Come at me, bro (like the Northern bullet)
I am so very behind with these Come at Me, Bro responses, but it's been a bit of a rough week (domestic adventures including but not limited to: internet access dying last weekend, me in my PJs conducting an impromptu funeral for a mouse in my garden at midnight, a wicked thunderstorm on Tuesday that had the power cut out and come back on no fewer than eight times and also had torrential rain coming down my chimney and through a vent in my bathroom ceiling, and a near-total lack of restful sleep all week because of the stupid, energy-draining asthma/allergy flare that refused to let me breathe), and so I am still catching up on a lot of things, and not quite as quickly as I would like.
But. I will catch up. I promise. I'm just prioritizing. I have fic to post and stories to beta and e-mails to return, and so on. In the meantime, however, it just so happens that LJ quite handily saved the responses I had written to sc010f and drinkingcocoa's questions before my internet access died, so I'm going to go ahead and post those now. ~smooches both of them and all of you~
(And for those of you who want to know: the family party last weekend was great, as was the other party I attended, the unveiling of Project Peacock to distant family members met with very favorable reception, and I went with the silver glitter nail polish with extra mirrorball reflective bits. It is the glam rock manicure to end all glam rock manicures, and I adore it, and yes, there will be a picture posted soonish.)
Comment with "Come at me, bro," and:
- I'll respond by asking you five questions so I can get to know you better.
- Update your journal with the answers to the questions.
- Include this explanation in the post and offer to ask other people questions.
sc010f and drinkingcocoa asked me some wonderful questions this time around. Have I mentioned that I love this meme? It's so cool to find out more about people you already know and like, and be reminded that there are always new things to discover and new insights to be had. :D
Now, on to the questions!
sc010f asked me the following:
1. What's the best thing about Project Peacock?
There have been so many good things about it, and most of them unanticipated. Unanticipated because, well... I honestly didn't let myself think too hard before I threw myself into this thing, body and soul. I just did it, and I had faith that it would work itself out because I was determined to make it work.
So I have enjoyed many wonderful surprises as a result: freedom from the garbage that was holding me back, accomplishment at making progress toward my goal, pleasure in the process, support and encouragement from people I love and respect, enormous satisfaction and self-fulfillment at being happy and confident in myself, at being authentic to the person I am and the person I want to be. I've reconnected with the joy in so many things. I've reconnected with myself. I'm no longer freaked out by my effect on men and have re-embraced my love for the art of flirting.
But by far the best thing--the most surprising and touching and humbling and amazingly beautiful thing--about this whole process has been seeing the peacock projects that my friends and family have taken up for themselves, and the happiness and confidence and satisfaction they've felt in doing so. Watching the people I love and admire feel empowered to work towards greater contentment in their lives, to pursue the things that make them feel happy and free and worthy and generally as magnificently kick-ass as I've always known they are... there are no words for that. At all. I don't have any that are adequate to that feeling. And it's not my doing; it's something that they've done for themselves. One of my aunts was telling me this weekend that she's been inspired to start doing things that she wants just because she likes them, and she's discovered, at the age of 64, that she loves salsa dancing and music and has been applying herself to learning Spanish properly. She's thrilled about the prospect of traveling. She is happier than I have seen her in... just about ever, honestly, and it made me want to hug her and dance around and cry and never stop grinning.
I am so, so proud of them for doing it, and so terribly lucky to be able to see this. It's awe-inspiring to see that positive energy spreading out, touching other people the way it's touched me. That's the greatest thing about Project Peacock. That's one of the greatest feelings I've ever felt in my life.
2. What is your perfect meal?
Such a difficult question to answer, only because I am horribly fickle--depends on mood, time of year, the weather, who I'm with, where I am. IT'S ALL ABOUT CONTEXT. *g* At any given moment, it might be gnocchi with spinach and white beans, or boeuf bourgignon, or really good latkes, or Best Friend's grandma's Lebanese feast, or or or. I love food and I am embarrassingly easy to please, and I will try anything five or six times, just to be really sure at least once.
But. If I had to select a meal that I just love, that gives me the happies every single time, that fills my heart and tummy in equal measure, that I will eat every once in a while, damn the diet consequences, because it's JUST THAT GOOD... it's a Banana Nut Surprise pancake from The Pantry restaurant, with a side order of crispy bacon, because hey, this is fantasy, and also endless, endless, endless coffee. The Banana Nut Surprise is essentially similar to the baked Apple Pancake that the Original House of Pancakes (<---please note, NOT IHOP) made famous, but with a few twists. It's still a plate-sized baked pancake featuring fruit. But the Banana Nut Surprise is studded with chunks of ripe banana, encrusted with caramelized brown sugar (entirely without cinnamon), and riddled with deep, toasty pieces of pecans. It requires no syrup; it is complete in itself. It's gooey, it's sweet, it's deep, it's a contrast of different textures, it's... amazing. Pancake enlightenment. And that salty bacon is the most perfect counterpoint to all that delicious, delicious sweetness, too.
