Most Fashionable Reader! Zelda has dragged herself out of The Treacherous Abyss and has pulled herself to her feet to, well, face her demons head-on by writing about some form of some sort of journey into hell. Zelda is not one to rub salt in her wounds, Dear Reader, but she does have a fondness for rubbing alcohol.
James Joyce! Zelda has missed you so! Also Ulysses! Zelda cannot wait to go farther with you! Maybe even third base! And Vivienne! Zelda has missed you more! Zelda has missed you most!
The video below is something that has made Zelda feel better lately. It is a sweet little song — Zelda had forgotten about it until she heard it whilst getting her hair styled last week. Zelda feels the lyrics would have been a tad more cohesive, however, had Anna Nalick written it when she was a little older. Ah, well.
“My God! It’s so beautiful when the boy! Smiles!”
The writing on the wall
Fade past the unglazed mug, the shampoo commercial, the Still Life with Waterfall. Fingers blunt with cold. The sound of an old film. Aspirin tablets, chicken salad sandwiches. Extension cords round the room like lions. The smell of the weak, the descent of their last end –
Zelda was fully prepared to post this entry last night, Dearest Reader, but, instead, she has been looping the video of Tori Amos performing “Professional Widow” that Our Most Fashionable Vivienne of Fashion posted in her most recent entry for seven hours straight. And, in honor of our Dearest Most Fashionable Vivienne, Zelda shall quote from Tori Amos regarding aforementioned song. Zelda shall show you these quotes, Reader, because they make sense. And, as Tori Amos fans know but do not like to admit, most of what comes out of Tori Amos’s mouth does not make much sense, so these quotes are truly a rarity, because they make perfect freaking sense. And, in actuality, they make the most sense of anything that Zelda has read this entire year, and they have caused Zelda to become obsessed with Tori Amos again, just like she was when she was an undergraduate. So these are some of the Fashionable Things Tori Amos has to say about “Professional Widow”:
“I am very interested in what is strong and what is weak in a person. Interested in my vision of self — how people see me instead of how I see myself. I’ll pull out each part of this being that is judged harshly, and some of these parts are extreme. For instance, ‘Professional Widow’ is an extreme part. It can get hard because I want to be king. All of us women want to be king but we have to be queens. You know, it’s like Lady Macbeth or something.” (from The Dent)
“That’s my Lady Macbeth, the side of me that wanted power. But power in a man’s world. I wanted to be Indiana Jones, not the girlfriend. But as I began to do that I started to alienate many men. ‘Widow’ is my hunger for the energy I felt some of the men in my life possessed: the ability to be king. I wasn’t content just being a muse. I was the creative force. I was in relationships with different men where if they could honour that, they couldn’t honour the woman, and if they could honour the woman, they couldn’t honour the creative force.” (from Pop Idol)
And, my personal favorite:
“Professional Widow is the Lady Macbeth archetype. There are many ways to play Lady Macbeth. It can be done in a Jackie O suit.” (from YesSaid)
Yes! Yes! Yes! A thousand resounding shouts for playing Lady Freaking Macbeth in a Jackie Freaking O suit! Yes! Yes! Yes!
PROPORTION, BOY! IT’S GOTTA BE BIG, I SAID. YOU BETTER BE BIG, BOY!
James Joyce is making Zelda write these things, Dear Reader. It’s all his fault. And with that statement, Zelda moves a smidgen closer to The Ulysses Experiment. . .
But first! Zelda must make a public declaration! To make this public declaration publicly, however, Zelda must first make a rather embarrassing and shameful admission. Zelda must say publicly that she was laid off in August. Zelda must say publicly that she is now unemployed. Zelda must say publicly that she has had no luck in finding employment since being laid off in August. Zelda must say publicly that she has absolutely no money. Zelda must say publicly that cheese has now become an unaffordable luxury in her sad little Household of One.
Now, Zelda can make her public declaration. So here it is:
But seriously, Reader. Zelda doesn’t want to hear it. This is rather difficult for Zelda, for even Zelda’s mother admits that Zelda is a nurturer (among many other things). Stop laughing, Reader — it’s true, Zelda swears.
No transition.
