Every year around this time the gardens start to give up a little. Once-verdant stretches of ostrich fern are brown and burned (despite my best efforts to keep them watered), the floral stalks of hosta plants are weighed down with pendulous seed-pods (which I am late in dead-heading), and the first thrust of blooms from the potted patio plants has declined.
Still, there is hope, and this is the time that a renewed fertilizer cycle and some judicious but drastic pruning can result in a second summer showing. I was reminded of that when this begonia began making its own efforts to that end. Here you can see it forming buds for new flowers after taking a couple of weeks of rest.
Much of the coquette-themed music we’ve heard this summer has been culled from the knowledge and taste of my niece Emi Lu. This mix veers slightly away from that true coquette aesthetic and into my own zany interpretation of coquette madness, hence its common title of ‘Coquette-Me-Not’. Here are songs that branch off from that pure theme into something hopefully just as fabulous, with a little harder beat to help get you onto your feet. So much of a coquette lifestyle is about lounging and longing – this one is about silliness and frivolity and dancing your ass off when things get vulgar…
While things get hot on the dance floor with cuts such as ‘Murder on the Dancefloor‘ and ‘Padam Padam’, there is a delicious cool down in a trio of coquette insta-classics: ‘Cherry’, ‘Rain’ and ‘Hot’.
Currently making a play for Olympic gold in Paris (notably in the Men’s Tennis Doubles team – see partner Rafael Nadal in his underwear here) this is Carlos Alcaraz. He’s made his own name for himself in tennis, starting his competitive journey when he was just 15 years old – all those years of work and competition are paying off. He also had his own underwear moment, as seen here, which puts the cherries on this Olympic Spotlight sundae.
This Dazzler of the Day is dedicated to Rebecca, who has excellent taste. (See David Beckham.) We promised early on that Paris was bulging, and French diver Jules Bouyer delivers on that promise, based alone on the photos below. Representing his home country, Bouyer is also, fittingly, a model. When you cross male models with Olympic athletes, it’s a guaranteed recipe for the Dazzler of the Day.
Most of my favorite colognes have been gifts from Andy for birthdays or holidays or anniversaries. They have each worked to make memories that now fuel me whenever I feel uninspired or sad about something. Andy is the one who started my Tom Ford collection, with a bottle of ‘Oud Wood’ way back when, and has since populated some of my more precious bottles – such as ‘Amber Absolute‘, ‘Japon Noir‘, and ‘Bois Marocain‘ before they were all discontinued.
As part of our coquette summer, ‘Silver Mountain Water’ is the perfect fragrance to offer a fresh alternative to the potent ‘Carnal Flower’. As summer advances, we needed a breath of freshness, and the bergamot and mandarin orange citrus opening provides just that. Deepening into notes of green tea and black currant, it finally reveals a few more of my favorite elements with sandalwood and petitgrain. Then, perhaps a bit too quickly, it dissipates into a skin fragrance, which is just what I want in a summer fragrance. This world is heavy enough, and our coquette summer was designed to be light and free and airy.
Right now, Asher Hong and Paul Juda are pushing the US Men’s Gymnastics team toward an Olympic medal, and as such they garner tonight’s Olympic Spotlight. Watching these two gentlemen power through a difficult qualifying event to charge toward a medal is a lesson in perseverance, spirit, and dedication. They’re an inspiration, no matter how far they go tonight. Also, those muscles…
And the summer begins with the taste of your lips While it’s getting hot inside you Think you’d burn through your dress if you kiss me again And it’s getting hot inside…
July… one of those months you don’t want to end, no matter how stifling and hot it might get. July is summer at its zenith. It’s vacations and pools and blurry asphalt, it’s bike rides and tomatoes and childhood nostalgia, it’s lilies and daisies and hydrangeas. It’s also a moment to stop and take a breather. It gets hot out there. Sit beside me in the shade and listen to this song.
