IT'S A VERSAYCE! -The Delightful Tackiness Of The Aesthetics In Showgirls
Showgirls: A moral clusterfuck of a film about maiming one's path to success in the span of a few months. Showgirls is problematic for many reasons (an entirely separate essay) and has been historically ridiculed by critics and movie-goers alike. It's a movie where everyone's an asshole, and bad behavior is rewarded in spades (VEGAS CASINO GAMBLING PUN INTENDED), and it just so happens to be one of my favorites. Not only is the film comically bad, it was also comically expensive. With a budget of $45 million, the production team spared no expense when it came to visuals. If there's one thing this movie got right, it's the stereotypical depictions of ostentatious Las Vegas pageantry. The sets and costumes exude a bright, shiny, tacky VA-VA-VOOM, making for a true delight for the eyes. Like many films with a strong-willed, adventurous protagonist, our journey begins with a leather jacket.
Nomi Malone, our indentured heroine, stands hitchhiking beside a dusty highway. Her aforementioned jacket (with fringe and concho studding) over a floral shirt (buttoned all the way down) paired with acid-wash mom jeans, black cowboy boots, a vintage suitcase, and, of course, a switchblade pay homage to the classic drifter.
She's a diamond in the rough, determined to make it as a dancer at any cost. However, due to her own insufferable behavior, Vegas does not welcome Nomi with open arms. And then, all of a sudden, it does. The same night Nomi loses everything to (surprise!) gambling, she meets Molly, a costume designer with a superhuman ability to tolerate her bullshit. Molly just so happens to design the costumes for Goddess, a MAJOR show playing at the Stardust Hotel. For no reason rooted in logic, Molly is intrigued by Nomi and offers her a room in her adorable trailer. How convenient for Nomi! She's been in Las Vegas for barely two seconds, and she's already found housing, a friend, and connections to her dream job. Lashing out at everyone she comes in contact with is already working in her favor! Six weeks pass and the two become bosom buddies for reasons that will always remain unclear, given that Nomi is unapologetically selfish in all areas of her life. The film does make a point of letting the audience know that Nomi is really good at doing nails. So it’s okay because even though Nomi exhibits all the traits of a toxic friend, Molly can get a perfect manicure at any time!
One night before a shift at The Cheetah, Molly convinces Nomi to "wear that dress I made last week" so she can accompany her backstage at a showing of Goddess.
BY GEORGE SHE'S GOT IT!
The color! The cut! The layers of fringe! The disco ball earrings! Not at one point does Nomi realize how lucky she is to have a friend who can sew. It's the perfect coming-out dress for a budding showgirl and a night of sexy-dance-fighting at the club, hence this last photo where she's stomping out of jail. But I digress. Before getting locked up after starting a fight on the dance floor, Nomi meets Cristal Connors, THE GODDESS! THE STAH OF THE GAWD DAMNED SHOW!
"I think it's the best show I've ever been in, I just hope I can do it justice."
When we first meet the iridescent Cristal, she’s not wearing much other than a thong and eyelashes big enough to hit you in the face before you can even say 'Hi.' Cristal crystallizes (yeah, that’s right) her show-stopping status in the next shot, where we catch her in her aprés show robe. The glamour here is so overwhelming; I swear I saw some glitter shoot out of my TV. The feathers! The tinsel highlights! The eyeliner matching the highlights! SO. MUCH. GLAMOUR. It's overstimulating. How many pounds of sequins were used in this movie? As if things couldn't get even more extra, we take a peek into Cristal's dressing room.
The shot where she takes her makeup off makes me want to take a bath in Ponds Cold Cream. When it comes to the film's makeup, more is more. Everyone get your eyeliner and lipliner! Countour! Sculpt! There's no such thing as natural beauty in Las Vegas.
Molly and her trademark accessories, measuring tape, and granny glasses on a chain, helping Cristal adjust. Not a hair out of place on this gal and goood looord those eyebrows! She makes me want to pick up a tweezer again.
Everyone's face in this movie is a painting. There's a reason why they're called makeup artists. You're drawing a new face on someone's current face. That's called art.
Arguably the most iconic fashion moment in the film takes place when Nomi and Molly visit the Forum.
