This is me in Hollywood circa 1974.
During this time I was modeling, a groupie, and a documentary photographer.
I hung out with artist, musicians, groupies, photographers actors and actresses. Many of my friends were transsexuals both pre and post-op, others were queens who would by the end of the decade start being called transgender.
My friends were different races and ethnicities.
But they had one thing in common, they were interesting people.
We were a better world at that point before the rise of the rabid right wing. Before the ethos of Ayn Rand. Before the idea that you weren’t some one unless you were crushing someone else.Now we have little Hitlers to the right of us and little Stalins to the left of us, all demanding blind unquestioning allegiance to their particular dogma.
Me… I’d rather have interesting friend, save the planet, end this corporatist version of cancer stage capitalism and replace it with a sustainable form of socialism.
I’m older now and perhaps wiser. I don’t like bullies and I don’t like being expected to either join lynch mobs or look for windmills to attack.
Quenyar made a comment about sisters who have a lot of plastic surgery to create themselves. We get very judgmental about that but ignore body builders or people who have sleeves or even full body tattoos.
I get extremely tired people especial TS/TG people looking for something to pick on about another sister.
I’m really harsh about the silicone pumping because it is done by quacks. Yesterday I read an article about a woman who became a quad-amputee as a result of amateur pumping.
But while I’ve wondered about some of my friend’s ability to know when to stop with the plastic surgery I understand the impulse.
Mostly because I don’t know what lengths I might have gone to if I hadn’t looked the way I did.
So I can’t use the line, “I never had a bunch of plastic surgery, so why should you.” If I say that I’m being kind of hypocritical since I wasn’t in a place where it would make me prettier or more passable.