Yeah. If I had to pick a last meal, I think that might just be it. :D
3. How did Otto and Othello get their names?
~grins~ In rather roundabout ways. For starters, I've always liked the idea of pets with people names, rather than, say, descriptive names, like Midnight or Fluffy. I am far more intrigued by the idea of a dog named Gus, rather than one named Spotty, and I'm not entirely sure why. I suppose it's because there's such a suggestion of personality in these names, of a set of traits and personal expression. Hmm.
Anyway. *g*
Othello's name was Lyle when I adopted him, and I immediately wanted to change it because it didn't suit him at all. Thankfully, he was very young and not overly used to the name. (I like to think that he just didn't respond to it because he knew it wasn't right. *g*) A lot of names were debated with friends and family--including Severus, because he was skinny and black-clad and serious--but then my brother pointed out that Othello was the only black cat in a litter of pointed Siamese cats, and that somehow led me to think of Shakespeare and Othello.
From there, it just sort of magically aligned. The first time I said the name, I knew intuitively that it was the right one. It just suits him, right down to the "one who loved not wisely but too well" aspect--for Othello is nothing if not a fool for love, cuddling up to anybody who will give him hugs or rub his belly or admire his fur.
Otto is just... Otto. Again, it suited him. I wanted something that had a vaguely comedic feel, because there's something inherently comical about chubby, clownish, stupidly fuzzy Otto, particularly when he's falling off counters because his ass is too big and he's misjudged the distance. Or when he's being made to dance. *g* His original name was Lucky, because he was left on the doorstep of my vet's office in a large, open-topped box, right off a very busy street in a commercial business district. Why was he lucky? Because he was the only one who stayed in the box and thus was rescued. The thought of what might have happened to the other kittens in his litter is... not a pleasant one.
But when I take him back to the office for his yearly check-up, they still call him Lucky. He'll always be Lucky to them, for all that he answers to Otto now.
4. Why Vince?
Oh, wow. How could I not be drawn to Vince? He kind of demands attention, and a lot of his characteristics resonate with me, as I'll explain further in Number 1, below. So I am probably predisposed to like him and sympathize with his point of view, even though he certainly has his share of faults. (Unfortunately, I share some of those, too. ~sigh~) Obviously, I love his sense of style and creativity and his knack for reinvention, and I admire his confidence in putting himself out there, even if I suspect that sometimes that outward confidence is sometimes there to cover the inner insecurity. I appreciate that for all his flightiness and supposed shallowness, he's a very devoted friend to Howard, who represents all the uncool things that somebody as image-aware as Vince ought to avoid like the plague, and he never hesitates to rescue Howard when he needs it, which is often. (I also love that the little flashbacks to their childhood show that even when they were little, Vince was a fierce defender of Howard and has been for decades.)
Other things that I love about Vince... well, he has a very appealing sweetness and naivete at the core of him (yes, even in Series Three), a kind of childlike innocence and unselfconscious joy that draws you in and charms you. I love him for approaching almost anything (except perhaps stock-taking) with enthusiasm and a degree of wonder (even being stranded on a desert island) and for finding and appreciating the pleasure of all the little things in life, like ponchos and raspberry bootlaces and crimping with Howard. I admire him for laughing easily and often, for finding the funny in most situations, and for looking on the bright side more often than not.
Ultimately, though, I think that one of the things that most draws me to Vince is that he is, in several ways, a study in contradictions. He says that he's shallow, and yet the love of his life his best mate is Howard, who is the antithesis of cool, and many of his favorite things--the things he indulges with Howard--are also deeply silly and nerdy and childish (see: talking with animals and making them do glam rock cosplay, scrapbooking, satsuma fights in his pants, the jigsaw times, etc.). He claims to be "a simple man" who's "not good with words," and yet he's a gifted storyteller and has a strange genius for learning things quickly and solving problems and riddles in the moment. He's usually looking forward to the future with a smile, but it's impossible to forget the suggestion of darker undercurrents in his stories, especially about his past. He's much stronger and tougher than he looks--definitely a survivor--and yet there's something inherently vulnerable about his character that makes Howard (and most of us) feel protective of him. Trying to reconcile those contrasts, to figure out that interplay between person and persona and see who Vince really is... it's a very intriguing puzzle.