Nomi's off-stage look always involves a pushup bra, a crop top, and denim cutoffs. Molly's style is artsier and understatedly sexy, playing with bright colors and accessories. Of all the characters, her style is probably the most fashion-forward. I mean, a cardigan paired with a crop top? She knows how to mix it up.
Okay, the storied Versayce scene. My favorite part of the entire movie. While at The Forum, Nomi spots a dress in the window at Versace, and she needs it. To be fair, the dress is pretty spectacular. The tight shift fit with cutouts held together by buttons bearing the Medusa Motif is quintessential Versace. Molly offers to make her one just like it, but NO, DAMN IT! Nomi wants the real thing right now.
JUST LET HER MAKE IT FOR YOU! SHE'S A COSTUME DESIGNER! SHE CAN SEW ANYTHING! SAVE YOUR MONEY!
VERSACE VERSACE VERSACE VERSACE VERSACE VERSACE VERSAYCE VERSACÉ VERSACHE VERSAUCHI VERSAKI VERSUCHI
What? You didn't think she wasn't going to get her way? Of course, Nomi gets the dress and proudly wears it to her first day of work, telling everyone it's from "the Versayce at the Forum." No one bothers to correct her because other than Molly, everyone in this film is an asshole who cannot be trusted even with pronunciation.
Look at that oversize patchwork jacket. I bet it was the first piece of clothing she made.
If anyone's an artist in this film, it's Molly. After all, she is the one responsible for creating the lewks in the show.
What a gorgeous evil mermaid!
Art imitates life in this BDSM number. Throughout the entire film, Nomi and Cristal have a lust/hate relationship that turns into a full-blown obsession. Cristal wines and dines her and then calls her a whore. I think the real question here is, Aren't we all whores?
"You need more tears."
MORE VERSAYCE! The jacket anyway.
The whole number. I'd kill for a Versace mini skirt from the 90s but Nomi would kill me first.
Though she's not as flashy as Nomi or Cristal, Molly has the most creative style of anyone in the film.
Was American Apparel inspired by this movie?
She's never without her granny glasses in case there's a sequin or stitch that needs re-sewing. And even in the Las Vegas heat, she's not afraid to layer. Overalls over tie-dyed thermals. Vests over tie-dyed thermals. A moral conscience over Nomi's ego. Like Nomi, we need Molly more than she needs us, and if you know how the film ends, you know we don't deserve her.
In her farewell scene, Nomi leaves Vegas the way she came. Hitchhiking!
However, after plowing through people's lives and careers, Nomi departs with a little more glamour and confidence than when she came. Note the tiger print lamé button-down buttoned all the way down and Cristal's hat, which serves as some kind of love letter to Nomi. OH EM GEE! Cristal had feelings for her all along! To wrap things up nicely, Nomi rides off into the sunset with the same creep who dropped her off and stole her stuff. Finally, the two travelers tumultuously and violently make their way to Los Angeles, where there are bigger-budgeted productions she can demolish. I think I'm the only person ready for Showgirls 2.
A Post On AD… HEY LOOK AT THAT CUTE DOG!
For as long as I can recall being in school, concentration has been a challenge for me. My lack of focus was often attributed by teachers as a lack of discipline. If I just worked/ studied/ tried harder, I would be “on track.” If I could just do this one thing that was seemingly within my control, I would be on the deceptively linear path to success. I would be excellent. Oddly, the truth of the matter was that I was working hard. I would take notes and stay after school for extra help and then come to school early for some more help. I bought any folder and planner that promised me a more streamlined method of organization. Cute, novelty calendars and post-it lists were traditional stocking stuffers from Santa. I bought organizing systems for my organizing systems. The Container Store was both my heaven and hell.
It wasn’t until a routine counseling session in college, that I began to entertain the idea that I might have ADD. My initial skepticism was due largely because growing up, I was assured I didn’t have it. My parents, like many others, felt we were living in a culture of over-medicating and their kids were not going to be a part of it. And I didn’t blame them. At college, recreational use of ADD meds was the norm. People used them to stay up and party. People also used them to cope with massive workloads. During finals, the price of an individual pill would rise. It was a whole market! A lot of my peers didn’t need these pills and for a while I kept questioning if I really needed them as well. The answer was and still is, yes.
