Paddington

I worked in Paddington for a couple of months. I can personally testify to the ridiculously good looking nature of all who reside there. Unfortunatly their sense of self worth is derived by how much they are willing to pay for useless pieces of trendy bullshit.
They were all so gorgeous though!

And it sucks. Its gay. Everywhere theres nothing but fucking terrace houses and gay bars. Its stupid and boring. Be careful you don’t get raped in the ass at the Marti Gras is all I can say.

I saw my first drag queen here in the early 1990s. She was about six feet high and dressed fab, and waiting to cross the street with me in the middle of the day. I remember looking up at her and not being sure if she was… was she…? And she had fabulous clothes – very B-52esque, but I didn’t want to gape. I mean, I’d been to the Castro District twice but never seen anyone in full drag before. This was a couple of years before “Priscilla” and RuPaul put drag back on the map. And she kind of shimmied a little, and gave me a saucy look with half a smile. As if to say, “Yep, I am, and so what?”

And I thought, “Wow.” She had so much confidence and comfort with herself. She was more comfortable with her femininity and sexuality than I was, as a little 18 year old on her first trip overseas.

Long after I’d wrapped my head around the drag concept, I still remember her with some awe – she must have been one of the first people I ever saw who really exuded that kind of confidence and self-acceptance, “So what if I am?” A great lesson to learn.

So, wherever you are, in Paddington or not, THANKS!!

Shopping is key.