Where are we in this summer? I’m probably not the best person to ask. We are very near the one-year anniversary of my Dad’s death, and my grieving has come back, if it ever really went away. It’s too soon to gauge whether summer has been irreparably wounded by the events of last year, but how could it ever be the same again? I wouldn’t want to erase all that has happened – if you take away all the sadness you take away all the love.
Is it all in my head? ‘Cause I keep getting scared That I’ll always be lost forever But I don’t give a shit if I’m too delicate When you hold me, it’s always better
Still, summer burns and summer heals. Grieving in the barren stark dimness of winter night have proven unbearable. This might be the best and most forgiving time to experience loss. The outside world, with its beauty and the floral balms in bloom, offers comfort, the way beauty always eases our time on earth. A song like this lends its own bit of help in assuaging melancholy. Happiness, ever elusive and always out of reach, is summer’s vicious promise every year.
Now your lips start to taste of pink lemonade As I jump off the roof into your pool Laugh and run from the heat ’cause it’s burning your feet And it’s getting hot inside
Is it all in my head? ‘Cause I keep getting scared That I’ll always be lost forever But I don’t give a shit if I’m too delicate When you hold me, it’s always better
Part of Maxim Bouchard’s secret to his success as a 7-time Canadian Diving Champion and former Olympian was coming out as a gay man. He attributes the authenticity and power in proclaiming who he was as a necessary component to excelling at his stellar career. Today he earns the Dazzler of the Day thanks to his inspirational message.
Arriving at the end of July brings a bittersweet moment, as it means one full year will have passed since Dad died. It still stings when I say it, and I try not to skirt saying it in the hope that one day it won’t sting as much. I don’t know if that’s the best way to do it, but I refuse to bury it. Instead, I let the sadness come when it does, I allow myself to stay in bed on weekends if I don’t feel like getting up right away. And in the same vein, I allow the happiness of summer to wash over me too. To that end, here is our weekly recap for the last week of July, when summer is at its most potent.
Having just earned a gold medal for the US, Torri Huske earns this Olympic Spotlight thanks to her powerhouse performance in the Paris Olympics. She grabbed the gold in the 100m, and with teammate Gretchen Walsh right behind her with the silver, made it a 1-2 USA punch.
Rene Farias is an artist who has managed to turn the quiet and seemingly insignificant turns of a day into an erotic expiration of beauty and inspiration. Living out his creative endeavors across social media, he produces work that is as scintillating in its finished state as it is in the process of being made. While Farias has the power and talent to make something beautiful of the smaller moments, his work also explores other-worldly creatures and fantasies, letting loose with images of wild hybrids merging man and beast, minotaur and mermaids, and fabled fairies. In some pieces he treats the human body like an architectural structure – a train runs through the tunnels of two human cavities – while in others trios of embracing men with wings find their legs morphing into multiple squid-like arms. A surreal gorgeousness imbues many of his pieces, bending the mind of the viewer as they try to navigate whether what they are in fact seeing is what they think they are seeing. It’s the greatest trick an artist can conjure, and the trickiest display of talent a human can execute. Farias earns his first Dazzler of the Day thanks to a consistent outpouring of work that makes us think and feel and marvel. Check out his website here.
“I’m cuban artist living in Miami. I like to explore the human eroticism and break taboos and stereotypes. There is no better way to assert ideas than through art. Mermaids, minotaurs, fairies, snakes, butterflies; recurring elements in my work that serve to accentuate the contrast between masculine strength and the fragility and delicacy that nature and mythology offer us. I really hope you enjoy my little piece of the world.” ~ Rene Farias
I couldn’t quite make out what they were as I didn’t have my glasses on. Having just slipped into the pool to find some relief for my back, and a day that found me largely asleep in bed, I only saw two forms fluttering about the cherry tree. I thought they were butterflies as I hastened to put my glasses back on.
