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It wouldn’t be long until the first Monday of May would come ‘round, when the Meeptrepolitan Museum for Elaborate Eleganza and Panache would roll out the red carpet Oscars-style for the arrival of all the gussied-up guests. Outside of NYC, the many who either could only daydream of being there or at least those who wanted to gawk at whoever dressed the most ridiculously would tune-in to the live coverage of the red carpet acting as a hubblescope giving the masses a generous view of the galaxy of stars shining in their upmost brilliance that night. Back in that quaint lil’ town chock full of colorful lil’ weirdos located somewhere insignificant in Pennsylvania, Mr. Boss had been hosting a watch party for the MEEP Gala red carpet walk in his sprawling mansion, as his boys plus super-special-guest stars like Marge, Tyler and even Duncan and Filmore had all been seated in his lavish living room on his expensive-as-hell antique furniture to witness Pim and Peleeken shine like the moon and the sun at their finest hour. Alan sighed, admitting his own benign envy: “Oh, if only I hadn’t given the silly little pink one so much fuh-lack-uh, maybe I would have been invited as a plus-one.” “Lighten up, dude~” said Charlie, “We get to chill at the Boss’ place for the night! He even baked his iconic chocolate chip cookies.” Alan’s long face immediately perked up into a smirk as he began to lay back while fondly recanting that one vacation spent at his superior’s cabin in the woods. “Ah, Mas-tor’s cookies…good times, gooood times…” Glep shushed the two and pointed toward the TV, babbling in his native gibberish that the event was starting. There was the night’s host: RuPaul Charles, in one of her iconic blonde wigs and donning an elaborate drag design of a regal flavor, popping in living color: a rainbow-sequin blouse and a wide-layered iridescent organza skirt, greeting the viewers at home while skimming over the here-and-now of how the event was going so-far and for those who had just joined the live coverage, a reminder of this year’s theme. “Category is: Fashion is a Beautiful Helluva Mess!” Amongst the stars arriving onto the red carpet and on-screen:
First up: Lady Gaga bursted into the scene wearing a re-creation of Björk’s infamous swan dress, with some key-visual differences catering to her own unique touch: for starters the skirt was longer and even poofier, and the swan itself had looked disturbingly-realistic, nigh-taxidermy even, had it not been for the cartoonish exes-in-place-of-eyes and the tongue sticking out as if to mock the audience who’d wince in disturbance of its avant-guard realness.
Mr. Bug, donning a silk-blazer with great emphasis on the shoulder pads and brown dress-pants, paying homage to his legendary and controversial co-star who had peacefully retired to his natural habitat just a few months ago.
The Princess of the Enchanted Forest followed up with a gold-toned gorgeous medieval-inspired mis-match, dressed in a glittering silk skirt that shown off her figure while wearing metal chest armor encrusted with diamonds, rubies, emeralds and sapphires of various colors and a helmet befitting of a royal guard topped with a mohawk made of flamingo feathers, and holding what appeared to be a cross-between a Queen’s staff and a mace, of which had been topped with a spiky crystal star carved from the highest-grade of magical Diamond.
Coming up next was everybody’s favorite old-school platformer star, Gwimbly, showing off his freshly-upscaled-and-remastered design while wearing a tongue-in-cheek satire of the most over-the-top fashion sense of his era: a three-piece in GameCube-purple with a pink, yellow and cyan “Memphis Bell” pattern consisting of a puffy jacket, parachute pants, chunky sneakers and a hip-hop-fashioned baseball cap embroidered with a “cool S”, serving the look with bedazzled gloves a large medallion engraved in the shape of an iced-out can of creamed corn.
Speaking of the most out-there characters of the 1990s, here comes Björk in an elaborate dress inspired by Lady Gaga’s infamous meat dress: a backless bodice resembling a large stake, layers of thin strips of deli-style ham, turkey and salami, a necklace of sausage links around her neck and a pepperoni cluster in the form of a rosette in her hair. She caught-up to Lady Gaga as the two icons casually hi-fives each other.
Amy Pimling and Zoey Franco arrived paired side-by-side, with the former wearing a vivid, hot-pink mini dress made from layers of what appeared to be dyed fur (genuine or fake, who knows?) with a matching feather boa draped over her shoulders, fur-trim ankle boots with the stiletto-style heels and flamingo feathers perched on her hair and peppered with chunky pink beads on her wrists and around her neck. The latter wore her hair swept high-up in a beehive topped with a small bowler hat with flowers, clothed with a pure-white ballgown printed with a Jackson Pollock pattern and long, sheer sleeves seasoned with confetti glitter and golden kitten heels to match her tassled-earrings and the charming 18k gold necklace whose focal-point served in the form of a pendant depicting a chibi cat holding onto a color pallet an artist would use, displaying a row of paw-prints in seven bright colors. Charlie watched Zoey wave to the cameras with a smile on his face, but couldn’t ignore how his joy contrasted with the more somber, pained looks on everyone else. Alan said dryly with as much enthusiasm as someone who worked at Sephora and had to deal with its infamous Periphery Demographic of children: “Anyone else sick of seeing that damned ginger everywhere, raise your hand-uh.” Mr. Boss, Glep, Squim, Tyler Duncan and Filmore all collectively replying: “Aye!” as Marge sighed mournfully, fighting the urge to cry: “I still can’t believe she did that to all of us…and when we where all together to celebrate saving the charity from getting taken over by the mob…I thought we where friends.” Filmore complained: “Not to mention how many times we had to change our email and socials because of her and her hate campaign against our goat Pim! Right, Duncan?” Duncan nodded in agreement, further-hammering it on home his disgust: “…and the nerve of her to buddy-up to Amy and believe all her lies, we all know just how horrible she was to Pim, we’ve seen and heard it ourselves.” The whole room erupted in angry complaints regarding Zoey’s actions and how the fallout still lingered from that point-forward. Charlie stayed quiet, wishing he had declined the invite and had watched it from home. “Oye now fellas, Let’s not get carried away with all this negativity! It’s Fashion’s biggest night out and Pim and Peleeken are gonna show up any minute! We wouldn’t wanna miss that now, do we?!” Squim’s raspy voice immediately cut-through the collective rants. Charlie didn’t think he’d find himself thankful that for Squim opening his mouth but here he is! “Squim’s right, we should stay focused on the big picture here…Y’know, just leave all those bad vibes behind and all and enjoy the show.” Everyone in the room had been astonished at what Charlie of all people just said. “Wow Charlie, you really have come so far.” Mr. Boss mused. “Look, everybody, it’s Pim and his boyfriend!” Filmore eagerly pointed both his arms and fingers at the screen as everyone once-again turned their attention to the live coverage.
Finally, Pim and Peleeken came out, unveiling the flags that obscured their eleganza as they finally revealed their most exciting outfits yet…