I awake in a semi-dark room, unsure of where I am and how much time has passed. The air is thick with the smell of burning opium. As I sit up and try to gain my bearings, I notice that the room is dimly lit by candles surrounding an altar made up of a Bodhisattva comically flanked by two ceramic Chairman Mao statuettes. I look over to my left and there is Lulu, snoring loudly while clutching an opium pipe in one hand and one of her handbags in the other. A few feet away from her is a young-ish Chinese man wearing what appears to be a high fashion version of a Sun Yat-sen jacket and a pair of Evisu jeans, and I realize it’s my dear friend and ex-fling, Comrade Zhou Enlai-Manchu the III…and the events of the previous day come flooding back to me….
Lulu and I had a disappointing meeting with an official from the Chinese Ministry of Fashion, where we were told that they had reversed their decision to sponsor our underwear fashion show at the Jade Buddha Temple. They were very sorry but they just didn’t think it was appropriate to have women dressed in lingerie parading around a Buddhist temple and it must have been a miscommunication, because the Ministry of Religion never would have approved something like that. Never mind that I happen to know that the “monks” at those temples are not real Buddhists at all, but merely paid employees of the Communist Party. So, we were without a venue and also without models because the Ministry of Fashion had formerly agreed to supply them. Distraught, I called the only person I knew with clout in the government—my dear friend and ex-fling, Comrade Zhou Enlai-Manchu the III, who is one of the more progressive members of the Communist Party.
“I will take care of everything,” Comrade Zhou promised me. “We find new location for show and I get you much better lingerie models. We do show outdoors in front of Peal of the Orient Tower in Pudong and I will hire Shanghainese showgirls to model.” From what I can remember, this all came together over dinner at a splendid Hunan restaurant somewhere near the French Concession….and after that, we spent hours on the dancefloor of Park 97, a fashionably louche Shanghai disco. I seem to recall doing the tango with the delectable Chinese pop star, Aaron Kwok.
And then of course I remembered that Comrade Zhou always knew where to get the most divoon opium, so here we are. Suddenly, Lulu starts wiggling and sits up with a start.
“Oh my head….where the hell am I?” She glances up at the quasi-Buddhist altar. “Oh no, not another Vivienne Tam store opening….at the last one she served martinis that I swear were made from gasoline!”
“We’re still in Shanghai, dear,” I say struggling to stand up so I can locate where my Balenciaga trench coat has ended up. “In the care of my dear friend, Comrade Zhou.” At the mention of his name, Zhou begins to stir and also sits up.
“I love this song! Lily, come dance with me!” He begins to stand and then collapses, knocking over one of the Mao statuettes with a loud clatter.
“My dear Comrade Zhou!” I exclaim as I rush over to help him up. “We’re not at the disco anymore…we’re in your delightful boudoir.”
“Ah yes,” he says, regaining his senses. “What a pleasure it is having you as my guest again…..and don’t we have a show to put on? An underwear extravaganza!”
“Oh no,” Lulu moans. “We’re not really going through with that nutty idea, are we?”
“Not only are we going through with it,” I admonish her. “But Comrade Zhou and I have decided that you should play the lead…..but we can discuss all this over dim sum—and then off to the rehearsal studio!”
After breakfast Comrade Zhou takes us to the ballet studio where we will plan our show….an all-underwear revue of “Red Women’s Troop”, one of the Yang Ban Xi, the 8 model works that were performed during the Cultural Revolution. Various female ballet dancers are positioned around the room, stretching and practicing dance moves. A clothing rack with lingerie - various styles of red bras and panties - on hangers stands in front of a row of mirrors.
“Let’s try this wig,” I say, as I pull a black bob hair piece over Lulu’s head. “Comrade Zhou, will you hand me those black eyeglasses…..yes, the Coke bottle ones…there we go…ta da!” Lulu glances at herself in one of the studio’s full-length mirrors and winces.
“What the hell is this look all about?” she whines. “I didn’t know Edith Head was a ballet dancer.”
“No, no, no, Comrade Lulu, don’t be silly,” I tell her as I twirl her around and begin holding up various sets of bras and panties in front of her body. “You’re going to be Jiang Qing—Madame Mao!”
Lulu stands in silent shock for a few minutes. “You are a madwoman, Lily Pad,” she says as her face flushes red. “And they are going to lock you up and throw away the key!”
“Oh don’t you fret, darling,” I say as I wrap a red push-up bra around her bosom over her blouse. “You’ll be a sexy version of her—think Madame Mao meets Bettie Page.”
“This is ludicrous! We cannot stage a Communist propaganda ballet in this day and age here in China—it’s preposterous!”
“The Yang Ban Xi is very trendy now,” Comrade Zhou informs her. “Many Chinese rock musicians are influenced by it.”
“See, Lulu? Listen to Comrade Zhou, he knows,” I say as I lift up Lulu’s leg and struggle to pull a pair of red panties up it. “Now, let’s go over your lines. After you pull out this toy gun and ‘execute’ one of the evil landowners, who will be wearing a pair of black low-rise briefs, you will get down on all fours—but do try to be sexy about it Comrade Lulu—and shout ‘I am Mao’s dog, I bite whoever he tells me to bite!’”
“Are you out of your mind?!” Lulu cries as I pull the panties up her other leg. “This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever…”
“Comrade Lulu,” I say imperiously. “If you want me to get those woolly mammoth handbags of yours into the hands of the right celebrities next month, you will do as I tell you.”
“But that’s blackmail!”
“No, Comrade Lulu. It’s revolution,” I say quietly. “Now…get on your knees.”
Dear Lily,
The best! Wonderful images and videos. I am hoping everything works out with Comrade Zhou as this revolution certainly deserves to be televised! J'Adore Yang Ban Xi!
your devoted reader,
YT
Posted by: ytorlando | April 01, 2006 at 06:37 PM