FOTD: Bold yet Gentle Theodora (2/17/13)

Originally, I just wanted to crib from a look Robyn did for a shoot. (It’s seriously gorgeous – y’all should go check out her blog and her fb page.) But then I couldn’t find the Illamasqua lipgloss I wanted, and I decided to use a shadow from the Urban Decay Oz Theodora palette, and then it kind of detoured into this. Not twins, not sisters, maybe cousins? Because the eye is still kind of similar, in idea if not in execution. And I also sorted out the macro setting on my camera – and discovered that the lighting in the living room is inferior to the lighting in the bathroom. And now I know.

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FOTD: Honeyed Plums (10/26/12)

I wore this to a show that I’m not going to give many identifying details on, because…it kind of sucked, to be brutally honest. I’m not a fan of the venue – I guess it’s good for large shows, but for local shows it fucking blows. If it’s not packed out, it sucks. And then the lineup was just cuckoo bananas. The openers were…weird pop-y, surf-y, kind-of-sort-of-aiming-for-but-missing cock rock/hair metal – it was just weird. And not good. And the singer wore shades the entire time. (Look, I don’t CARE if the lights are super bright on stage: unless you’re outside at a festival during the day, I’m going to think you look like a fucking douche.) AND a duochrome shirt which, initially, I was like, “Oh, neat,” but it was actually fucking ugly. It went from like shiny shit-brown to shiny puke-green. NOT GOOD. The middle band (the reason I went to the show, and that’s all I’m saying about that) was amazing, but…thrash metal, which made no sense with the opener, nor with the closers, who….oh sweet mother of Satan. They were BAD, y’all. BAD. Talking about “no one’s playing in time with each other AT ALL because the drummer’s only started playing drums in the past two months, and is utterly no good” bad. Talking about…They covered a song I like. There is a distinct male lead, and a pretty high female lead, in this song. Male lead basically does what I call goblin vocals, in the original band. Covering band: male lead could not effectively do goblin vocals, but gave it his best shot, for HALF OF THE SONG. And not even like the first half, but like the first half OF ONE PHRASING would be shitty-attempt-at-goblin-vocals, and the rest of the phrasing would be slightly offkey clean vocals that make no conceptual/contextual sense. The female singer? Oh, fuck me running. Here’s the thing: her range was obviously pretty close to mine, which is to say, lower Alto/Alto 2/don’t try to hit the Sarah Brightman high notes. The cover song does not feature La Brightman, but it’s got some high parts for the original female lead.

Backstory/disclosure: I was a chorus nerd for eight years. I have certain admittedly possibly-ridiculous pet peeves about singing. The main two are: fucking PROJECT, I hate that breathy, reedy shit like you don’t know how to breathe properly while singing; and know your range, and if shit’s outside it, adjust it so it’s not. Bring it down a step, whatever. I once heard HolyHell attempt to cover “Phantom of the Opera” (the eponymous song, with Christine and the Phantom), with Eric Adams joining for the Phantom parts. It was a hot fucking mess, mainly because it was WAY outside Maria Breon’s range, and….it was fucking brutal. (Most of the metalheads at THAT show didn’t care, because they were too busy ogling Breon’s leather outfit and cleavage, and mistaking that for talent, whatever. Yeah, I went there. Yeah, she’s not that bad when she’s not mangling Phantom covers. Still not a HolyHell fan. Mainly because I have STRONG FEELS ABOUT THAT SONG, and I hold grudges. Want more dish on that show/tour/lineup? This review is pretty accurate to the show we saw: HolyHell, lackluster, no stage presence, banking on Breon’s “hotness”, hilariously bad Phantom cover, complete with rose, even though we saw it at Ziggy’s and not in Baltimore; Rhapsody was AWESOME, and so humble and sweet and surprised at the fan support, also I was *thisclose* to Fabio and Luca, like, TOUCHING DISTANCE, and Greg caught the drummer’s sticks when he threw them into the crowd; and then Manowar was a ridiculous, staged, choreographed, over-the-top mess, so we sat outside and smoked rather than watch that shit. We also – as far as I remember – didn’t pay $35. Or maybe we did. But we went to see Rhapsody, basically, and no one else. I think one friend we went with was excited about Manowar, too, and watched some of their set, but I can’t remember who it was.)

So, back to this weird headlining band, that I swear it must have been their first ever show, and I have no idea how they managed to book it at this venue, but whatever. (Clues that it might be their first show: they barely knew THEIR OWN songs; they booked one of the most fucked-up, nonsensical lineups I’ve ever seen – you’re not drawing a crowd with that shit, and there were only sixteen paying customers, and fifteen members of each band, that’s jacked-up; they posed in a parking lot ACROSS THE STREET – not even in front of the venue, which was way less ugly a background that what they stood in front of – and had all their parents take their pictures. I mean, everyone has to start somewhere. But how this show even happened, I have no idea.) So, the headliners, and their cover. I actually happen to love the song they covered, so I’m giving them HELLA PASSES on fucking up. PLUS – joy of joys! – the female part is outside their female singer’s range – AND SHE ADJUSTS IT DOWN TO STAY WITHIN HER RANGE AND NOT MAKE WEIRD WHALE-DYING SOUNDS WHILE SHE STRUGGLES TO HIT A NOTE SHE JUST CAN’T. OH MY FUCKING GOD, YES. THANK YOU FOR UNDERSTANDING YOUR RANGE!

And then they finish the cover – which was also, obviously, the only song they actually practiced. I guess they assumed they’d be able to play *their own songs* perfectly with less practice than the cover – incorrect. And what was ESPECIALLY galling: in their own songs – let me emphasize that for you: IN THEIR OWN SONGS, THAT THEY THEMSELVES WROTE, *KNOWING* THEIR OWN RANGES – the female singer was never singing within her range, always way above it. It was…fucking abominable. It sounded like whalesongs, only in the worst way, like, dying whalesongs. Like great big reedy honking noises. Guuuuuuuuuuurl: NO. So, I fled to the van and texted Greg and Wendy and talked mad shit about it, as I do. I really would rather have just slept (it was kind of late), but I couldn’t sleep because the wailing whale was so goddamn loud it kept me up. So, clearly: shit-talking.

BUT! At least I looked cute. Very pleased with this Clinique GWP palette.

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