And I adore puzzles. :D
5. Why Howard?
You know, it's funny. I'm not very much like Howard, and in a lot of ways, his orientation to the world is foreign to me: pessimistic, paranoid, uptight, bristling with anxiety and resentment and frustration that he doesn't fully understand, pretentious and self-pitying, fussy and organizing and rule-oriented, always quick to look for slights and eternally braced for the cosmic knock-back that he already assumes is coming. Howard is, in many ways, his own worst enemy. He's cosmically unlucky, true--but he also makes his own bad luck, through arrogance and stubbornness and a dim understanding of the things that genuinely make him happy, as opposed to the things he thinks he should want.
And yet he still speaks to me as a character--quite loudly, in fact--and I feel this enormous affection for him, because those things I listed above aren't the whole of Howard Moon. The fact that he could be so devoted to Vince--could be friends with Vince in the first place--demonstrates that quite well, because Vince is (on the surface) so many of the things Howard disdains, likes to think he's above, dismisses as silly and superficial. And yet he clearly adores Vince, and their friendship brings out so many of his best qualities, the ones he can never seem to express otherwise or get other people to notice: that he's a loyal, protective, and devoted friend, that he can overcome his essential cowardice to be there when he's needed most, that he genuinely wants to do the right thing, that he shows his affection best through taking care of the people and things that he loves, that in contrast to all his blustering fantasies about being a Man of Action, he's really a sensitive soul, that when he gets beyond his own fears and hang-ups, he can be silly, and he wants to be inspired and creative and build beautiful things.
There are lots of other things that I love about Howard, really. I think he's profoundly, lovably human in the way he continues to struggle and hope and wrestle with his faults. I also admire his stability and groundedness, the pride he has in fulfilling his responsibilities and being a caretaker. He actually has a very defined sense of self, and although he is anxious about many things, he's never in doubt of who he is, what he's about, how he presents himself. Vince is never going to convince him to shave that mustache (it's going nowhere!) or wear things without some combination of tweed, elbow patches, Hawaiian prints, or corduroy. Howard knows he isn't cool, and although he kind of sort of really wishes the world would recognize him as such, he's never going to change himself to court their favor. They just have to wise up and realize his awesomeness, because he is defiantly, unapologetically who he is. *g* And that kind of confidence in himself, in his inherent value and identity, is really pretty amazing. I also suspect that it's one of the things Vince secretly most admires about him.
And from drinkingcocoa:
1. What fictional characters, if any, remind you of yourself?
I think I see reflections of various aspects of myself in a lot of different characters. I don't think that any one character is precisely like me, but there's no doubt that I see myself especially in certain fictional souls. I see a lot of myself in Vince Noir, obviously: optimism and playfulness and a generally sunny disposition, a sweet tooth, chattiness, a love of fantasy and storytelling and performing and people, interest in fashion and style and art and the same music that I also love. I share his tendency to want to look forward to the future, rather than dwelling on the past, and his enthusiasm for constantly reinventing his look. Sadly, I also share his scatterbrained flitting from topic to topic, and his vanity about hair. (Thankfully, not to the same degree. *g*) And I am just a bit more academically oriented. Slightly. ;-)
But there are other characters who resonate strongly with me. When I was unhappy, it brought out a snapping, Snapey streak in me, but Luna is closer to who I am, with her fascination with the fantastic, the weird, the unconventional, the silly, and her ever-curious mind always trying to pull from the ether the strange connections that bind everything she encounters in intuitive ways. I also see a lot of myself in Maggie Gyllenhaal's punky, spunky, madly colorful baker from Stranger Than Fiction, especially her dislike of authority (hee) and her delight in being able to give other people pleasure. And when I was young, I was really drawn to Sherlock Holmes because he was the first character I'd encountered who seemed to be so unapologetically intelligent and thought in a way that felt somewhat familiar and relatable to me. Also, he had a sly sense of humor and took obvious delight in playing different roles and trying on different costumes and personae, and I could very much relate to that. :D
I'm sure there are many more fictional fragments of me floating about, but those are the ones that come to mind just now.
2. Tell me about a time from high school when you felt truly, happily seen.
~grins~ I love this question, for it is very thoughtfully phrased.
I wasn't a wallflower in high school. At all. But at the same time, although I made sure that just about everybody saw me, I did not generally feel seen. That is, there was a distance there between me and the others, for all that I was surrounded by people. They saw me, of course, but they didn't necessarily understand everything (or anything) they saw, and they weren't looking below the surface, so... they didn't really see me. In a way, it was like hiding in plain sight. And some of my other memories of being seen at that age are tied up with that icky feeling of realizing that I was being looked at by adult men--adult men whose families were right there--in a sexual way. Which... was definitely not being happily seen, or seen for who I was. That was not at all an empowering gaze.
