Not your Mother’s Tuesday Lunch Bunch

I promised on Facebook the other day that future posts here on Voyages en Rose would take on a lighter aspect. The last couple of servings have been pretty heavy and I fear that I am liable to crease my poor forehead with thought. Happy therefore, delighted in fact, to have a frothy and tasty day to report on. Long time readers may remember a couple of mid-week, mid-day musical frolics at The Heretic here in Atlanta that I chronicled here and here early Spring of this year.

Well, Tuesday Lunch with Miss Edie and the unstoppable Sue Nami have remained a recurring feature of high society calendars, and I found time to trowel on the maquillage, preen my way into a skirt and totter out on the town yesterday to catch up with all the fun. This event was super special and not to be missed in so far as it was dear Miss Edie’s birthday. Miss Edie is unknown to you? Let me make a short, glowing introduction that cannot even begin to shine light on a fraction of the dazzling facets she shows the world:

Miss Edie King is a mathematician and physicist by academic training, an engineer going by resume and job descriptions, a singer/songwriter, guitar picken' entertainer by vocational calling, and an inveterate tinkerer/inventor by forces of nature that cannot be contained within her youthfully slender figure and equally young outlook. In her spare time she is on staff at The Heretic, and does the odd bit of outreach to sociology departments looking for domain experts on matters of gender.

A really laudable life. I will not tell you how old she turned yesterday. She ridicules time just living as fully as she does. Apart from celebrating her birthday by serenading us yesterday, she was getting ready for an afternoon of final QA runs on a Tesla Device she had crafted from baling wire and willpower over the last 15 months. Reliable, zero-carbon footprint power generation is the big idea. Go ahead, get busy, and top that. With or without the thigh high 4” stiletto boots. I double dog dare ya.

Did I mention she sings with a sweetness that would knock Willie Nelson off the bus?

Sue Nami, resplendent in Red Chiffon, with boobs sometimes in a different zip code than her butt, and a pink bouffant beehive hair-DO threatening the very existence of ceiling fans wherever she gracefully glides her 6’6” of towering Technicolor gorgeousness sat in and backed up the effort on keyboards. My iPhone snaps just do not do Sue justice. You will simply have to see for yourselves.

Very much possessed of a classic Southern church musical upbringing, Sue happily shamed sinners and heaped musical praises on all God’s Children, hallejulah and glory be. She furthermore engendered a general swell of the tip jar/collection basket, baritone booming in a beautiful duet of Amazing Grace performed with a middle aged tenor from the audience whose adoring wife looked on with pride, quiet loving pride.

It was all so moving that I simply had to take the air. I moved outside to bathe in the patio sunlight and to bathe as well in the company of and complements of Mary Kay Beaver, a charming, touring burlesque performer who was taking a lunch break from her gig across the road at The Dollhouse. While I was marveling at her complexion and being introduced to her multi-talented professional entertainer friends, she was tapping me for hosiery tips. I had to agree that the Wolford Leos I had on were a look she could pull off, or at the very least encourage other people to pull off for themselves, in exchange for high denomination gratuities. We agreed that the Stay Ups would suit her aesthetic sense, choreographic potentials and the expectations of her adoring audience better than the Tights I was styling, in my more modest way. Validation, dear friends, when a working dancer comes to you for wardrobe advice. I am still blushing.

Yes, my newish Wolfords (reviewed here) were very well received, and with the cooler weather now upon us, I must say that of my prior concerns about their relative warmth were overstated. They looked great, and I felt great wearing them. I suspect that the Wolford shop up at Phipps Plaza had a little clatter of traffic later in the day that was perhaps more colorful (and bosomy too) than their typical clientele.

The rest of the ensemble, a new leather skirt, a simple silk blouse and the usual tonnage of stylish bling borrowed from the always tasteful Mrs. Bellejambes cache of Weapons of Mass Adormnent. Thanks hon! Your are the very best. Forgive the blurry snaps. I am unable to find the good camera and am using the back-up device, a 1.2 megapixel behemoth that was state of the art early in President Clintons second term of office. Bill and myself have aged better than the camera methinks.

Old friends Ramona and Gabrielle kept an eye on my matching leather jacket and purse while I surfed a few tables, had my palm read by an eerily prescient seer and had a lengthy chat with Irene, proud author of a recently published novel foretelling the end of the American Empire. While I do not share her enthusiastic, heartfelt belief that the gradual erosion of 2nd amendment rights is either happening or likely to contribute to our eventual enslavement, I am always deeply admiring of people who labor at writing. Hats off to you Irene, and no, the ivory cable knit, cowl neck tunic is never, ever wrong, and don’t let them tell you otherwise. Just be sure to lay it flat after a gentle hand washing. If you do forget and throw it into the dryer, let me know. I may be able to slither in to it.

Miss Edie, Sue Nami and friends will be back at The Heretic Nov 16. This event is absolutely unique on the planet. No cover charge, free BBQ, wear what you like. Nobody will glare at you unless they are mad jealous about your outfit. My kind of place, my kind of peeps in short. If you are in Atlanta do what you can to be there too, en Femme, drab, guy, gal, straight, gay, tall, short, black, white and everything in between. If you live elsewhere, but have a friend here in town, tell them to come for you. I’ll be there for shootin’ sure, praises be.

Now, what to wear, what to wear…..