Sinister: You make me wanna...

[Lucy Alder]

Dear old Sinister

How I love it when the student types among us return to their free-use
computers and the list explodes into frenzied argument.

For the record, I own two pairs of mary janes (one red, one blue), a pair
of ballet slippers (black) and several pairs of kick-ass ultra-high
stilettos, with which I will stab you in various parts of the body so that
you kind of resemble Saint Sebastian, if only he were patron saint of
cobblers instead of Bartholomew, if you ever DARE to call me twee.

I’ve liked Ian’s posts and agree with Mr Hewitt that he’s describing
something quite right and legitimate, just with the wrong word.  Would
good, old-fashioned Sensitivity work?  But reclaim twee and give it
positive connotations if you must.  It’s been done with other words, after
all.

I am glad there is so much talk about people liking the Aislers Set. 
Anyone wishing to discuss the T-word with Miss Linton may come to the
Winchester Club on October 17th for an EENOI (that’s Extremely Exciting
Night Of Incredibleness, by the way) when not only the Aislers Set but
also the Lucksmiths will be playing for us.  *Lucy gets up, runs around
the room several times, jumps around a bit and does a couple of snoopies
to try to work off the excitement*

I’d like to welcome Edda, who introduced herself by referring to virginity
in her subject line, then saying “I also do modeling now and then” and “I
don't have a boyfriend” and talking about booty shaking.  I predict that
before long her inbox will be swamped with shy boys asking if, huh huh,
she’s on Friendster.  I like this girl’s style :)

I heard Stay Loose at the weekend.  Blimey!  It’s fantastic.  Kind of what
I wished they’d done a couple of albums ago.  Kind of what I’d hoped for
after I heard Shoot the Sexual Athlete.  It’s got so much *sound*.  It’s
so full – it makes the other records sound a bit weedy in comparison. 
Well, perhaps weedy's the wrong word.  Maybe they’re just a bit more
delicate.  Let’s have a crap analogy – it’s like Seurat got pissed off
with pointillism, got out his big brushes and came out with something
Rothko would have been proud of.  Does that make sense?  Sort of?  I
predict that sections of this list will positively hate it (not much of a
prediction after – who was it? – did that Chu-style pastiche).

Finally, thanks to Laurel for the book review.  I will henceforth refer to
Nalda Said as The Crappy Diamond.

Bye bye

Juicy Lucy


=====
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