Vlad’s Vampire Diary: Fashion and Foreboding

Dear Diary,

A sense of foreboding surrounded me. I could feel the darkness and cold grievous glares of unforgiving eyes in the darkness. The anguished cries grew louder and louder. There was no escape. No place to run. I knew I must take action. It was time to feed the cats.

~ Vlad

Dear Diary,

I am now 677 years old. Earlier this week I got out of bed as soon as the sun went down, then I put on my jeans and a tee shirt. That was not what I would have worn 677 years ago. 

After being locked in a crypt for three hundred years, missing the 18th– 20thcenturies, and coming out now I find fashion and clothing these days extraordinary and at times baffling. 

Zippers. I have no words for zippers. I do not know what I would do now without zippers.

Shoes called sneakers. Sneakers. I like the sound of that. Sneakers.

As a Vampire I appreciate clothing that is easily removed. I appreciate women who do not wear thirty-seven layers of clothing during the day and night.

Of course when I was King of Vampires I dressed better than most. I mostly missed the clothing I wore at the time I was kidnapped, locked in a crypt, and left for dead with a stake in my heart. It still hurts when I think about it. 

This is how everyone dressed when I was born.

This is how I dressed at the time I was locked in the crypt. I looked better than this. This picture is not of me.

This is how I would have looked had I been out of the crypt during the 19thCentury. It is close to my likeness.

This is an image of my friend Randolpho and his ridiculous hat in the 1850’s. It was a time I wish I had not missed.

This is how I look now, but this picture is not of me. It is how men look now. I do not have dark hair or whiskers. I might grow whiskers. It is difficult to have whiskers when one is a Vampire. I do like the dark glasses and wear dark glasses always.

This is how couples looked in 2019. Notice that he is not wearing tights. There are creatures called Superheroes who DO wear tights but in this century they look extremely ridiculous.

This is how couples look in 2020.

Fashion is one change I can live with as long as there are zippers.

Technology makes our lives easier. The clothing is also easier. One would think that it would be the opposite effect. 

~ Vlad

Dear Diary,

The days have started to cool. The election; the celebration of death and monsters is almost upon us. No, that is not right. The celebration of death and monsters is Halloween. The election is the day to attempt to rid the land of monsters yet I do not see that happening. It was easier when I was King of Vampires. Then again there have always been an abundance of fools and an abundance of those who wish to have that job.

This year has been the second United States of America presidential election year since my liberation from the crypt in which I was trapped for those long three hundred years. I live within the United States of America and have lived here long enough to become a citizen of this country so I will vote. Gillian my Vampire lover told me that if we go to the local voting center the Sunday before the official Tuesday election day that we can drop off our votes and not wait in long lines.

I feel excited to vote yet no so much as I believe that people are too sad and too angry to make intelligent decisions. Gillian said it is because I did not live among people during times of great revolution and during the World Wars, or live behind a curtain made of iron, or in a land with a dick tator. I do not know what penis shaped tubers have to do with being an evil leader but it seems to somewhat make sense that that is the name in which someone like that was given. As King of Vampires I would never been called evil or unjust. Gillian says I need to read more and brought me a large bag of books which I shall start reading tonight.

I know my head will feel as if it is full of maggots but I shall read of evil but also read of redemption and short lived celebrations. We live in a world in which women no longer wear thirty seven layers of clothing or have children until they die. Yes, there was a time when a man would marry a woman who would then give birth to child after child until she died. Then he would marry another younger woman who would then give birth until she died. There might be three, four or even five wives. That would continue until the man died or his current wife poisoned him. It was no way for a woman to live.

Vampires have always married for love. That is a concept which took centuries to be adopted by the general warm blooded populations. Even now there is much fighting over what women are allowed to do. This makes no sense to me. I say if someone tells a woman what she can do or can not do than his head should go on a pole. Maybe it is not only my cuteness, golden hair, or muscled arms and shoulders that make women attracted to me. Maybe it is my mind.

So out I go now to look for blood. I shall wear my mask and be a modern man. There are times when I just do not know. I just do not know at all. At least I have cats. Cats always know. Cats know everything.

