Jordan, left: “I see that you have once again misunderstood my very specific directives about our attire this evening. I hope you’re proud of yourself.”
Joseph, right: “I misunderstood nothing. You said that I was to wear a formal tie and a boutonnière. I have done both, despite my misgivings and general disaffection for anything you might have to say to me.”
Jordan: “First of all, that boutonnière is wretched. It looks like you barely survived an encounter with a gastrically-challenged pigeon. And second, I can’t believe you would call that a tie. Was there an incident with a threshing machine in your dressing room? Perhaps the pigeon flew into the mechanics and things went awry?”
Joseph: “I fail to see how any roughage on my chest will even register compared to the flotsam and jetsam you have wound around your ears. Are you trying to get a better wi-fi signal in your wing of the manor?”
Jordan: “How dare you criticize my beribboning?”
Joseph: “Beribboning? That isn’t even an actual word. And it’s certainly not the one I would use to describe the travesty of your coiffure.”
Jordan: “That just proves how amazingly out of touch you are, Joseph. The spell-check function on this document didn’t have a problem with the word, so neither should you. And beribboning is all the rage these days in all the proper social circles, something you would know if you didn’t spend all of your time swilling vats of vodka and working on that insipid blog of yours.”
Joseph: “As we have discussed so many times that I could practically scream, that blog you have such disdain for is the only reason we are still married. It allows me to release my frustrations in the form of clever allegories that disguise the real truth. Just like that fake-ass necklace that you are wearing. I don’t know why you insist on sporting a cheap duplicate, when we both know you sold the real one to pay for your surgery.”
Jordan: “I can’t believe that you just went there.”
Joseph: “Why not? Because we are there. I’m tired of pretending that we’re not. In fact, when this interview starts, I’m going to confirm the rumors and make a clean slate of it.”
Jordan: “You wouldn’t dare!”
Joseph: “Watch me.”
TV Producer, rushing onto the set: “Okay, the interview is about to start. We go live in three, two, one…”
Geraldine, interviewer: “Thank you for joining us this evening, Lord and Lady Bratwurst. I’m very excited about getting to ask you a few questions and-”
Lady Bratwurst: “My husband used to be a woman!”
Lord Bratwurst: “Wait, what? No, that isn’t true. My wife used to be a man!”
Geraldine, eyes aglow with the prospect of such a delicious revelation: “Lord Bratwurst, why have you hidden your sexual identity for all these years?”
Lord Bratwurst: “But I haven’t! She’s the one that’s lying. Or he, really. Or used to be. Why are you focusing on me?”
Geraldine, feigning empathy for the cameras: “Lord Brat, it’s okay. We’re here to support you, even if none of this mess was in the original script penned by our writing staff. Tell me, when did you first realize that things were amiss with your sexual identity?”
Lord Bratwurst: “But I didn’t! Why are you believing her over me?”
Geraldine, feigning sympathy for the cameras: “I understand your confusion, but of course we’re going to believe Lady Bratwurst. After all, she’s beribboned. And everyone knows that beribboning is all the rage these days. You seem to have fought a pigeon and lost, and that doesn’t read well on TV. After the break, perhaps we can discuss the apparent threshing incident as well.”
TV Producer: “Cut to commercial!”
Note: None of the preceding should be taken in any way as a negative view of gender dysphoria or those who are dealing with such. I wholeheartedly support everyone’s right to be the person they were meant to be. But I don’t support beribboning. It’s just not pretty.
Cheers.
Categories: Past Imperfect
Sometimes less is more. Reminds me of a wedding write-up in a small town newspaper. ‘The ring-bearer wore knee socks and boutonnière.’
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Small-town newspaper, eh? Having a flashback? Said in mere jest, of course. As if I didn’t know about such things… 😉
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I had my doubts about er, Jordan? (don’t you just LOVE genderless names?) from the first peep at the photo. They were confirmed. Thanks. (S)he just doesn’t grasp the concept of less is more (as Peggy so artfully pointed out). But I used to be a fan of RuPaul’s Drag Race (before all the commercialism made me gag…but I suppose even famous people gotta earn money). I learned that some Queens are fond of the more is less concept. But beribboning? A fad the world is well rid of… Ugh. Poor Joseph.
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Truth be told, I actually googled “genderless names” before deciding on the “female” character’s moniker. I went with “Jordan” only because I’d already decided that the “male” character looked like a “Joseph” and I was partial to the mild alliteration, but I was stunned by the number of names that are considered “genderless”. One of them was Ariadne. Really? I guess I don’t get out of the house often enough…
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Beribboning is only good for those moments when you need a ribbon at short notice to strangle someone with.
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I think that’s a very valid assessment. Beribboning is justified when you need to take someone down. If not, well, it’s just a really poor accessory choice…
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yep.
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Chuckle.
Beribboning is now an official word.
However in my vocab, I am imagining it to mean much different things than you intended.
Like…
Beribboning my wrists to a bedpost…
Beribboning my mouth with a silky scarf…
UN-beribboning various other things, corset shaped perhaps.
I say these filthy things safely around here because they can’t possibly have any effect on you… right???!
Love ya and your crazy self
M
💜🔥
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You can always say things safely around here. Bonnywood is a judgement-free haven for writers, intellectuals, dreamers, social drinkers who might overdo it a bit, and the bondage-curious….
Love ya back…
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Aw… you think I’m…. intellectual????
Such charm..
Lol
😉💋
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Is beribboning the forerunner of bedazzled? If so, you are right to condemn it. I fully support you on this.
Though really, I can’t imagine what a pigeon did to deserve such a ruffled end.
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You have wisely connected the dots in the historical chain of unwise personal embellishments.
As for the pigeon, well, word on the street is that Pudge the Pigeon has been eating things he shouldn’t. Perhaps we can stage an intervention…
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This is hilarious and the photo a perfect example of early Hollywood’s bizarre take on period costuming. It was usually clownish with the exception of a few. Saratoga Trunk had perfect costuming for the women. The men were not done as accurately but not ridiculous. It’s a picky thing with me because I grew up wearing period clothes when I worked in my aunt’s museum.
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I am absolutely enthralled with this aspect of you wearing period clothing in your aunt’s museum, as this is a biographical note that most people will never be able to truthfully share. But I’ll put that aside for a later, more-detailed discussion.
Old Hollywood costume designers just made it up as they went. After all, the majority of the viewing audience wouldn’t have had a clue about whether they hit the mark or not…
I personally relish good costume design. It’s all about the tiny accuracy. We are currently watching the third season of “Versailles”, a series that has its good and bad points story-wise but, at least for me, is a beautiful example of costume design (and set design). Either the budget is enormous or they have have some very resourceful folks on the design teams. (Possibly both?) There are so many scenes that are brief in nature, yet they are filled with cast members frolicking about in exquisite couture, with none of that mess where the principal actors are sheathed glowingly but the extras are winging it in substandard dress. Everyone, even the quick-glimpse actors, are quite delicious…
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I’m going to check out this series. Aunt Marie was a seamstress and collected so many period clothes, still packed in boxes and unopened, that she clothed entire casts and parades. When movie pre-production teams came to town, they always stopped to talk with her first. One filmed in the museum, Jan Troell’s The Emigrants. Aunt Marie loved Liv Ullmann and pressed her costume for the scene. Blog story about her: https://historyfanforever.wordpress.com//?s=Aunt+marie&search=Go
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