Word: mock
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Dates: during 2000-2000
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...city like San Francisco. A gaggle of protesters in front of a grocery store, some dressed as monarch butterflies, others as Frankenstein's monster. Signs reading HELL NO, WE WON'T GROW IT! People in white biohazard jumpsuits pitching Campbell's soup and Kellogg's cornflakes into a mock toxic-waste bin. The crowd shouting, "Hey, hey, ho, ho--GMO has got to go!" And, at the podium, Jesse Cool, a popular restaurant owner, wondering what would happen if she served a tomato spliced with an oyster gene and a customer got sick. "I could get sued," she says...
...line was inspired by homelessness, this time claimed the correspondence of Sigmund Freud sparked his desire to make clothes that a child might see while looking through the keyhole of his mother's boudoir. (Presumably Mrs. G. was not a T.J. Maxx shopper.) The show was staged as a mock wedding, with cross-bearing mandarins and gorilla women strolling down the runway to a sound track of orgasmic moans. A few were outraged, but most fashion pros merely chuckled. As Freud might have said, sometimes a gorilla woman is just a gorilla woman...
Aside from last Tuesday, when my office VCR broke right before Timmy the Living Doll was knocked overboard from the prom boat on Passions, the worst part of my job is having my co-workers mock my wardrobe. My new sunglasses are somehow "too Ray Charles," my black T shirt is "too Bruce Vilanch" and my raincoat "too Statler Brothers...
...friends in W, I would mock him until he cried littlegirly-fashion tears, though I would first have to find a good excuse for having read W, and my normal "It's at my barber's" wasn't going to cut it. I knew a photo shoot would involve random people touching me, which I have finally learned always sounds a lot better than it turns out. Besides, I'm not photogenic (see last week's issue, page 8). That's why TIME uses a drawing in the middle of this column instead of a picture. You cannot imagine...
...oversize, snotty fashion magazine. The June issue ran this tidbit: "Those adorable newlyweds Vanessa and Bill Getty hosted a gala wine tasting and auction at the St. Francis Hotel with the swell crowd invited"--just a page away from a picture of someone named Muffy Potter Ashton. I mock the magazine partly because I figure if I make the editors mad enough, they will cut me from the spread and no one will have to see the pictures of me. But mostly because it sucks...