Zelda is mentioning a funeral, methods of death, a raincoat, and a hat in exercise below. And also: for those of you who feel the need to call Zelda and freak out about the freaking economy (Zelda is mostly — but not completely — referring to a non-parental member of her immediate family here, one who will never read her HyacinthGirls.com musings), Zelda has provided an educational Electric Company clip for you below.
Everybody’s in a little pain every once and a while. You’re not the only one. So what do you really gain? It makes no sense to complain!
Cadavers suspended from cloud formations. Notyetwinter means unlined raincoats. The rain like sleet on the unemployment line stretching past the parking lot that cigarettesmoking procession playing a scratched record three tombstones down from your loved one. A man on his cellphone touching his tophat. I am forgetting your tears. To feel comfortable about the dead, break them into pieces. Send my cinders home to Mother.
Dearest, Most Fashionable Reader: Zelda has a problem. Now, Zelda realizes that she is hardly back in the saddle when it comes to the dating scene, since Roxette was still releasing new music when she last dated, but she felt that certain statements would still ring true within the dating world. Such as: if two people have massive quantities of sex over an extended period of time, then they will be forced to come up for air eventually and, during aforementioned air gathering, they would, perhaps, get a bite or two to eat or watch a movie. Such as: if two people go to restaurants and the cinema together, if two people spend time out in public together and enjoy aforementioned time, then they will eventually end up enjoying the other’s, ah, company in the bedroom. These two statements have not rung true for Zelda, Reader. Zelda illustrates this with the following illustration:
And, like Dearest, Dearest Vivienne, I can offer you no transition to this imaginary letter written to an imaginary person from an imaginary person, which was inspired by Martha’s letter to Leopold Bloom a/k/a Henry Flower Esq. I can offer you only the video below — which is Liz Phair performing the fabulous “Flower” live. Unlike most of her live performances, however, this one is actually quite good. There’s even an extra verse at the end!
Also, Reader: Zelda would like to apologize for the nastiness (hers as well as Liz Phair’s) in the letter below but would also like to blame it on James Joyce.
the masochist says hit me and the sadist says no
naughty you no massaging your silly thinskin your babyfine headhair your naughtynaughty slapsore cock pam grier from a cheap frame watching us fuck and my fingers splaying and pressing your headboard (moving to livingroom) pam grier from a cheap frame watching us fuck and your cock being fucked on the sofa you like to be fucked your cock to be smacked and pulled I have noticed your eyes railroading me with want (with your hair I am making saltwater taffy) I wait for the want to escape your lips for naughtyyou to say –
Dearest Reader: do you remember the set of books called The Survival Series for Kids? It consisted of 28 books, ranging from What to Do When Your Mom or Dad Says . . . BEHAVE IN PUBLIC! to What to Do When Your Mom or Dad Says . . . BE PREPARED! Zelda’s two favorites were What to Do When Your Mom or Dad Says . . . BE GOOD! and What to Do When Your Mom or Dad Says . . . DO SOMETHING BESIDES WATCHING TV! Remember, Dear Reader: the ellipses and the exclamation points are very important. Zelda also loved the books because they were one of those Written by / Pictures by deals, and the illustrator’s name was Bartholomew. Simply Bartholomew. Zelda found that incredibly fabulous, for it reminded her of Madonna.
Now, it’s always good to have a plan in certain situations, Dearest Reader. [And yes, Zelda is aware that this entry is sounding more and more like a daily devotional.] And today, O Reader, Zelda would like to share how she deals with one of her unmentionables.
Which brings me to, right after these ellipses . . . A SHANE MACGOWAN VIDEO! ABOUT! DRINKING! IN WHICH! HE IS! SOBER! Or looks it anyway. This most fabulous video also stars (& was directed by) the Delectable Johnny Depp in 1994, back when Johnny Depp was still delectable. Near the end of the video, you will see someone dancing on a bar table in the background. This, my Dearest, Fashionable Readers, would be Zelda.
Head straight for the bar and get a glass of ginger ale.
I’ve had my share. Not on Thursdays, darling. No. No. No, but thanks. It wouldn’t mix well with the antipsychotics. Not with these boots on, dear. But I’m already holding one. No thanks. I’m good. I’ve had enough already. Thanks, but no.