So. Being seen, and in a happy, empowering way... I think it was 16, when I met the first boy who really liked me liked me, who was attracted to me not purely because of the way I looked but also because of who I was inside, because we both loved acting and writing and literature and British comedy and good rock music. (A large part of our initial flirtation happened over shared impromptu duets of the Stones and the Beatles and the Smiths. I first sparked his interest, I suspect, when he saw my customized backpack with all my rock and roll patches and pins. *g*) He made me feel seen, and at no time more than the day when we were standing outside our respective schools, chatting in the grey November parking lot, and then he abruptly--very nervously--asked me if I would like to go see Phantom of the Opera with him. I think that moment is etched more deeply in my memory than the date itself.
It didn't work out, obviously, because he turned out to be a bit selfish and uncommunicative and too tied up in awkward knots to really be with anybody at that time. (He was, now that I think about it, extremely Howardy. Howard before maturity, maybe. And with red hair.) But I will always be grateful to him for making me feel, for the first time, that somebody saw something beyond the surface. :-)
3. You're at the release party for a book you've written. What is it?
Well. I do have several original fiction bunnies in incubation at the moment, so it's possible that it's a novel. (Because of their very newness, I'm afraid that I can't share further details about the nature of those potential plots.) I like to think that I will do that at some point in my lifetime. I hope I have stories to tell.
But it is somewhat more likely, I think, that the book is either a collection of essays, or something that's grown out of my Project Peacock experiences. (These concepts are not mutually exclusive, necessarily.) I've discovered that I learned so much through this that I would like to share it, assuming anybody else is interested. (That may be a very large assumption.) I've been mulling the idea of a sort of style blog based on Project Peacock for a some time now, though, and I am leaning further in the direction of making that a reality, so the thought that it might eventually grow into a manuscript is not an impossible one.
4. What song makes you want to hit the dance floor?
Anything up-tempo with a good groove! ~grins~ But more specifically: most songs by Bowie, the Rolling Stones and T. Rex, the last of which makes me dance even when I am seated in my car. 60s-70s rock. 80s New Wave and synth-pop. Rage Against the Machine is very good for cathartic headbanging, and I've been known to groove to Led Zeppelin and Black Sabbath when I'm in the mood. And I love Kasabian's last album, especially Fire. Not every track on there is dancey, but that one makes me want to boogie when it hits the tempo change at the chorus. :D
And thanks to this bit from Never Mind the Buzzcocks, I can never, ever hear the Stones' Miss You without doing a Jagger strut. It's an ingrained response, which is slightly awkward now that it's being used for those Grey Goose commercials and comes on television fairly frequently. *g*
5. Among public figures or fictional characters -- anyone your flist would recognize -- whom would you choose for a makeover? How would you make them over?
Oh, wow. What an interesting question! Hmm. You know, this is actually a really difficult choice, because usually when I help somebody with their style, I know them well enough to know what can (or should) be changed and what can't because it's who they are. I think a makeover is really more about psychology and empowerment and getting people to think of themselves in terms of style, more than it is about me saying, "Oh, just wear X, Y, and Z, because those are in right now, and that will magically make it all work." I know that a lot of makeover specialists promote that view, but I don't share it. Sometimes people need guidance, to be sure, but usually the greatest changes are internal, and as people adjust to seeing themselves in that way, they'll discover organic ways to express themselves that will work much better than anything I could foist upon them.
I guess what I'm saying is that many of the people who come to mind either have their own sense of style, or I don't know them quite well enough to say offhand what they would need to work out. I suppose Snape is perhaps too obvious a choice, but he's still the one I would make because I suspect that his style is as much about asceticism and self-neglect as it is about any kind of deliberate style. The trappings and the suits of woe, really--and of depression. To a certain extent, his lack of care suggests that he doesn't believe he's worth the care, which isn't especially surprising after the life he's lived. Of course, as I said, I wouldn't want to make him over in a way that would be contrary to who he is, or to his tastes. He'd never care particularly about fashion. (If he had that in him, surely Lucius would have managed that somehow, over the years.) He's not a Lockhart, and he would feel ridiculous trying to be one. But I would like to teach him how to have some respect for himself, how to use his clothing as something other than armor (to lock others out and lock himself away) and an intimidation tactic. From there, he could make his own choices.
Also... I would have him get a not-dramatically-different-but-more-flattering cut (layers, Snape, LAYERS) and locate the right sort of shampoo. Product, alas, is probably a bridge too far, but that's where we come back to what's intrinsic to him. If he genuinely likes his hair that way and fussing isn't natural to him, then he'll just be ill-at-ease when made to fuss, and the makeover would be about as convincing as your average cringe-worthy 'Snape gets a magic makeover' plot. A really effective makeover--one that's sustainable and won't look like a costume--is about learning to appreciate yourself and express your point of view with confidence and without worrying about what anybody says you should do.
