Dance, Magic, Dance
WFUV out of Fordham (which is, by the way, my new favorite radio station, a permanent desktop fixture in my 8:30 to 5:30 life now that I have some speakers in my office...check it out) is running a David Bowie tribute today. Turns out, Mr. Bowie is the big 6-0.
Which I find incredibly creepy, because David Bowie was my first sexual crush, back before I even knew what sex was. My third-grade self really wanted to do Bowie (not that I knew what wanting to "do" someone would actually entail), and now he's 60. I know I have a penchant for older men, but c'mon...this is a bit ridiculous.
Not that I think I'm the only pre-teenage girl in the world to get the hots for Bowie. Have you seen Labyrinth? David dancing around, swiveling his hips in those skin tight pants, revealing a, well, bulge bigger than one might think possible? Glammed out with make-up and bigger hair, looking oh-so vulnerable and available while cuddling a baby? Still wearing those, um, pants? In fact, I can't recall a single conversation with anyone about that movie (and being one of my all-time favorites, I've had more than a few such conversations) that didn't center on the state of Bowie's lower body. It's so damn obvious, how could you not talk about it?
10 year old me, staring at the TV, trying not to stare at Bowie's package, not even knowing why I wanted to stare at his package but having a vague feeling that I wasn't supposed to (but why, I also wasn't sure), and thus wanting to all the more so. Ah, the lure of the forbidden.
And now Bowie is 60.
And all the third-grader left in me can think is, "ewwwww."
Which I find incredibly creepy, because David Bowie was my first sexual crush, back before I even knew what sex was. My third-grade self really wanted to do Bowie (not that I knew what wanting to "do" someone would actually entail), and now he's 60. I know I have a penchant for older men, but c'mon...this is a bit ridiculous.
Not that I think I'm the only pre-teenage girl in the world to get the hots for Bowie. Have you seen Labyrinth? David dancing around, swiveling his hips in those skin tight pants, revealing a, well, bulge bigger than one might think possible? Glammed out with make-up and bigger hair, looking oh-so vulnerable and available while cuddling a baby? Still wearing those, um, pants? In fact, I can't recall a single conversation with anyone about that movie (and being one of my all-time favorites, I've had more than a few such conversations) that didn't center on the state of Bowie's lower body. It's so damn obvious, how could you not talk about it?
10 year old me, staring at the TV, trying not to stare at Bowie's package, not even knowing why I wanted to stare at his package but having a vague feeling that I wasn't supposed to (but why, I also wasn't sure), and thus wanting to all the more so. Ah, the lure of the forbidden.
And now Bowie is 60.
And all the third-grader left in me can think is, "ewwwww."
posted by Melissa at 12:46 PM
4 Comments:
My favorite part is pairing Bowie up on screen with several waist-height muppets, leading to lots of closeups on a muppet's face alongside the Bulge. Which I always thought was fake...
You should write about posing for my pictures. :) That would be fun to read.
Your Photographer
I certainly should write about *something*. I have not felt terribly inspired as of late...hoping that changes soon!
Good for people to know.
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