~ Vlad

Kissed by a Vampire

This has been the 64th installment of Vlad’s Vampire Diary. Click HERE to read all of Vlad’s thoughts from the start.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

Vampire Diary: Queer Eye for the Vampire Guy

Dear Diary,

Tonight I stood outside in the cool breeze, under the sky with few stars, only the moon and the planet Venus, and occasional airplanes. How different the world is where there is so much light at night that even when it feels dark we can not see the stars.

It was the year before Louis XIV, The Sun King, died. I did not find out that for another three hundred years. I had heard another group of Vampires had left for the New World. I missed the American Revolution. My own country, my own small bit of the world fell into chaos and ruin…

I stood under the night sky with the wind in my long honey colored hair fell to the small of my back. I wore a coat of the finest wine colored fabric trimmed with ribbons with gold thread. My boots were of the finest leather and the color of my jacket. My shirt was trimmed with lace. It would all have been approved of by the Sun King, or any king, because I, Vlad, was King of the Vampires.

Here I take a deep breath and wonder what the Hell happened. I was standing alone in my thoughts enjoying the night air in a Foreign land, returning from a trip to Italy, when the last thing I remember was the sight of a beautiful woman and a sharp pain in my heart. It had nothing to do with romantic thoughts.

My attackers, who are still unknown to me, sealed me in a crypt, and there I remained for the next three hundred years. My location was unknown to my family, friends, or allies. My citizens were without a leader and lost to the winds and ravages of marauding hordes. Those who were not slaughtered went into hiding. My friend Randolpho was one of them.

For three hundred years I lay in a state of trance like sleep, occasionally mixed with consciousness, unable to move, or cry out for help. I was dead, but undead, in a cruel state of hibernation. My heart had been stabbed with a stake but not fully pierced. My throat had been slit but my head not severed. It is rather disgusting now that I think of it.

Of course one can imagine what it was like when Randolpho and my love Gillian found me. First I heard the lock snap, and the gates of the crypt forced open, then the top of the tomb moved off, and then they opened the coffin.

“Oh shit,” was the first words that I heard, coming from the mouth of Randolpho.

Gillian bent over and kissed me. I opened my eyes. “It’s him,” she said in a now unfamiliar accent. “Let’s get him out of here.”

My fine clothing had all but rotted away. My hair was in tangles with years of bugs and mice having their children in my golden locks. When I awoke I found myself not in a coffin but in the softest of beds with sheets so softer than anything I could have imagined.

Everything smelled good. I smelled good like flowers and fresh spring herbs. I wore a soft robe, and drawstring pants. My hair was clean but now short to my collar. I often think of growing it long again but maybe not.

Gillian came in, not as I remembered her, corseted in a long gown and elaborate ringlets, but in a short skirt and a long jacket. Her hair was straight and down her back. The skirt was black leather, the jacket was a pink color I could not describe, her shirt was simple white lace. She smelled like oranges and roses. Later she told me it was grapefruit scented lotion. Her legs were showing. Almost all of her legs.

In all of my centuries I could have never imagined the modern world in which I had awakened into.

Louis XIV was the King of the Sun, and I was the King of the Moon.

Now I wear jeans. I am no longer King. As for Louis, alas he is still dead.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

Gillian said, “You could wear a burlap bag and you’d still be cute.”

“What is a burlap bag?” I asked.

She rolled her eyes. The door bell rang and she left me standing, once again wondering what she was talking about.

I quickly looked up burlap bag on the Internet. Why would wearing a brown bag made of rough cloth make me cute? What did she mean by cute? Do I look like an onion or potato or coffee bean? Onions are not cute. I do not understand half of what she says to me.

Friends came to binge watch Netflix. I asked them once what Netflix represented. They told me that movies used to be called flicks because of how the film would flicker. They explained more but I was lost. I smiled and thanked them. Gillian and Randolpho tell me not to be overly concerned about the names of companies. I disagree. One never knows what might be lurking in secondary and secret meanings of names. They laugh at that. I scoff. I was not Vampire King for 306 years by not paying attention. The one time I did not pay attention I ended up in the 21st Century.

Randolpho and friends, Innocenzio D’Antonio, Jackie Rafferty and his girlfriend Willow came over. Gillian’s friend Elizabeth was also in the group. I have no kingdom but I have new Vampire friends.