As for those of you who are owed meme questions from me: they're coming, never fear. I'm behind, but I'll catch up. :D
But. I will catch up. I promise. I'm just prioritizing. I have fic to post and stories to beta and e-mails to return, and so on. In the meantime, however, it just so happens that LJ quite handily saved the responses I had written to sc010f and drinkingcocoa's questions before my internet access died, so I'm going to go ahead and post those now. ~smooches both of them and all of you~
(And for those of you who want to know: the family party last weekend was great, as was the other party I attended, the unveiling of Project Peacock to distant family members met with very favorable reception, and I went with the silver glitter nail polish with extra mirrorball reflective bits. It is the glam rock manicure to end all glam rock manicures, and I adore it, and yes, there will be a picture posted soonish.)
Comment with "Come at me, bro," and:
- I'll respond by asking you five questions so I can get to know you better.
- Update your journal with the answers to the questions.
- Include this explanation in the post and offer to ask other people questions.
sc010f and drinkingcocoa asked me some wonderful questions this time around. Have I mentioned that I love this meme? It's so cool to find out more about people you already know and like, and be reminded that there are always new things to discover and new insights to be had. :D
Now, on to the questions!
sc010f asked me the following:
1. What's the best thing about Project Peacock?
There have been so many good things about it, and most of them unanticipated. Unanticipated because, well... I honestly didn't let myself think too hard before I threw myself into this thing, body and soul. I just did it, and I had faith that it would work itself out because I was determined to make it work.
So I have enjoyed many wonderful surprises as a result: freedom from the garbage that was holding me back, accomplishment at making progress toward my goal, pleasure in the process, support and encouragement from people I love and respect, enormous satisfaction and self-fulfillment at being happy and confident in myself, at being authentic to the person I am and the person I want to be. I've reconnected with the joy in so many things. I've reconnected with myself. I'm no longer freaked out by my effect on men and have re-embraced my love for the art of flirting.
But by far the best thing--the most surprising and touching and humbling and amazingly beautiful thing--about this whole process has been seeing the peacock projects that my friends and family have taken up for themselves, and the happiness and confidence and satisfaction they've felt in doing so. Watching the people I love and admire feel empowered to work towards greater contentment in their lives, to pursue the things that make them feel happy and free and worthy and generally as magnificently kick-ass as I've always known they are... there are no words for that. At all. I don't have any that are adequate to that feeling. And it's not my doing; it's something that they've done for themselves. One of my aunts was telling me this weekend that she's been inspired to start doing things that she wants just because she likes them, and she's discovered, at the age of 64, that she loves salsa dancing and music and has been applying herself to learning Spanish properly. She's thrilled about the prospect of traveling. She is happier than I have seen her in... just about ever, honestly, and it made me want to hug her and dance around and cry and never stop grinning.
I am so, so proud of them for doing it, and so terribly lucky to be able to see this. It's awe-inspiring to see that positive energy spreading out, touching other people the way it's touched me. That's the greatest thing about Project Peacock. That's one of the greatest feelings I've ever felt in my life.
2. What is your perfect meal?
Such a difficult question to answer, only because I am horribly fickle--depends on mood, time of year, the weather, who I'm with, where I am. IT'S ALL ABOUT CONTEXT. *g* At any given moment, it might be gnocchi with spinach and white beans, or boeuf bourgignon, or really good latkes, or Best Friend's grandma's Lebanese feast, or or or. I love food and I am embarrassingly easy to please, and I will try anything five or six times, just to be really sure at least once.
But. If I had to select a meal that I just love, that gives me the happies every single time, that fills my heart and tummy in equal measure, that I will eat every once in a while, damn the diet consequences, because it's JUST THAT GOOD... it's a Banana Nut Surprise pancake from The Pantry restaurant, with a side order of crispy bacon, because hey, this is fantasy, and also endless, endless, endless coffee. The Banana Nut Surprise is essentially similar to the baked Apple Pancake that the Original House of Pancakes (<---please note, NOT IHOP) made famous, but with a few twists. It's still a plate-sized baked pancake featuring fruit. But the Banana Nut Surprise is studded with chunks of ripe banana, encrusted with caramelized brown sugar (entirely without cinnamon), and riddled with deep, toasty pieces of pecans. It requires no syrup; it is complete in itself. It's gooey, it's sweet, it's deep, it's a contrast of different textures, it's... amazing. Pancake enlightenment. And that salty bacon is the most perfect counterpoint to all that delicious, delicious sweetness, too.
