So it seems that you, my beloved readers, really, really want to know that I’m gay, and that discussing my sexuality will make this a better blog — a better food blog, no less. Well, I’ve never made any secret of that fact here, but I’ve always believed in transparency and full disclosure. As such, I offer the following.
The Peacock Tree.
We purchased it from Gump’s, so you already know we’re on a slippery slope here. It’s a 5-foot-tall artificial tree sporting, in lieu of needles, 1"-diameter mylar sequins. Predominantly teal, they have variations in color, leaning bluer or greener and occasionally even flashing yellow-orange.
Yes, I know, it looks like Cher molted all over it. But, because this is such an exceptional food blog, we simply had to gay it up even more. First of all, 5′ is not a particularly fabulous height (trust me, I know whereof I speak), so we had to jack it up a bit. To create the illusion of virgin snow, DPaul swathed the tree’s
milk carton pedestal with no fewer than three white boas, nestling in precious little red brocade boxes to complete the holiday illusion.
OK, almost there. But how could we gay this up just a skosh more? I know! Let’s put it in front of a teal, spangled drapery panel and a chair with matching pillows, and a David Hockney poster of West Hollywood! Yeah, that’ll do it. Now that’s making the yuletide gay.
But lest you think we could contain our fabulousness to just one corner of the house, read on.
Like many homosexuals, we are easily distracted by bright, shiny things. We also have a deeply entrenched sense of kitsch. I think it’s genetic. But hey, it works for us.
Nativity scenes are so recherché. The real meaning of Christmas is reliving your childhood through the lens of pop culture, and for DPaul’s and my generation, that means Rankin-Bass stop-motion animation cartoons.
This Humble Bumble & Friends set of miniatures (gay) graces our West Elm floating shelf (Gay) in the living room. Of course, they wouldn’t look right sitting on a big, chocolate-brown slab, so we had to invest in a box of faux snow from Pottery Barn — in the Castro, of course (GAY!).
About the faux snow: I’m pretty sure it’s just shredded grocery bags, but hey, it gets the job done. If you do choose to buy some of this yourself, get the smaller box — a little goes a long way.
Mustn’t forget the mantle!
Nothing like combining artificial snow with natural birch bark candles and some real pine cones. The coup de grace is a touch of sparkle lent by a garland of shimmering glass beads (GAY! GAY! GAY!).
So there you have it, proof that I am gay and, therefore, that this is a superlative food blog. I can now expect my traffic to rise exponentially and the publishers to come knocking on my door, contracts in hand for a book deal.