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In the pre-sex positivity, pre-Paris Hilton days, being a woman who talked about sex with a recognizable last name was like having a scarlet letter on your chest. I want to thank the haters referenced here who talked shit for motivating me. I may not have been grateful at the time, but I sure as fuck am now.
When I was making my documentary, Pretty Things, I was part of an all-girl band called Hot Lunch, for which I was a singer and songwriter. This is 2001/2002 early indie-sleaze scene in NYC. We made our own beats and sang 4 part harmonies, with songs about being “Big in Japan” and “Ladies who lunch” —the Shangri-Las meets electroclash.
By 2003, I was married and living full time in LA, deep into filming Pretty Things, which had received a few prestigious grants for funding. This was no easy task, as getting grants to research/document burlesque/ gender studies/ANYTHING related to sexuality was extremely challenging 20+ years ago (tbh not sure much has changed.) I had just applied for a competitive fellowship with strong letters of support. As I mentioned in PINUPS, academia was the world I wanted (and wanted this work) to belong to. I spent my days in dusty archives and loved every second of it. This particular fellowship meant as much to me as being nominated for an Oscar would have.
Meanwhile…my Hot Lunch bandmates were planning a gig at a party they were throwing in New York. While waiting for the next round of filming with my burlesque queens to begin, I flew back East for it. I’d directed an arty music video for a track we had, Syncopation Condensation, produced by the legendary producer, Mario Caldato Jr., of then Beastie Boys fame, aka Mario C can’t front on that. We projected the film at the party, and proceeded to dance all night, not thinking too much about the several professional flash cameras that were taking photos of the festivities.
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Below the paywall the story continues with…Page Six, the National Enquirer, getting publicly blasted for directing porn, googling yourself, trolls with a media byline, shamed at Hollywood parties and more….PLUS a “THANK YOU TO MY HATERS” playlist