Yeah. If I had to pick a last meal, I think that might just be it. :D
3. How did Otto and Othello get their names?
~grins~ In rather roundabout ways. For starters, I've always liked the idea of pets with people names, rather than, say, descriptive names, like Midnight or Fluffy. I am far more intrigued by the idea of a dog named Gus, rather than one named Spotty, and I'm not entirely sure why. I suppose it's because there's such a suggestion of personality in these names, of a set of traits and personal expression. Hmm.
Anyway. *g*
Othello's name was Lyle when I adopted him, and I immediately wanted to change it because it didn't suit him at all. Thankfully, he was very young and not overly used to the name. (I like to think that he just didn't respond to it because he knew it wasn't right. *g*) A lot of names were debated with friends and family--including Severus, because he was skinny and black-clad and serious--but then my brother pointed out that Othello was the only black cat in a litter of pointed Siamese cats, and that somehow led me to think of Shakespeare and Othello.
From there, it just sort of magically aligned. The first time I said the name, I knew intuitively that it was the right one. It just suits him, right down to the "one who loved not wisely but too well" aspect--for Othello is nothing if not a fool for love, cuddling up to anybody who will give him hugs or rub his belly or admire his fur.
Otto is just... Otto. Again, it suited him. I wanted something that had a vaguely comedic feel, because there's something inherently comical about chubby, clownish, stupidly fuzzy Otto, particularly when he's falling off counters because his ass is too big and he's misjudged the distance. Or when he's being made to dance. *g* His original name was Lucky, because he was left on the doorstep of my vet's office in a large, open-topped box, right off a very busy street in a commercial business district. Why was he lucky? Because he was the only one who stayed in the box and thus was rescued. The thought of what might have happened to the other kittens in his litter is... not a pleasant one.
But when I take him back to the office for his yearly check-up, they still call him Lucky. He'll always be Lucky to them, for all that he answers to Otto now.
4. Why Vince?
Oh, wow. How could I not be drawn to Vince? He kind of demands attention, and a lot of his characteristics resonate with me, as I'll explain further in Number 1, below. So I am probably predisposed to like him and sympathize with his point of view, even though he certainly has his share of faults. (Unfortunately, I share some of those, too. ~sigh~) Obviously, I love his sense of style and creativity and his knack for reinvention, and I admire his confidence in putting himself out there, even if I suspect that sometimes that outward confidence is sometimes there to cover the inner insecurity. I appreciate that for all his flightiness and supposed shallowness, he's a very devoted friend to Howard, who represents all the uncool things that somebody as image-aware as Vince ought to avoid like the plague, and he never hesitates to rescue Howard when he needs it, which is often. (I also love that the little flashbacks to their childhood show that even when they were little, Vince was a fierce defender of Howard and has been for decades.)
Other things that I love about Vince... well, he has a very appealing sweetness and naivete at the core of him (yes, even in Series Three), a kind of childlike innocence and unselfconscious joy that draws you in and charms you. I love him for approaching almost anything (except perhaps stock-taking) with enthusiasm and a degree of wonder (even being stranded on a desert island) and for finding and appreciating the pleasure of all the little things in life, like ponchos and raspberry bootlaces and crimping with Howard. I admire him for laughing easily and often, for finding the funny in most situations, and for looking on the bright side more often than not.
Ultimately, though, I think that one of the things that most draws me to Vince is that he is, in several ways, a study in contradictions. He says that he's shallow, and yet the love of his life his best mate is Howard, who is the antithesis of cool, and many of his favorite things--the things he indulges with Howard--are also deeply silly and nerdy and childish (see: talking with animals and making them do glam rock cosplay, scrapbooking, satsuma fights in his pants, the jigsaw times, etc.). He claims to be "a simple man" who's "not good with words," and yet he's a gifted storyteller and has a strange genius for learning things quickly and solving problems and riddles in the moment. He's usually looking forward to the future with a smile, but it's impossible to forget the suggestion of darker undercurrents in his stories, especially about his past. He's much stronger and tougher than he looks--definitely a survivor--and yet there's something inherently vulnerable about his character that makes Howard (and most of us) feel protective of him. Trying to reconcile those contrasts, to figure out that interplay between person and persona and see who Vince really is... it's a very intriguing puzzle.
And I adore puzzles. :D
5. Why Howard?
You know, it's funny. I'm not very much like Howard, and in a lot of ways, his orientation to the world is foreign to me: pessimistic, paranoid, uptight, bristling with anxiety and resentment and frustration that he doesn't fully understand, pretentious and self-pitying, fussy and organizing and rule-oriented, always quick to look for slights and eternally braced for the cosmic knock-back that he already assumes is coming. Howard is, in many ways, his own worst enemy. He's cosmically unlucky, true--but he also makes his own bad luck, through arrogance and stubbornness and a dim understanding of the things that genuinely make him happy, as opposed to the things he thinks he should want.