Most Fashionable Reader! Thanks to the Most Fashionable and Infinitely Brilliant Vivienne, Zelda now has a clearer understanding of what Section Three of Ulysses is about. All hail Vivienne! All hail that Mighty Hyacinth Girl!
Zelda does not, however, understand what she came up with for her writing assignment. She can merely reveal to you, Most Fashionable Reader, what she was doing whilst writing: watching an alarming documentary about compulsive hoarders on The Learning Channel (it is a true disorder! it gets worse as you get older! it is inherited! but, thankfully, drugs are being developed to treat it!); listening to Neutral Milk Hotel’s In the Aeroplane over the Sea (o glorious brilliance and light!); and playing Wrestler on Facebook (Zelda is quite addicted, Reader). These facts being more interesting than the actual exercise itself.
And now Zelda must respond to Fashionable Vivienne’s entry of a few days ago — the one in which Vivienne mentions “Blinded by the Light.” Zelda will confess that every time the song “Blinded by the Light” comes on the radio, her heart skips a beat, and the beat that is skipped is replaced with SHEER JOY. Not because of aforementioned song, of course, but because Zelda thinks that aforementioned song’s beginning is another song’s beginning — the other song being the most fabulous and fantastic “Disco Inferno.” Zelda always giggles when she thinks of “Disco Inferno,” Dear Reader, for, when she was in the ninth grade, one of her BFFs got into trouble during Study Hall because she was singing “Disco Inferno,” and this BFF had to write burn baby burn disco inferno burn baby burn one thousand times. So imagine for a moment, Fashionable Reader, Zelda’s dismay every time she realized that “Blinded by the Light” is not “Disco Inferno.”
Zelda has thoughtfully provided the video for “Disco Inferno” below. Do not be fooled by the first ten seconds of the video below, Dear Reader. After those ten seconds, there is Infinite Fashion that is comparable to the Fashion of the Most Fashionable Dolly Parton.
Handful of Dust
A ghostwoman with ashes incredibly frustrated. I still must dress the character. The milk jugs floating past those books I was going to write. This first draft is lifting her clothes still more and pissing on the jetties. This first draft is the eighteenwheeler across the street. This first draft is the Penthouse on the sleeperfloor. Lemonade. A paraplegic. Empty beercans in the cooler. The plumber with the BMW. A rosemary bush as big as an import. The nailpolish marinates beside the window unit. I dreamed for about twenty-nine years. It was the end of the day, and I had nothing.
Well hello, Dearest, Most Fashionable Reader! Zelda will be giving you two things today: a woefully unfashionable prologue as well a woefully unfashionable attempt at “creativity.” The exercise is, as the Fashionable Vivienne described earlier, the description of a process, as inspired by the classroom scene in the second part of Ulysses. It was also inspired by a conversation Zelda had with the Most Fashionable Vivienne a few weeks ago — a conversation in which Vivienne was kind enough to describe to Zelda what Creating a Window meant.
Zelda offers you a video below, for as soon as she finished her exercise, she knew the perfect song to accompany it: “Out the Window” by the Violent Femmes. The video below is an interpretation of aforementioned song. It is a rather cutesy video when played with volume, but if one mutes the sound whilst playing the video, it becomes deliciously frightening.
Still Life with Plaster Wall
These are the things one needs, this is what one does, there will be a time to seek, to lose, to keep, to crumble the chalk into a vaguely rectangular shape, this forming a plaster wallwindow, this becoming a holeinthewall window from which one can view a man, the man becoming a potential eveningpartner once one reaches one’s hand into the wall hole, the hand being accompanied by a question in the form of a statement, such as I know of no small music venues near here or I am looking for a place that serves the perfect cupcake, the question in the form of a statement becoming an invitation to the potential eveningpartner to step into the wallwindow and join one in the vaguely rectangular shape of a bedroom.
Well, not really, for Zelda must admit that she had a bout of Unfashionibility and was unable to finish her piece for the day. She has an excuse: just as she was beginning her piece, she received a phone call from a cousin she had not seen in three years. This cousin was driving through town, and Zelda opted to visit with him instead of writing.