Finding them again in the cherry, I saw that they were hummingbirds – a pair of them playing or fighting, I couldn’t tell which, and they were no less charming for whatever drama they were playing out. Flitting from thuja to cherry and back, they darted to and from each other, until one flew high above all the trees, zipped back, then did it again – back and forth to the other one, before they both took off.
One came back, but I’d already moved to the deep end of the pool, so I viewed it from afar. I saw it descend smoothly and surprisingly swiftly right toward me, so close I almost had to duck, its body solid and dark of color, its wings moving too quickly for me to discern, and then it suddenly stopped in mid air, pausing to poke its tongue into the flowers of the cup plant. A charming moment that made me involuntarily smile.
Slipping back underwater, I swam down and tried to let my back ease off itself. It had been a beautiful day – I should have spent more of it outside, I just didn’t feel like it.
After a few more slow laps to loosen up the limbs and relax the back, I floated languidly and listened to a third visitor who had just arrived – a cricket. Its chirping reminded me that the first part of summer was over. It’s the sound of August. Already an ending, and I’m still trying to be ok with it.
Smashing world records is one thing, but smashing world records held by Michael Phelps is something altogether spectacular. Léon Marchand is doing just that as he takes to the world stage of the Paris Olympic Games. Representing host country France, Marchand may make his biggest splashes to date as he swims for the gold in the city of the Seine. This morning he earns his first crowning as Dazzler of the Day.
Much like the way ‘Vulgar’ energized last summer with a chaser of ‘Popular‘ (before the summer all went wrong), this season’s surprise gay jam comes courtesy of Kesha, whose ‘Joyride’ is stampeding across all the social media trendsetting scenes. It’s providing the precise level of stupidity and ridiculousness – the very breath of fresh air – that this moment requires. Having fallen into a bit of a funk lately, I’m doing what I can to stay emotionally afloat, and this nonsensical ditty was designed as an escape, led by an ear worm that’s crawling about in my head and driving me absolutely crazy.
That’s the kind of hubris for which I was once hailed, hated and harried. That’s the cheeky side of me that once charmed and seduced and thrilled. If it was all in my mind it was no less successful for its escapist salvation. And that’s the sort of spirit that seems to have slowly drained from me over the last year. Sometimes the silliest trifle of music brings us back to ourselves.
I’m just looking for a joyride, JOYRIDE I’m just looking for A GOOD TIME TONIGHT Baby, I want you to rev my engine ’til you make it purrrr KEEP IT KINKY, but I come first Beep beep bitch, I’m outside. Get in loser for the joyride. Making every motherfucker turn Fell from heaven no, it didn’t hurt Beep beep BEST NIGHT OF YOUR LIFE Get in loser for the joyride Joyride GET IN LOSER for the joyride
Blaring the music in the air-conditioned confines of my Mini Cooper, lip-syncing this song saucily and trying to convince myself that it’s all super-duper, summer passes more swiftly than I think I want it to pass. I’m not sure if I’m happy or disappointed by that. Last summer I just wanted to speed through it.
And so summer heals – in a sunny day, in a silly song, in a simple swim. You laugh again because you can, and there are still funny things in this joyride of a world. Maybe your laughter isn’t as loud or as long as it once was, so you turn up a song like this as high as it will go, until you can’t hear yourself think those bothersome thoughts. You lean into what silliness you can find, grasping at whatever easy comfort or fun falls like a feather from the sky, and you pray to not go through something sad again, knowing what a futile prayer it will eventually prove to be. You lead with a laugh, desperate to trigger happiness, even if you have to enter from the end, even if your laughter is false and forced; sometimes the physical act is enough to elicit an echo of all the happiness that real laughter once inspired.
Joyride, joyride I’m just looking for a good time tonight Baby, I want you to rev my engine ’til you make it purrrr Keep it kinky, BUT I COME FIRST Beep beep bitch, I’m outside. Get in loser for the joyride. Making every motherfucker turn FELL FROM HEAVEN no, it didn’t hurt Beep beep best night of your life Get in loser for the joyride
