Doggin' It
Another odd L.A. interlude from my Round The World In Drag journey, for the amusement of Jo,-
Just a Quick One, Jo (You hope!)
I was in the Parade yesterday – I thought you’d be wondering how it all went. Off, I don’t have to remind you, to support the pugs. Corinne had rung at the last minute with a contact but by now I was just glad to be in it somewhere so I passed on that one. It was the pugs for me.
A Sunday Parade, in 85+ degrees – whose idea was this? I set off early, with a bag of supplies, wearing my flatties until I got to the Parade start, and then it could be the silver boots. Silver gear, pretty much a la Mardi Gras but with the blue hair. It was all quiet on the Boulevard. People looking at me like I was coming back from a party not going to a Parade. Loads of floats though. I was looking for Space 100 though, and of course it was on a side-street and, of course, nobody was there, so I sheltered in the shade with a man covered with birds. Then Linda turns up, she’s another of the Little Angels people. And Dave, another one, with dogs. First major down of the day, time for respectful silence – Belinda Carlisle’s dog has died. And Linda doesn’t know. Linda got her two pugs from the Little Angels and they look after them for her while she’s on tour. And one’s dead.
But, even in L.A, life goes on, and the dogs we have got are excitable. The trouble with dogs as I soon remembered is that they are live animals. They ruin your tights, need gallons of water, shit behind you on the grass and try to sick in your lap. And I get to hold them while everybody else is trying to fix up the float which comes late and has nothing on it and is hot as a griddle, far too hot to stand on – or put dogs on, especially sick, abused little pugs. So in no time at all one pug escapes, then they’ve got me tied up in their leads like a maypole, while Sherrie, Linda, another guy in a shirt and Dave are trying to fit a plastic garden gazebo to the truck. And failing. It’s 12.30 before we move off with a few dog-bowls and a carpet on board and, yes, my rainbow streamer from Mardi Gras trailing from the wing-mirror. The dogs need a lot of looking after, but I stand in the middle of the tailboard ready to draw everybody’s attention to them. A right and a left and we’re on the Boulevard.
Oh, it was so slow, but the crowds were big, and thickest on the stretch after the Ramada. So much for the Mandy touch – the dogs were the stars! I did get some attention, between falling backwards and forwards as the truck lurched along. We had baskets on the float and people came forwards with money, and we gave them leaflets. People ran up and cuddled them, and kissed them and Sherrie and Linda waved the dogs’ paws at the crowd. Everybody ooohed and aaahed, even all the cloney-boys and pierced queens with their heavy gear on. If I die I’ll have to come back as a poodle at least. I boogied to my own tune, well, the ghetto-blaster we’ve got on board, or tunes from the other floats. I’m going to have a good time whatever. It’s summer Sunday, L.A, and there’s a touch of breeze.
There are actually three dog-floats, one a car, all in line, one for PAWS which is something to do with Animal Welfare. At least there’s a few floats behind us. And then Dave says, “Mandy, here are some friends of yours.” And I turn in my boogieing to see a tent on a traffic–island, in it Anthony and, before the float lurches some more and hauls us away, Scott. “He shouts, “It’s Miss Bel-Air!” I can hardly remember what he looked like when he wasn’t Miss Bel-Air but they were both shouting Hi! At me until I was out of earshot. I saw the local TV transmission last night and all you get of me is a streak of silver falling over. My TV career is still in development, I guess. It was all a bit hectic.
Still I gladden the hearts of a few older men, we get sprayed a bit to cool us down and the money rolls in. But Little Angels needs lots of money, - We need you, Corinne – where are you? Actually I’ve seen a few of the floats before the Parade, and catch some as we dismount at the end, and Corinne is on a flash vintage car with the rest of the Imperial Court, looking very queeny indeed, followed a by a car-full of Crown Princesses with names like Avril and Brenda. And there are flag-twirlers, and gilt Egyptians, and twirlers of wooden rifles (Why?), a train-full of men from the local health-spa (and sauna no doubt), a woman on a cow, floats advertising lubricants, drinks, bars, two guys in body paint, (ah, Shane, where are you?), two in boots and feather masks – very buff – square-dancers, Transgender, Unity, Latino Pride (huge!), big inflatable things, a London bus, and loads of sports-convertibles with flowers on the bonnet. I was so hot and tired by now that I can’t remember half of it.
I needed a break, so I waved a fond goodbye to the Little Angels, asking them to let me know how much they collected, and wandered back up to the Motel through the drifting crowds. I got interviewed for a documentary, and again for some student joke, took lots of comments, most of them favourable. A black guy, well past his peak if you get my meaning, chatted me up. “Can I fuck you?” Not now, darling. “You on a period?” (!) “I’m looking for some ‘citement”, and I finally joined up with Amelia and William and their friends for a G&T in the Ramada where I found out that William liked being Wilhelmina (yes, I saw the photographs!), and somehow we ended up talking about things like Canada and parents and the law. Sight of the day on the last stretch home – a girl, - a girl-girl, - totally naked except for a pair of crystal heels walking up while everybody blinked and reached for their cameras, until she peeled off, joined a group of LAPD men who were posing with their motorbikes for a group-shot, and slipped herself in the line for the shutter-click. Only in L.A., I thought.
Later, after watching the TV broadcast I went back to the Park for the Party but I was almost the only drag there and I was shattered. It’s funny, you know, Jo, but there’s almost no semi-professional drag in L.A. They do it for money or they stay home. But for the joy of it, I was glad to be there.
And there’s lots more outings planned for this week. Expect more news soon.
All love
Mandy
- Original Publish Date
- 01 June 2001
- Archived Date
- 14 September 2022