But! Zelda still wishes to post, because Zelda wishes to comment on Vivienne’s Springsteen statement in Vivienne’s most recent entry. Zelda wishes to comment, for Zelda WHOLEHEARTEDLY CONCURS. Springsteen sucks. Period. Zelda was highly incensed when Springsteen covered “Jesse James” on We Shall Overcome in 2006, because that was a folk song that The Pogues had covered on Rum, Sodomy, and the Lash way back in 1985.
Sadly, Zelda could find no fan video for The Pogues’ “Jesse James” on YouTube. So, instead of posting a video of Bruce Springsteen singing “Jesse James,” because, well, that would SUCK, Zelda is going to post a video of Cher singing “Just Like Jesse James,” for Zelda thinks Cher’s song is better than Springsteen’s version of “Jesse James.”
And, by the way: be forewarned. This will not be the last time Zelda mentions The Pogues.
Dearest, Most Fashionable Reader: I’ve a story to tell you. Earlier this evening, a Fashionable Friend and I went to eat dinner at a Very Fine Establishment. Soon after sitting down at this Very Fine Establishment, she and I heard the symphonic sound of Harley engines nearing. Now, even though I’m quite aware of the fact that most bikers aren’t as sexy as Gar from Mask, or even Mel Gibson during the Mad Max years, I can’t help but admit that every time I hear a Harley coming closer, my heart beats just a little bit faster. My heart can’t help but beat with hope, Dear Reader. But with hope. But I am afraid to say, Most Fashionable Reader, that the bikers who entered this Very Fine Establishment resembled neither Gar nor Mad Max Mel. But still: they sat right beside us, and that is where this story begins.
Unfashionably Grizzled Biker: You know that shop down the road? The one that woman owns?
Grizzled Biker of Unfashion: Ramona?
Unfashionably Grizzled Biker: Yeah.
Grizzled Biker of Unfashion: Is she really a woman?
Unfashionably Grizzled Biker: That’s the whole point. See I walked in there the other day. So I said, ‘Ramona did you know that some people don’t think you’re a woman?’ I said, ‘So Ramona are you a woman or a man?’
Grizzled Biker of Unfashion: Uh huh. [Insert wheezing laugh here.]
Unfashionably Grizzled Biker: So get this. She says, ‘You take me to the bar and buy me a shot and I’ll give you some.’ So yeah I got me some that night.
What is most interesting to me about the above conversation, Dear Reader, is the fact that the Unfashionably Grizzled Biker never revealed whether Ramona was male or female. So the end of this story will always be a mystery.
O yeah! The poem! For this exercise, the Most Fashionable Vivienne and I read the first section of Ulysses and responded with a real-time imaginary conversation with a person of our choosing.
What is implied through studies of use and meaning? Through the hissing up of petticoats?
The water boiling in White Kettle with Teabrown Interior. The square leafpouch waiting patiently by the mug. The tea whistle indiscernible from the bikerband across the asphalt, bikerband indiscernible from Television Snowblare in Livingroom. (There being no free drinks on this island.)
- – I think I should be able to free myself. I speak freely of the collector of precipices. After I left, he bought a birdcage from the auction.
The buttercups leaping from quilt to Fireplace during this Phase of the Secondhand Moon. A wasted body bending its waist. Many hours shifting house in Polkadotted Dress with Teabrown Armpits.
A chorus whirling.
- – I remember nothing. Only ideas. Sensations. An odor of incense. Breath.
Well hello! Welcome to this Missive of Fashion! Zelda realizes that it has been quite some time since she and the Most Fashionable Vivienne have written. Zelda is writing to you, Most Fashionable Reader, to reveal that she and the Most Fashionable Vivienne apologize for this travesty. Zelda is here to tell you, Most Fashionable Reader, that she and the Most Fashionable Vivienne will soon return to grace the presence of their very own blog. She and Vivienne are also here to tell you, Most Fashionable Reader, that you will not be disappointed when they do. Zelda and Vivienne will return to TheHyacinthGirls.com on the First of October, 2008. At present, they are getting quite comfortable in their alter-alter egos: Vivienne as Bette Davis, and Zelda as Joan Crawford.
Would you, Most Fashionable Reader, like to have a peek at what Vivienne and Zelda will be working on during the month of October? Here it is:
Don’t call it a comeback, Most Fashionable Readers; Vivienne and Zelda have been here for years.
