played as the lights go dim, and the air cools down, and we whisper invitational incantations to summer…
The coquette vibe, according to those in-the-know, is a dreamy state of ultra-romantic yearning, innocently filled with unfulfilled desires and hints of romantic entanglements that may or may not work out. Emi and Cameron lended their ears and recommendations for most of these cuts, and I sequenced them in a way that sounded right to my virgin coquette ears. This is only the beginning – there are two more to come…
Bonus Track: A Night to Remember – Laufey and beabadoobee
Give a few of these a spin, ideally in this sequence to give you the closest approximation to what our home will sound like over the next few weeks. Rather than a single big coquette party, we shall be hosting several smaller coquette events. IYKYK, and if you don’t you probably won’t get the invite. Turns out a coquette isn’t all softness and bend…
Wrapped me in your arms Leaned in and whispered “Keep me in your heart” I’m so bewildered What’s this new desire called? I didn’t know that much at all ’bout love before But now, I think I’m learning…
The modern-day use of coquette indicates an aesthetic based on a “2020’s fashion trend that combines sweet, romantic, and playful elements to create a prim, hyper-feminine look. It features lace, pearls, bows, pastel colors, ballet flats, corsets, puff sleeves, and gold jewelry.” Once I read that, I knew this was speaking to me on one of those planes of kismet and destiny, where something that has been inside of me all along suddenly finds expression and fruition in some parallel movement of pop culture and fashion trends. It feels good to belong to something again. And it feels good to welcome a new summer.
My niece Emi and my friend Missy’s son Cameron helped me finalize the concept for our summer theme, and here, as best as my old eyes and brain can figure, is how we are defining ‘coquette’ for the moment, and for the whole of this summer:
Coquette is pink gingham, not red and white plaid or purple damask.
Coquette is a pair of freshly-plucked cherries, perhaps with a withered leaf still attached, not those obnoxious day-glo maraschino monstrosities you find on sundaes.
Coquette is blush or bashful pink, not hot pink or magenta.
Coquette is refined ease and elegance, not forced formality or fortitude.
Coquette is effortless, not plodding.
Coquette is late spring and early summer, not fall or winter.
Finally, coquette is now, not later.
For our musical inspiration, the coquette theme is all Lana Del Rey and Laufey, with a few others sprinkled in to lend whimsy and a dreamlike quality to the rest of the sunny season. (Playlist to come in the next post.) Here, then, is Laufey with the lovely ‘Bewitched’ – a song which perfectly encapsulates the innocent longing that personifies the heart of today’s coquette.
You bewitched me From the first time that you kissed me Waited all night Then we ran down the street in the late London light The world froze around us, you kissed me good night
You bewitch me Every damn second you’re with me I try to think straight But I’m falling so badly, I’m coming apart You wrote me a note, cast a spell on my heart And bewitched me Bewitched me
You’re not even gone I already miss you What’s going on? I’ve never been through This all-consuming fire fuming Cursing at the moon and losing all control and crying ‘Cause I think I’m falling
Perhaps above all else, coquette is escapism and fantasy and a whimsical refusal of the rotten things this life can throw at us. That may be why it’s speaking to me so profoundly at this particular time, for this particular summer. After last year, I feel a little emotionally shell-shocked with the advance of the summer season, and I’ve noticed a little apprehension, which is to be expected. As such, I’m wading slowly and gently into the warmer waters, testing things out and allowing myself to continue grieving as the sadness comes. An underlying sentiment of melancholy informs much of our coquette music as well – proof that romance doesn’t heal all wounds, that love can be as eternal as it is painful – and what heartbreaking beauty comes from the pain of love. This summer, let us have our coquette moments, and let them transport us to a place of stilled prettiness, suspended softness, and delicate wistfulness.
You bewitch me Every damn second you’re with me I try to think straight But I’m falling so badly, I’m coming apart You wrote me a note, cast a spell on my heart And bewitched me Bewitched
This piece of music from the AMC television series ‘Interview with the Vampire‘ (of which I am thrillingly enthralled at a time when not much on television enthralls me) struck me as incredibly moving, as it formed the backdrop to when two vampires met for the first time and didn’t realize they were at the beginning of a centuries-long love affair. No one knows at the beginning – we all think we do, but if we’re honest with ourselves, we never really know. Even if it turns out to last a lifetime, we didn’t know it at the time it began. All we knew was love.