And yet he still speaks to me as a character--quite loudly, in fact--and I feel this enormous affection for him, because those things I listed above aren't the whole of Howard Moon. The fact that he could be so devoted to Vince--could be friends with Vince in the first place--demonstrates that quite well, because Vince is (on the surface) so many of the things Howard disdains, likes to think he's above, dismisses as silly and superficial. And yet he clearly adores Vince, and their friendship brings out so many of his best qualities, the ones he can never seem to express otherwise or get other people to notice: that he's a loyal, protective, and devoted friend, that he can overcome his essential cowardice to be there when he's needed most, that he genuinely wants to do the right thing, that he shows his affection best through taking care of the people and things that he loves, that in contrast to all his blustering fantasies about being a Man of Action, he's really a sensitive soul, that when he gets beyond his own fears and hang-ups, he can be silly, and he wants to be inspired and creative and build beautiful things.
There are lots of other things that I love about Howard, really. I think he's profoundly, lovably human in the way he continues to struggle and hope and wrestle with his faults. I also admire his stability and groundedness, the pride he has in fulfilling his responsibilities and being a caretaker. He actually has a very defined sense of self, and although he is anxious about many things, he's never in doubt of who he is, what he's about, how he presents himself. Vince is never going to convince him to shave that mustache (it's going nowhere!) or wear things without some combination of tweed, elbow patches, Hawaiian prints, or corduroy. Howard knows he isn't cool, and although he kind of sort of really wishes the world would recognize him as such, he's never going to change himself to court their favor. They just have to wise up and realize his awesomeness, because he is defiantly, unapologetically who he is. *g* And that kind of confidence in himself, in his inherent value and identity, is really pretty amazing. I also suspect that it's one of the things Vince secretly most admires about him.
And from drinkingcocoa:
1. What fictional characters, if any, remind you of yourself?
I think I see reflections of various aspects of myself in a lot of different characters. I don't think that any one character is precisely like me, but there's no doubt that I see myself especially in certain fictional souls. I see a lot of myself in Vince Noir, obviously: optimism and playfulness and a generally sunny disposition, a sweet tooth, chattiness, a love of fantasy and storytelling and performing and people, interest in fashion and style and art and the same music that I also love. I share his tendency to want to look forward to the future, rather than dwelling on the past, and his enthusiasm for constantly reinventing his look. Sadly, I also share his scatterbrained flitting from topic to topic, and his vanity about hair. (Thankfully, not to the same degree. *g*) And I am just a bit more academically oriented. Slightly. ;-)
But there are other characters who resonate strongly with me. When I was unhappy, it brought out a snapping, Snapey streak in me, but Luna is closer to who I am, with her fascination with the fantastic, the weird, the unconventional, the silly, and her ever-curious mind always trying to pull from the ether the strange connections that bind everything she encounters in intuitive ways. I also see a lot of myself in Maggie Gyllenhaal's punky, spunky, madly colorful baker from Stranger Than Fiction, especially her dislike of authority (hee) and her delight in being able to give other people pleasure. And when I was young, I was really drawn to Sherlock Holmes because he was the first character I'd encountered who seemed to be so unapologetically intelligent and thought in a way that felt somewhat familiar and relatable to me. Also, he had a sly sense of humor and took obvious delight in playing different roles and trying on different costumes and personae, and I could very much relate to that. :D
I'm sure there are many more fictional fragments of me floating about, but those are the ones that come to mind just now.
2. Tell me about a time from high school when you felt truly, happily seen.
~grins~ I love this question, for it is very thoughtfully phrased.
I wasn't a wallflower in high school. At all. But at the same time, although I made sure that just about everybody saw me, I did not generally feel seen. That is, there was a distance there between me and the others, for all that I was surrounded by people. They saw me, of course, but they didn't necessarily understand everything (or anything) they saw, and they weren't looking below the surface, so... they didn't really see me. In a way, it was like hiding in plain sight. And some of my other memories of being seen at that age are tied up with that icky feeling of realizing that I was being looked at by adult men--adult men whose families were right there--in a sexual way. Which... was definitely not being happily seen, or seen for who I was. That was not at all an empowering gaze.