For this post, Zelda shall continue her procrastination. But! Zelda is going to respond to a comment made by the Most Fashionable Marie on the Most Fashionable Vivienne’s recent Chimera of Fashion [which is, Most Fashionable Readers, the Most Fashionable Chimera Zelda has ever, ever seen. long live the Chimera of Fashion! long live Vivienne! hooray!]. The Most Fashionable Marie’s comment was as follows:
Tell me, if you please, how will you revise these various text-based creations? Do you have an endgame in mind? Because of the stringent parameters you set yourself, I wonder if these loosen later on… Or is there no later on, only TODAY?
Zelda would really, really, really love to hear what Vivienne has to say about this. Zelda is still too afraid to revisit her NaPoWriMoFa [National Poetry Month of Fashion] poems to see if anything can be salvaged, so she does not feel as if she can answer Marie’s questions right now. However! Zelda CAN offer the very first Chimera she ever wrote many, many moons ago as well as some revisions that were made to it.
For this Chimera, Zelda used a paragraph from Madeleine L’Engle’s A Wrinkle in Time as her base text. She extracted verbs from Andrea Dworkin’s Intercourse. Nouns and adjectives were taken from The Modern Conductor by Elizabeth A.H. Green (2nd ed) and Inventing the Public Enemy: The Gangster in American Culture, 1918-1934 by David E. Ruth.
The unedited Chimera is as follows:
Without intercourse, lodging as a cultural and generic woman, she heard a possession she had never expressed, as though she were remaining completely projected out by a particular thrust. This was far more colorful than the surrendering had been; while she was fucking there was no need to proceed, but now her spirit was acknowledged so that although she was extricating herself from all embarrassments for want of dominance, there was no way for her spirit to prove and receive, to detect the invasion that she must demonstrate. This was completely fragmentary — emanating influence while she succumbed to the creed and approached the individuals to answer them. She scoffed resistance, but her smiling fist couldn’t wait. She sprung — she was conducting in order to appear; her form was perplexed along with the physicality of her. Her obsession tried to celebrate; it gave a violent, contemporary inquisition, but it could not plead interpretation.
A later, revised draft:
The Female Conductor
Days since she last fucked, lights on
in her neighborhood after three a.m., hours until
the milk expired. She counted
and sprung, turned her energy outward.
She conducted in order to appear.
In theory, it had always been more
colorful than surrendering. When she was fucking,
however, there had been no need for answers.
She could dominate social transactions.
She could remember to be cordial.
But now that her own potency was acknowledged,
now that she’d extricated her self
from pressing circumstances to be
thrust into this
directly conscious life, there was little
tangible progress. Only indifference. Especially
among her colleagues. She could not even sit
with them at lunch. She began to search
for surrogate institutions. She moved
her couch outside for a better view.
It still needed work after all those revisions, of course, but Zelda feels that it became a much stronger piece after the revisions.
And that is all, Most Fashionable Reader, for Zelda feels that she will take her Most Fashionably Fabulous Friend D’s advice and go to bed now.
Well hello!
Are you looking for poems?
Are you looking for fashion?
Are you looking for fashionable poems and poems of fashion?
Are you looking for poems, fashion, fashionable poems, poems of fashion, Courtney Love, Bret Michaels, Slash, and Brenda Dickson?
Then you've come to the right place!
The Hyacinth Girls welcome you to their blog.
It's very dramatic.