The first summer I met Andy wasn’t what we initially knew as our first summer – it was simply summer. Who could foresee the twenty-four years – and counting – that would follow? As much as I felt like it might be for more than a single summer, I didn’t truly know, and as much as I wanted it to be, I was only one-half of the equation.
Looking back at our story, to the very genesis of how it began in the summer of 2000, I’m more and more touched by our innocence then, by the tenderness of how we learned to accept and love each other. Watching Andy clean the pool – something that seems like such a simple act – is a part of the daily mundane that I’ve come to appreciate as magical over the past few years, when the world has revealed itself to be so much less than kind.
Back when we were the young men, maybe we just didn’t notice it.
This was a defining song of the summer of 1989 – and while that summer comes and goes from my memory all these years later, I remember this song playing on the radio waves, along with the waves of the ocean, and the waves of heat that beat off the sand, off the pavement, off the stone and tar of our garage roof. Such heat coming amid such a sick beat.
Only summer could handle a banger like ‘Express Yourself’.
Listen to Laufey and see if you’re obsessed about this as a lovely summer soundtrack for a summer that will be dreamy and blue and sadly whimsical. Fittingly entitled ‘From the Start’, this is actually an echo of a previous post, so it’s more of a continuation of things pink, and a little pointer of where things are headed. Our official summer theme is about to be revealed – and if you know (and a few of you already do) then snap your fan and keep it secret, keep it safe.
Don’t you notice how I get quiet when there’s no one else around? Me and you and awkward silence Don’t you dare look at me that way I don’t need reminders of how you don’t feel the same
These lilies have been getting in on the act, splashing their flashy selves across the garden centers, and completely out of place at this early stage of the gardening season. Still, they are pretty, and prettiness is its own mystery and solution.
After what seems like a lifetime of delicious teasing, Jim Verraros releases his new single ‘Pyramid’ today, making this a day worthy of celebration, continuing the splash he made with recent hit ‘Take My Bow’. From cuts like ‘ Go Deep’ on his debut album ‘Rollercoaster’ to much of the ‘Do Not Disturb’ era, Verraros has often offered cheekily unabashed musical takes on gay love and life. Sprinkling in enough skin and spiciness to the proceedings to visually entice viewers, Verraros is also making music that moves the masses. ‘Take My Bow‘ charged across dance floors around the world, and ‘Pyramid’ aims to erect a similar trajectory.
The tantalizing possibilities of a song named ‘Pyramid’ have had all fans of Jim Verraros salivating and waiting with properly-baited breath for the arrival of his new single, set to debut May 10. The promotional artwork and video clips are scintillating, and only hint at the follow-up to his worldwide smash ‘Take My Bow’. Like many, I’m hoping this is the beginning of an entire album of new work, as the world seems poised and ready for someone who once trail-blazed his way onto the music scene and never quite got the credit he deserved for it. Get ready to be dazzled all over again as ‘Pyramid’ gets its long-awaited release this week.
With all this talk of flowers, let’s add a little music into the mix for a relaxing Saturday night. Windflowers are aptly named and full of all expected charm. They dance in the slightest breeze, and positively go bonkers when the wind is strong. (Makes for a fun bit of macro-focusing, and part of the reason you don’t see any close-ups here – sorry Norma Desmond.) Anyway, here’s a mellow piece perfect for a Saturday night in spring, when blossoms are on the breeze and hope is in the air.
While Mercury in retrograde wreaked its customary havoc, mostly it was about dealing with bothersome people not knowing how to drive or dropping things like the pictured vase here. During all of this, Taylor Swift released her latest – ‘The Tortured Poets Department’ – a surprise double-album that I’m still digesting. Overall, I dig it, as it feels like a combo of the ‘folklore‘, ‘evermore‘ and ‘Midnights‘ albums, which are the ones that brought me into the Swifties club. This song stood out from the rest, and is delightfully indicative of the mess that Mercury and full moons can bring into existence.