So. Being seen, and in a happy, empowering way... I think it was 16, when I met the first boy who really liked me liked me, who was attracted to me not purely because of the way I looked but also because of who I was inside, because we both loved acting and writing and literature and British comedy and good rock music. (A large part of our initial flirtation happened over shared impromptu duets of the Stones and the Beatles and the Smiths. I first sparked his interest, I suspect, when he saw my customized backpack with all my rock and roll patches and pins. *g*) He made me feel seen, and at no time more than the day when we were standing outside our respective schools, chatting in the grey November parking lot, and then he abruptly--very nervously--asked me if I would like to go see Phantom of the Opera with him. I think that moment is etched more deeply in my memory than the date itself.
It didn't work out, obviously, because he turned out to be a bit selfish and uncommunicative and too tied up in awkward knots to really be with anybody at that time. (He was, now that I think about it, extremely Howardy. Howard before maturity, maybe. And with red hair.) But I will always be grateful to him for making me feel, for the first time, that somebody saw something beyond the surface. :-)
3. You're at the release party for a book you've written. What is it?
Well. I do have several original fiction bunnies in incubation at the moment, so it's possible that it's a novel. (Because of their very newness, I'm afraid that I can't share further details about the nature of those potential plots.) I like to think that I will do that at some point in my lifetime. I hope I have stories to tell.
But it is somewhat more likely, I think, that the book is either a collection of essays, or something that's grown out of my Project Peacock experiences. (These concepts are not mutually exclusive, necessarily.) I've discovered that I learned so much through this that I would like to share it, assuming anybody else is interested. (That may be a very large assumption.) I've been mulling the idea of a sort of style blog based on Project Peacock for a some time now, though, and I am leaning further in the direction of making that a reality, so the thought that it might eventually grow into a manuscript is not an impossible one.
4. What song makes you want to hit the dance floor?
Anything up-tempo with a good groove! ~grins~ But more specifically: most songs by Bowie, the Rolling Stones and T. Rex, the last of which makes me dance even when I am seated in my car. 60s-70s rock. 80s New Wave and synth-pop. Rage Against the Machine is very good for cathartic headbanging, and I've been known to groove to Led Zeppelin and Black Sabbath when I'm in the mood. And I love Kasabian's last album, especially Fire. Not every track on there is dancey, but that one makes me want to boogie when it hits the tempo change at the chorus. :D
And thanks to this bit from Never Mind the Buzzcocks, I can never, ever hear the Stones' Miss You without doing a Jagger strut. It's an ingrained response, which is slightly awkward now that it's being used for those Grey Goose commercials and comes on television fairly frequently. *g*
5. Among public figures or fictional characters -- anyone your flist would recognize -- whom would you choose for a makeover? How would you make them over?
Oh, wow. What an interesting question! Hmm. You know, this is actually a really difficult choice, because usually when I help somebody with their style, I know them well enough to know what can (or should) be changed and what can't because it's who they are. I think a makeover is really more about psychology and empowerment and getting people to think of themselves in terms of style, more than it is about me saying, "Oh, just wear X, Y, and Z, because those are in right now, and that will magically make it all work." I know that a lot of makeover specialists promote that view, but I don't share it. Sometimes people need guidance, to be sure, but usually the greatest changes are internal, and as people adjust to seeing themselves in that way, they'll discover organic ways to express themselves that will work much better than anything I could foist upon them.
I guess what I'm saying is that many of the people who come to mind either have their own sense of style, or I don't know them quite well enough to say offhand what they would need to work out. I suppose Snape is perhaps too obvious a choice, but he's still the one I would make because I suspect that his style is as much about asceticism and self-neglect as it is about any kind of deliberate style. The trappings and the suits of woe, really--and of depression. To a certain extent, his lack of care suggests that he doesn't believe he's worth the care, which isn't especially surprising after the life he's lived. Of course, as I said, I wouldn't want to make him over in a way that would be contrary to who he is, or to his tastes. He'd never care particularly about fashion. (If he had that in him, surely Lucius would have managed that somehow, over the years.) He's not a Lockhart, and he would feel ridiculous trying to be one. But I would like to teach him how to have some respect for himself, how to use his clothing as something other than armor (to lock others out and lock himself away) and an intimidation tactic. From there, he could make his own choices.
Also... I would have him get a not-dramatically-different-but-more-flattering cut (layers, Snape, LAYERS) and locate the right sort of shampoo. Product, alas, is probably a bridge too far, but that's where we come back to what's intrinsic to him. If he genuinely likes his hair that way and fussing isn't natural to him, then he'll just be ill-at-ease when made to fuss, and the makeover would be about as convincing as your average cringe-worthy 'Snape gets a magic makeover' plot. A really effective makeover--one that's sustainable and won't look like a costume--is about learning to appreciate yourself and express your point of view with confidence and without worrying about what anybody says you should do.
As for those of you who are owed meme questions from me: they're coming, never fear. I'm behind, but I'll catch up. :D