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Paying Our Dues

EDITOR'S NOTE: This article was penned by Heather, my co-conspirator in bringing back glam. Enjoy! In the spirit of the last four articles, our song obsession of the week is Lit Up/Let Down by none other than Vains of Jenna.

As Allyson has been sharing with you, we set out on a cold, rainy Saturday night in search of glam. Instead, we found gloom. While Allyson has been telling you about the god-awful "music," I'm going to concentrate for a moment on the audience and the venue.

When we first entered "Sudsy Malone's," a ripple of terror went through me. Surely this is not the right place. There was no sign of glam here. I mean NO sign. I found myself standing inside what can only be described as an empty storefront with a stage set-up and a small bar to one side. Upon further review, I was standing on a concrete floor, and there were wires dangling above my head. In the back of the "club" there were several washers and dryers. None of them appeared to be working, but they did provide seating and a place for a trio of total strangers to hook up.

This brings me to the crowd. Now make no mistake, Allyson and I were decked out in our "glam gear" thinking that we would fit in. We could not have been more wrong. Thank goodness Allyson has black hair, but I am a redhead and stuck out in the sea of darkness like a sore thumb. My hair and her hot pink shirt were the only signs of color anywhere in a crowd of at least 300. We're talking black hair, black make-up black platform boots and black corsets…and that was the guys! The women were worse with their micro-mini skirts, fishnet stockings, striped socks and black leather bustiers. This crowd was obviously not in search of glam, but perhaps in search of a ritual sacrifice of some kind. I saw women wearing the above described outfit who had no business doing so. One pour soul had about 4 inches of fat oozing out above her micro-mini and below her corset. Another was wearing a floor length black leather skirt and looked like two pigs wrestling under a blanket. Now, before you judge me, I am not an idiot stick figure with no soul. I too am a plus size girl but just because they make something in your size doesn't mean you have to wear it.

We saw tattoos and piercings on every available square inch of skin, including faces and hands. I shudder to think what was hidden under some of those clothes. One nut-job had actually branded himself. Now, I believe in freedom of expression, and if these people choose to look like side show freaks, that's their business. I just don't understand what exactly they are trying to express. Perhaps "this music makes me want to cause myself great pain?" That I would understand, because at several points during the evening, I would have gladly stuck burning needles in my eyeballs to distract myself from the hellacious noise coming from the stage.

Despite all of this, it was worth it when Vains of Jenna took the stage.

You see bands, as they are starting out, must play dive clubs and sacrifice a lot in order to make it big. So it only stands to reason that we true fans must sacrifice as well. We must trudge out to these sleazy bars, and fight our way through crowds that seem to have come from the 7th circle of hell in order to hear the sweet sounds of glam rock. We must show these emerging young bands that we do support them. We must encourage them to soldier on in the fight to bring back glam. In short, we must pay our dues.

And friends let me assure you, that is exactly what Allyson and I did Saturday night.

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