I can read your mind She’s having the time of her life There in her glittering prime The lights refract sequined stars off her silhouette every night I can show you lies (one, two, three)
‘Cause I’m a real tough kid, I can handle my shit They said, baby, gotta fake it ’til you make it and I did Lights, camera, bitch smile, even when you wanna die
I was grinning like I’m winning, I was hitting my marks ‘Cause I can do it with a broken heart (one, two, three)
I’m so depressed, I act like it’s my birthday every day I’m so obsessed with him but he avoids me like the plague I cry a lot but I am so productive, it’s an art You know you’re good when you can even do it With a broken heart
This one goes to anyone who’s ever gone into the world and put on a brave face when everything else is crumbling to the ground. It’s never good to keep things like that inside for long, but sometimes you have to do it – for work, for school, for family, for survival. Some people can’t do it – they can’t soldier on, they have to pause and break down – and my heart breaks for them a little. It breaks more for those of us who carry the weight and move forward with a brave, unbothered face.
He said he’d love me for all time But that time was quite short Breaking down, I hit the floor All the pieces of me shattered as the crowd was chanting, “More” I was grinning like I’m winning, I was hitting my marks ‘Cause I can do it with a broken heart (one, two, three)
I’m so depressed, I act like it’s my birthday every day
I’m so obsessed with him but he avoids me like the plague (he avoids me) I cry a lot but I am so productive, it’s an art
You know you’re good when you can even do it
With a broken heart
You know you’re good when you can even do it
With a broken heart
You know you’re good, I’m good
‘Cause I’m miserable
And no one even knows
Try to come for my job
I never meant to cause you any sorrow I never meant to cause you any pain I only wanted one time to see you laughing I only want to see you laughing in the purple rain
I met my friend Ann way back in 7th grade, circa 1987, and a year later we had hit it off, sharing most of the honor courses in middle school and high school. We had similar senses of humor, finding the ridiculousness in so much of life, particularly the life of a teenager, and we held onto each other in the kinship of misfit outsiders. Life wreaked its ruthless havoc on us, and as the world pummeled us for not seeming to belong, we found safety and security in one another. Our friendship was a life-sustaining force for me during my late teenage years, and she would be there when no one else could. That laid the history and groundwork for a lifelong friendship, and though it’s been about a decade since we’ve seen each other in person, through letters and texts and correspondence, we’ve kept in touch, and that friendship has never wavered.
“The only true currency in this bankrupt world is what you share with someone else when you’re uncool.”
The last few times we’ve seen each other have been for funerals, and that’s no way to see a dear friend. This reunion was a very long time coming, and as Ann would later point out, it was precisely what we needed without realizing how badly we needed it.
Honey I know, I know, I know times are changing It’s time we all reach out for something new That means you too You say you want a leader But you can’t seem to make up your mind I think you better close it And let me guide you to the purple rain
We spent the day catching up and talking, shifting our little groups as Andy joined in after a Lowe’s grill mix-up (still awaiting a call back from that manager, days later) and soon – too soon – it was time for bed. There’s no way I can properly convey how lovely this weekend was for us – as our world grows ever dimmer, simply being with good friends is good for the soul. Both Ann and Josie have been two of those ‘safe’ friends whom I consider family – the very few people I trust implicitly and around whom I can completely let down my guard and entirely be myself. Those friends are few and far between, but whenever we get to share time and space, it reaffirms my hope and faith in the world.
“It’s all happening!”
Having reconnected, and introduced Ann and Josie officially to each other, we are looking ahead to doing this again sooner rather than later. We’ve all lost people near and dear to us, and I think we feel the precious passing of hours, aware that time together is more important now than ever.
So when you call up that shrink in Beverly Hills You know the one Dr. Everything’ll Be Alright Instead of asking him how much of your time is left Ask him how much of your mind, baby
‘Cause in this life Things are much harder than in the afterworld In this life You’re on your own
And if the elevator tries to bring you down Go crazy!!!
Setting up our Purple Reign weekend was a labor of love, designed to be the first meeting of two of my besties who had become friends in their own right, and the first time I’d seen Ann in what may well be over a decade. It all felt too good to be true, and so we charged ahead, hyping it with purple boxes announcing the Purple Reign theme, with loads of lavender, lots of purple love, and a soundtrack largely by Prince (with some healthy doses of Madonna and Bon Jovi thrown in for 80’s pleasure).
We would spend the weekend defying the notion of the opening intro that ‘in this life, you’re on your own’ – because on this weekend, we were in it together. More to come…
Dr. Everything’ll-Be-All-Right
Will make everything go wrong Pills and thrills and daffodils will kill Hang tough, children He’s coming
He’s coming
Coming…
It is a moment where tears fill the eyes but never drop.