After being diagnosed and sent off with my first prescription, it was like a massive knot had been untangled in my brain. Tasks became less overwhelming. It became easier to mentally break things down to make them more digestable. I started to feel more engaged and in control. I started to feel intelligent and capable. This all being said, managing my ADD is work. It stays lodged in my anxious and busy mind. It’s the oil that keeps the anxiety gears running at full speed. It’s sitting down to write and then googling the entire royal family of Saudi Arabia (god damn they are rich!) It’s feeling stupid for all of those years in school. It’s feeling like if you could only try harder, things would fall into place. It’s forgetting things. It’s feeling like organization and control will always be out of reach. It’s depression. It’s loneliness. It’s feeling like you’ve lost a chunk of your life, especially if you’ve been diagnosed beyond childhood. It’s a battle upstream. But it’s a battle I’m going to win. There are good days and bad days. Days when I can get everything down in my planner. Days when I can peacefully clean the apartment. Days where I can forgive myself for having this thing.
For a period of time I thought I had caused it myself. Maybe I watched too much tv or spent too much time on the internet. Maybe, growing up, I didn’t read enough. I still come back to this line of thinking, only to be kindly reassured by my therapist that I didn’t choose this. You can’t catch ADD. When I try to visualize it, I picture a tangled ball of hair that I want to cut out but have to condition. I’m stuck with it and all the accompanying feelings of shame, sadness and anxiety (more on those later). I truly hope that one day I won’t need meds but for now I will surrender and continue to manage, knowing I am fully capable of doing so.
3 Types of Plants That Will Make Your Bedroom Look Like THE Tree House In George Of The Jungle
Picture this! You’re deep in the African Jungle. You’ve just awoken from an accident involving a beautiful man with a habit of crashing into trees. You ponder your surroundings for a moment, slowly reacquainting yourself with reality. “Cool pad,” you think. “I should be scared, but God damn, this treehouse is delightful!” It’s true. Not only does the abode include an automatic juicer, hammocks, and a FREAKING BAMBOO ELEVATOR, it’s also sustainable with running water and nearby fruit trees. The views from the front deck, made from a surfboard (sustainable!), are perfect for a romantic evening of sunset watching followed by dancing around the fire to Johnny Clegg & Savuka's Dela (I Think I Know Why The Dog Howls At The Moon). The treehouse is surrounded by acres of lush greenery and is about a five-minute vine swing to the waterfall.
All of a sudden, you hear that famous jungle call, and before you can say, “Watch out for that tree!” Brendan Fraser comes swinging through the living room with an arm full of bananas. “I could get used to this life!” you think just as you’re rudely awakened by your tap-dancing upstairs neighbor. The jungle?! The treehouse?! BRENDAN?! It was all a dream. But this dream can become a half-assed reality with some (all of them) simple house plants. Here are a few buds that will surely turn your living space into an oasis that would make the film’s production designers proud.
1. POTHOS
This shit gets everywhere. It’s the glitter of houseplants, so it’s perfect for building your jungle. Its vines can easily reach 10 feet, not enough to swing from but plenty enough to hide from your roommate. These beauties can survive low-light and irregular watering, which is perfect if you’re lazy or don’t have windows.
2. ROBELLINI PALM
Any decent DIY jungle needs at least one variety of palm trees, and the Robellini Palm is the perfect miniature option. These tropical babies can typically be found in the courtyards of Florida royalty, but they also look great on each side of a rope bridge. Despite having an Italian first name, its leaves can be rather sharp, so I’d advise not to having it near your hammock.
3. YUCCA PLANT
Nothing says “I only wear tablecloths” like a Yucca. With over 40 species, this plant comes in a wide variety of shapes and sizes, so you might as well get all of them. They’re drought tolerant and have adapted to a range of climates. Another great option for the lazy. This plant does the job for you. Your jungle will basically grow itself.
What’s important to remember when growing your jungle is the more, the merrier. Specific types of plants don’t necessarily matter as long as there are five on every surface. Don’t stop collecting. If one dies, buy two more. Never EVER leave home depot without a plant. Hydrate your plants more than you hydrate yourself. Once you’ve created an entirely new ecosystem, you can officially refer to your home as a treehouse.
