Notes:
House Of Priscilla
Pablo Morgade Make-Up Artist
Paloma Salon
The Costume Shop
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I think I might be a transvestite... That's quite a big statement and not necessarily the truth. But I imagine that this must be a very refreshing thing to utter when you realise that you really are quite happy and comfortable in women's clothing.
I don't find women's clothing comfortable or enjoyable to wear other than for the vanity and humour of having people enjoy the effort that I go to. In fact, it's taught me to appreciate and also find ridiculous and impractical, the pursuits undertaken and the lengths gone to by women in order to make themselves look appealing (personally I've always found women in flat shoes, real lips and ... the last thing I cant say ... to be the most desirable). It's been now a decade since I first did Dame Edna for a friend's 30th birthday party out on a polo stud, where, three sheets to the wind, I found myself riding a motor cycle over a pit of fire whilst yelling out to the crowd "hello possums!" . And that began my relationship with Barry Humphries' alter ego.
When I opened my nightclub I did the same. I dressed as Edna and DJ'd all night long as Edna. I still have a photograph of me standing behind the gilded painting frame that formed the opening to my DJ booth where inside I am turning the wheels of steel and sliding a slice of Caffe Roma pizza down my throat.
I've probably done Edna four times before, yesterday being my fifth. But the difference was that yesterday I did an all out assault. I decided that rather than rent an Edna, given that the birthday, same chap that asked me as Edna to his 30th (now 40), was themed 'A White Party', I was ready to buy myself an Edna. So off I went to the House Of Priscilla chasing an outfit in white. I took one look at the white sequins dress and I knew we were made for one another. I then had the Thai manager running all over the store. I needed white shoes, white hot pants and a bodice to cover my upper body.
The following day I must have spent two hours shaving every hair I could reach with my razor. Then I went on the hunt for a wig. The one I found wasn't good enough, so my friend Paloma went about procuring me another from a wig shop on Oxford Street. Then she had it styled for me too. I owe her a great deal for that. She then organised me to have Pablo Morgade come and do my make-up. I still needed Edna glasses so I went out to The Costume Shop in Alexandria where I found them at a song - only six bucks a pair!
When it came time to Edna myself I was well prepared. The only thing I didn't go for was jewellery but I preferred the silk I chose, it went better with my dress and ensemble.
More than being Edna on the day, it was the process of becoming Edna that I loved. It was an adventure. And though I still find women's clothing uncomfortable, especially those high heels (girls I really cannot imagine what possesses you), I am in love with the concept of becoming a woman. And it is for that reason that I will not let go of Edna just yet, and, more importantly, I now own her top to bottom.
In the costume store House Of Priscilla, which specialises in transvestite clothes and sizes, the Thai manager said to me 'do you want to rent or buy?' and I responded, 'I think I will buy, though I'll probably only wear it once' and he then quipped in a camp voice 'I don't think so'. And I don't think so either, even Pablo said when he finished me 'I guess I will be seeing you soon.'.
To women, God bless you for trying to impress us all with your tricks, from hairless legs to high heels and bodices. To Barry Humphries, I salute you. To stay in character all those years and to be so uncomfortable, you are a comic genius and I admire you greatly.