It is sad in its way, but the overriding feeling is one of happiness, and a joy in that it all happened.
A happy almost-cry, if you will.
It’s the quiet and stillness when dear friends who have been visiting for a weekend depart – usually in the morning – and it always strikes me with its return to silence. The beauty and contentment of a newly-made memory…
It’s a time when remnants of dear friends still linger – the faded scent of their perfume, the last glass of water they used, the silly trio of heart-shaped sunglasses that sits on a spent table scattered with birthday cake crumbs.
At such a moment, when Ann and Josie had just left after a ‘Purple Reign’ Birthday weekend that was ideal in just about every way, I stand in the living room, watch the sunlight of a brilliant spring day, and this song comes over the radio – a piano arrangement of Debussy’s ‘Prelude to the Afternoon of a Faun’ – fittingly capturing the very start of something, even as it’s the very ending.
As I watch JoAnn pull out of the driveway and give a little beep, I wave, holding my hand up even after she is gone, and I remember that last episode of the ‘The Golden Girls‘ when Sophia is looking at photo of Blanche and Rose and quietly says, ‘Goodbye my girls‘ after they have decided to stay together. (And you didn’t think this blog could get any gayer.)
This music feels right, because while the beginning of the piece perfectly captures that quiet and stillness, the rest is all about setting the scene for an entire new story to come, and a tale to be told that brings back decades of friendship and history. For now, I take in the beauty of the moment, the promise of a spring day, and the memory of some very dear friends.
Whenever I think that I’ve grown too old for music to touch me in the magical, primal, soul-wrenching way it did in my teen years, I’ll happen upon something like the new Cigarettes After Sex song, ‘Tejano Blue’ and suddenly the world feels fresh and exhilarating and gorgeously terrifying in the best way. Many a ‘Cigarettes After Sex’ song has had a similar effect, from the very first time I heard ‘Apocalypse‘ to the latest peek at their upcoming ‘X’s’ album. Drummer Jacob Tomsky is largely the reason I became aware of them, as I was a huge fan of his ‘Heads in Beds’ book; when I discovered he played for the band, I gave them a listen and music was once again that thing that gave me inspiration and hope in a world, and an age bracket, where those things were largely gone.
Way back then, the band wasn’t as big as it is now (they are set to play the TD Garden and Madison Square Garden on their forthcoming X’s Tour) and Jacob was kind enough to invite a swooning fanboy like myself to meet him backstage before one of those early Boston shows. Suzie joined me and we fanned out like we were teenagers again – the best thing music can bring out in anyone.
Headed by Greg Gonzalez, Cigarettes After Sex often sounds like it could be the love-child of Angelo Badalamenti and the ‘Laid’ album by James – two of my very favorite things in the whole world. And while this sort of exquisite, dreamy music doesn’t seem to rely on the drum work to make its statement, it requires the sort of consistent precision and controlled innate rhythm to potently cast its hypnotic spell. Credit Tomsky with the latter, and you have one of the many reasons he is our Dazzler of the Day.
A year or so ago, my niece Emi, by then already a teenager herself, marveled at the fact that I knew about the new favorite band she was listening to: Cigarettes After Sex. Happy to pass the torch of musical fandom to someone who shares a special and, pardon the hubris, spectacular taste in music, I shared my history of loving the band, and how one day I got to meet them before one of their early shows – and how they were just as cool as you’d want them to be. She’s going to see them in New York on their MSG date, while I’m looking into seeing them in Boston again. The world is growing up, the world is growing darker, and the world is growing older, but through it all the good music will keep us going. Thanks to Jacob Tomsky for reminding me of that.
Apologies for the posting time of this one – it should only be read in the deep depths of night, when the house has gone quiet, when the family has gone to bed, and you sit alone, unable to sleep – maybe because it’s Saturday, maybe because there is something lodged in your mind, or maybe because you are simply too tired to sleep. That happens sometimes. You can push through the tired period when sleep would come easily if you just let it, but you don’t, thinking you might miss something, or pushing ahead to get one more thing done before the day ends. And then it’s too late – you’re up, you’re wired, and you cannot sleep no matter how tired you are. Tricky thing, the arrival and all-too-quick departure of your sleep window. These days I try to catch it by inviting it, welcoming it, and making the conditions hospitable to it. Such as with a song like this – a song that should only be heard late at night. Come revisit this post then.
