I receive a ping! and it’s Dolly, asking me if I’m still able to make it tonight.

Dolly, an ethereal blonde is someone I met in Liverpool during December 2014. This trip up was particularly significant as it my first visit home after moving to London. This happens to everyone, but the things I saw as banal seemed ultra vivid to me: the clean Northern air was the first thing I noticed after becoming accustomed to London’s smog. Despite being a real city, it felt like coming to the countryside. I noticed how beautiful the buildings are in Liverpool, their Victorian flamboyance never being something I thought about before. The way scouse girls dress and behave was a real rumbler, too; their teeny tiny skirts, towering  high heels and ultra-feminine demeanour is something more often seen on West End prostitites, which caused me to do a double take and remember that where I was visiting, and am from, is where that style is the norm!

These are all quite superficial things compared to what I really noticed: how many friends and people I know back in Liverpool.

I was performing at the Kazimier for the New Year’s Party, my character being Nanuk, ‘the intergalactic goddess of oneness and sensuality; the mother of the universe and all its galaxies and star systems which revolve around her.’

The performance had me descend down the steps majestically, my glowing tendrils swooping from left to right as I danced to the music of Stealing Sheep to a jubilant crowd. I swayed to the beat of music, moving softly and gracefully to begin with, working the lights to bring a little outer space sparkle to the club. I built this up into a fierce crescendo, the music becoming suddenly heavy and staccato. You may notice my silver shoes, an ultra Scouse purchase from St John’s market in Liverpool (2 for a fiver) which threatened to topple me over and break many a bone. But much like Nanuk, I maintained a regal grace, dancing on the stage wearing Versace underwear and discount heelless platforms. 

The show culminated in all the acts of the evening gathering together on the stage to make the countdown to 1st January, 2015. The lights shone from the ceiling and twinkled upon the, sequinned, neoned, bewigged crowd, and a feeling of love and elation filled the room.

Feeling the warmth of humanity, I felt it appropriate to peacock around the club in nothing but briefs and glitter, meeting and greeting everybody I knew and who revelled in the performance. 

Amongst those people was Dolly, who immediately struck me as highly intelligent, perceptive and exactly the sort of person I’d love in my life. We exchanged names, smiles and discovered we had a mutual habitation and understanding of life in Rock Ferry and Birkenhead. I was hyper sensitive during that period of transition, feeling isolated and maddened by my first few months spent in London, which I shared with her. She told me  she was living, to my amazement, in a warehouse in Tottenham. Both of us adoptive North Londoners, we vowed to meet up very soon when back in the M25, and I and her parted ways for the night, having shared numbers and hugs (very much appreciated by me in my semi-naked state.)

Dolly, despite us only having met in fleeting moments, feels like a very dear friend and a Monday evening in January but cemented that.


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