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HUMOR


With Divine (As channeled through Gay San Diego’s resident me- dium, Cuauhtémoc Kish)


Dear Divine, I’ve been married to a wonder- ful man for more than 35 years. We are both in our late 50s and have had a good, long, happy run with our marriage. I have little doubt that Dan and I will stay to- gether until our dying breath. How- ever, Dan has one problem that I wish he would shed: He wears his clothing tighter than a cork in a bottle of Cristal. The trouble is, the only thing popping are the buttons on his shirts.


Dan is not overweight per se; he’s just having a midlife weight identity crisis. He seems to think he’s still as taut as he was in his 20s (Oh, if only that were the case!), but he’s not. How can I con- vince him to expand his wardrobe, so he doesn’t look like an over- stuffed Italian sausage?


—Wanting More Material For My Man


Dear Wanting More, First, let me applaud you and Dan on wanting to remain together until one of you takes his final breath. That’s so sweet, although it looks as if Dan may win that race cutting off his oxygen supply in tight-fitting trousers.


Over the years I struggled with my own share of recalci- trant buttons, so I can relate. As a matter of fact, the only time I remember being underweight was when my mother pushed me out at the Women’s Hospital in Baltimore. Why, I screamed into this world at a mere 5 pounds, 14 ounces … so many years ago (1945). By my teenage years I was being bullied for hefting around some leftover baby fat. My undereducated student peers didn’t know I was food frus- trated, while at the same time, trying very hard to make up my mind about my sexual orienta- tion. Still, even amidst all that taunting, I managed to slim down to a petite 145 pounds. Needless to say, I felt ever-so-de- licious when all the buttons on my shirts slid into their proper horizontal perspective. After escaping the horrors


of high school, I enrolled at the Marinello School of Beauty, where I learned how to give makeovers to Maryland’s myriad of Plain Janes. I also learned about the beauty and utility of Spandex (no buttons!). As an actor, singer, and drag queen of the century, I found it quite difficult to eat properly. Even as an only child, my mother was always begging me to clean my plate— and I obliged happily. While working with John


Waters on a film called “Mondo Trasho,” in which my character runs over a svelte hitchhiker, I sported a captivating blouse that was simply tied in the front, with no buttons. In another Waters film, “Multiple Maniacs,” I simply wore a fur coat. It proved, however, too alluring, and I was raped by a giant lobster (the best on-screen sex I’ve ever had!). You have to be careful with your wardrobe choices—that’s all I’m saying.


And I was blessed with a


wonderful wardrobe in “Pink Flamingos”—all that stretchy women’s attire--while playing the filthiest human alive. No matter how my body bounced, my attire accommodated, and I looked H-O-T.


Even as a disco singer, I


chose attire that accentu- ated my best assets. While belting out the classic, “Born To Be Cheap,” I donned a bright pink mini-skirt that hugged my bulky body like a perfectly wrapped gift— just daring someone to open me! Are you getting the picture here, dear? And in “Polyester,” filmed in Odorama (a scratch ‘n’ sniff gimmick), the costume design- ers draped me in flowing robes and tops that afforded me ample breathing space.


Though you may find it hard to believe, for me, the best part of drag was getting out of it. I breathed far better au natural, shedding my wig, bra and bejew- eled body-stocking to bed gay porn legend, Leo Ford. Our rela- tionship lasted until my addic- tion to high fructose Coca-Cola got, quite literally, in the way. So, if I could offer any advice, it’s for Dan, your best man, to avoid clothes with but- tons. There are so many fabulous T-shirts and


cashmere sweater sets out there—especially for a man in his 60s. However, if your man is still working and required to wear button-down shirts, he’s going to have to start shopping at Hefty Hideaway or another outlet that offers plus- sizes. There’s noth- ing worse than a board meeting punctuated by the sound of popping buttons, to say nothing of all that messy, lacer- ated cornea


litigation. Honey, I


know how hard it is for Dan to accept the fact that he may be a half-size


larger than his former, younger self, but he needs to embrace it. He’s earned the


right to breathe comfortably. As encouragement, gift your guy a few roomy, “to-die-for” shirts that he won’t be able


to resist. Don’t give him the receipts and don’t mention the store name. Trust me, he’ll soon be wearing those new shirts and thinking about the man that took his breath away—not the shirts that impaired his breathing.•


Breathing easier in The Beyond, Divine


Jan. 28-Feb. 10, 2011 FROM PAGE 11 PARENT


court’s decision sent a mes- sage to the world that we are not true parents. It also says that when things get tough, we are willing to get up and walk away, taking advantage of the very argument we fought so hard overcome in the first place—that we shouldn’t be raising children. We should never let our- selves be so vulnerable. No matter how much we love our partners and trust that they would never “do something like that,” we need to be re- sponsible adults and remem- ber that it is for our children that we become parents. It is for our children that we fight for their right to be loved and cared for—no matter how nasty our breakups are.•


—Terese Farmen lives with her mind-blowingly smart, spunky, sparkly 6-year-old and her witty and wise life partner of many years. She also works as an IT project manager and is a Lindy Hop dancer on the side.


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