Posted by zeldafitzgerald 
Zelda was fully prepared to post this entry last night, Dearest Reader, but, instead, she has been looping the video of Tori Amos performing “Professional Widow” that Our Most Fashionable Vivienne of Fashion posted in her most recent entry for seven hours straight. And, in honor of our Dearest Most Fashionable Vivienne, Zelda shall quote from Tori Amos regarding aforementioned song. Zelda shall show you these quotes, Reader, because they make sense. And, as Tori Amos fans know but do not like to admit, most of what comes out of Tori Amos’s mouth does not make much sense, so these quotes are truly a rarity, because they make perfect freaking sense. And, in actuality, they make the most sense of anything that Zelda has read this entire year, and they have caused Zelda to become obsessed with Tori Amos again, just like she was when she was an undergraduate. So these are some of the Fashionable Things Tori Amos has to say about “Professional Widow”:
“That’s my Lady Macbeth, the side of me that wanted power. But power in a man’s world. I wanted to be Indiana Jones, not the girlfriend. But as I began to do that I started to alienate many men. ‘Widow’ is my hunger for the energy I felt some of the men in my life possessed: the ability to be king. I wasn’t content just being a muse. I was the creative force. I was in relationships with different men where if they could honour that, they couldn’t honour the woman, and if they could honour the woman, they couldn’t honour the creative force.” (from 
But first! Zelda must make a public declaration! To make this public declaration publicly, however, Zelda must first make a rather embarrassing and shameful admission. Zelda must say publicly that she was laid off in August. Zelda must say publicly that she is now unemployed. Zelda must say publicly that she has had no luck in finding employment since being laid off in August. Zelda must say publicly that she has absolutely no money. Zelda must say publicly that cheese has now become an unaffordable luxury in her sad little Household of One.
But seriously, Reader. Zelda doesn’t want to hear it. This is rather difficult for Zelda, for even Zelda’s mother admits that Zelda is a nurturer (among many other things). Stop laughing, Reader — it’s true, Zelda swears.
Posted by zeldafitzgerald 
Dearest, Most Fashionable Reader: Zelda has a problem. Now, Zelda realizes that she is hardly back in the saddle when it comes to the dating scene, since 
Posted by zeldafitzgerald 
Well, not really, for Zelda must admit that she had a bout of Unfashionibility and was unable to finish her piece for the day. She has an excuse: just as she was beginning her piece, she received a phone call from a cousin she had not seen in three years. This cousin was driving through town, and Zelda opted to visit with him instead of writing.
Dearest, Most Fashionable Reader: I’ve a story to tell you. Earlier this evening, a Fashionable Friend and I went to eat dinner at a Very Fine Establishment. Soon after sitting down at this Very Fine Establishment, she and I heard the symphonic sound of Harley engines nearing. Now, even though I’m quite aware of the fact that most bikers aren’t as sexy as Gar from Mask, or even Mel Gibson during the Mad Max years, I can’t help but admit that every time I hear a Harley coming closer, my heart beats just a little bit faster. My heart can’t help but beat with hope, Dear Reader. But with hope. But I am afraid to say, Most Fashionable Reader, that the bikers who entered this Very Fine Establishment resembled neither Gar nor Mad Max Mel. But still: they sat right beside us, and that is where this story begins.
Unfashionably Grizzled Biker: You know that shop down the road? The one that woman owns?
Dearest, Most Fashionable Reader:
For this post, Zelda shall continue her procrastination. But! Zelda is going to respond to a comment made by the Most Fashionable Marie on the Most Fashionable Vivienne’s recent Chimera of Fashion [which is, Most Fashionable Readers, the Most Fashionable Chimera Zelda has ever, ever seen. long live the Chimera of Fashion! long live Vivienne! hooray!]. The Most Fashionable Marie’s comment was as follows:
Zelda would really, really, really love to hear what Vivienne has to say about this. Zelda is still too afraid to revisit her NaPoWriMoFa [National Poetry Month of Fashion] poems to see if anything can be salvaged, so she does not feel as if she can answer Marie’s questions right now. However! Zelda CAN offer the very first Chimera she ever wrote many, many moons ago as well as some revisions that were made to it.
Without intercourse, lodging as a cultural and generic woman, she heard a possession she had never expressed, as though she were remaining completely projected out by a particular thrust. This was far more colorful than the surrendering had been; while she was fucking there was no need to proceed, but now her spirit was acknowledged so that although she was extricating herself from all embarrassments for want of dominance, there was no way for her spirit to prove and receive, to detect the invasion that she must demonstrate. This was completely fragmentary — emanating influence while she succumbed to the creed and approached the individuals to answer them. She scoffed resistance, but her smiling fist couldn’t wait. She sprung — she was conducting in order to appear; her form was perplexed along with the physicality of her. Her obsession tried to celebrate; it gave a violent, contemporary inquisition, but it could not plead interpretation.