MAY 2024 SULLYGRAM:  Did you know that in the Victorian age there was this thing called the “Alexandra Limp”? Seems Alexandra of Denmark (married to the Prince of Wales) developed that infirmity, so the fashionable ladies of London began buying mismatched shoes (cobblers caught on fast) so that they could limp with proper empathy. Took to wearing high collars, too, because Alexandra wore them to cover a scar on her neck. Kinda makes Lady Gaga’s meat frock de rigueur, oh, don’t it?

Glad my ancestors were Irish and never did figure out buttons. I used to work hard at being out-of-fashion, but it got easier. You can’t sample the cultures of centuries the way I like to do and only gronk what’s current. It’s all about displaying, of course – sex and sexuality – palpable or psychological. Look but don’t touch. Feathers and presenting for binary and beyond…way beyond. Odd, how we can laugh at it in animal displays and presenting rituals as they work themselves into a frenzy but can’t see it in ourselves every spring.

Of course, I was the first kid on my block to wear a macho coonskin cap, but passing decades have reduced me to bystander, marveling at the air of moral probity that accompanies every annual farce of the fashion mavens. It’s as if committees meet in Paris and Haight-Ashbury to discuss sartorial charades. And beneath it all is the mouth-watering instinct for outrageous allure. I liken it to a Devil’s Wheel at a fair where all the young women position themselves to struggle for dignity and all the young swains position themselves for the best view as the wheel starts spinning. Nothing satisfies so deliciously as overwhelmed virtue.

It’s always been arbitrary, and it’s always been grist for those who like to cavil and gossip and live vicariously. (We all like to cavil and gossip and live vicariously). So much clucking: long hair and beards on men for religious dignity…long hair and beards on men for irresponsible radicals…merkins and cod pieces and whale tails and cameltoes and moose knuckles…hemlines to the floor, sheenless shoes that don’t reflect upskirt, dark fabrics (because nuns say white makes boys think of bedsheets), piano skirts because cabriole feet look too much like “neked” female ankles, decollete discreetly covered to the Adam’s apple (Eve’s apple?), shapeless mounds of black from head-to-toe that make women look like beach umbrellas (out of respect to Man and God, say men)…then hemlines up again, studs swaggering bow-legged to keep blue jeans from falling below their Fruit-of-the-Looms, minis, rolled waistbands, micro thongs, see-thru bras, free the ta-tas, black lace, red lace, have-your-cake-and-eat-it-too plunging necklines… The pretend struggle for modesty against the dictates of fashion ever shall rule, and yesterday’s gentleman and lady may be tomorrow’s lech and strumpet.

Anyway, I think Mom Nature is a little bored this year – or maybe paralyzed with fashion shock. She “barely” undressed the trees here last winter (I raked leaves in January), and just now she’s taking her time with the spring style show. Even the birds are slow with their choral arrangements, and the squirrels must have taken vows of celibacy. All that noted, may the season of rebirth touch your senses with color, song, silk, the taste of honey and the fragrance of roses. And may every last nuance fill the décor of your soul with love and laughter.

Regretfully, I must now update what I posted three weeks ago, that I have suspended sending out most of my Sullygram mailing list. The frustrations of trying to reach free subscribers for 7-10 days each month against mindless algorithms that arbitrarily brand every mass mailing as spam are taking too much of my life. Here’s a condensed version of how I put it previously:

I profoundly hate to end Sullygrams. They have reached thousands of readers, friends and fans each month for nearly a quarter-century. Your feedback has informed me, enriched me, rewarded me. And you’ve often warmed me with your praise and testaments that I’ve done some good, whether it was laughs, healing, fresh perspectives, analysis, or – on a couple of occasions – even informed me that a Sullygram saved you from attempting suicide. If you’ve received motivation, inspiration or simply entertainment from me, mission accomplished.

The problem for me is email programs blocking mass mailing. I understand the need for fighting spam, but someone at each subscriber’s address requested being added to my mailing list. It may have been decades ago, they may have passed away, or divorced and left a shared address, but I’ve never added someone without a request. I also include a way to unsubscribe each month with the emailed link. And – importantly – Sullygrams promote nothing commercial. In recent months, I’ve even made the link go to a Facebook post rather than the archive on my author’s site, in order to avoid the appearance of promoting my books. 

I will continue to post Sullygrams on FB around the 8^th of each month for those who can reach it, as well as archive Sullygrams on my author’s website at thomassullivanauthor.com, but it seems unlikely that I’ll be able to reach great numbers of free subscribers by email henceforth, unless a viable solution becomes clear. A near quarter-century…we’ve had a good run. Repeating: you can always read old and new Sullygrams at my author’s website, even if Facebook disappears. Much love and apologies to all my loyal readers…

Photos below of the changing of the guard from winter to spring.

Thomas "Sully" Sullivan