Tonight we watched something called Queer Eye. In my wildest dreams I never imagined such a thing. We watched for five hours.

Five men go from town to town and fix the lives of other men who need fixing. They also help women, but mostly men. How do I say this… they are what is now called “Queer” or “Gay” which in this language means odd or happy, but also means they choose to be with romantic men.

Back when I was King of the Vampires in my old country and old centuries back world we did not care who anyone spent their time or lives with. It did not matter. We were Vampires and I was their King.

As a youth it did matter. There were men who were afraid of those who loved freely. They were violent against those who were not the same as them. That was my uncle and cousins who were unfortunately eaten by wolves or ended up somehow, mysteriously with their heads on posts.

They would torture me when I was young because they said I looked like a pretty girl rather than a boy. They also tried to take advantage of my sister and harm her. They were not the kind of Vampires who would binge watch Netflix. But they are no longer here and I look around my home and have decided that I need to how do I say, step up my game.

Alas clothing for men is so plain now. Everything looks good on me but it would be good to know what would look best on me.

Among the seven Vampires watching we used two entire boxes of what is called Kleenex while watching the shows. We might be Vampires but we are what do they call it, suckers for sentimentality and turning lives around. After all, that is what Vampires do. We turn lives around as well.

Antoni, Karamo, Tan, Bobby, and Jonathan made me laugh and think about style. I believe my hair would look good if it was styled the same as Tan’s. I do not like angels, as most Vampires do not, but in this case I believe Bobby is the human form of one.

When the sun came up and we decided to sleep, I wondered if Bobby would help an old Vampire design his guest chambers?

I almost stayed up to watch the rest of Season 2 without the others.

~ Vlad

 

Dear Diary,

In my bed, with Gillian asleep in my arms, I wondered how out of touch I am with the modern world. Maybe it is not that I am so out of touch as… I do not know. I seem to adapt.

It is a full moon. I wonder if I will hear the Werewolves howl tonight. I wonder if they will have their sinks clogged with fur. I wonder where they keep their clothing when they run as wolves. I wonder why even now Werewolves still dress in such tacky and distasteful clothing. I wonder if I get measured and order some new suits tomorrow how long it will take for me to get them. I wonder if ribbons and lace will ever be popular again for men to wear openly without shame?

Gillian runs her hand across my chest and up my neck. She never asks what I am thinking. She knows. Her cool touch to my face brings me out of my own thoughts.

“Do you think I need a Queer Eye?” I ask.

She smiles with a hint of fang. “No, just a few history books.”

Then she kisses me, and puts her naked leg over mine, and this is where I stop writing.

~ Vlad

 

 

Kissed by a Vampire

Kissed by a Vampire

This has been the 39th installment of Vlad’s Vampire Diary. To start from the beginning (or randomly read them) CLICK HERE.

 

 

 

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Foxy Mendoza the King of Suave

I’ve told you about this guy before but I’m going to tell you again, just because I was thinking about it…

He went by the name Foxy Mendoza but was neither Foxy or had any ethnic background that warranted then sir name Mendoza. The last time I saw him we was going by Mitchell Smyth-Robinson. Just imagine a Vampire in a cheap suit, no, please, don’t do that. Vampires don’t usually wear cheap suits. This time Mitch, excuse me Foxy, was wearing lime green skinny jeans, a tight black tee, a small black pork pie hat and had something that looked like a Yorkshire Terrier growing off of his chin. Gold hoops adorned his ears and he carried a bright red organically grown cotton man-purse. He called it a satchel. It was a man-purse. He still smelled of violet water. You can’t get the Victorian out of this Vampire who is always reinventing himself.

Foxy Mendoza is the epitome of ridiculous but he is also so successful at everything he does. Well, almost everything.

To make matters worse is the fact that I’m stuck with Foxy Mendoza aka Mitchell Smyth-Robinson aka Sonny Valentino aka John Earl… that fact is that I am stuck with this creature of many names is because I am the one who turned him into a Vampire. I cringe each and every time I think of it.

“So where did you get the name Foxy?” I had to ask.

“My flaming red hair of course.”

He is a strawberry blonde at best. I didn’t even ask about the last name Mendoza.

My kids were glad to see their Uncle Mitch. Aside from the strange ungodly hair on his chin they thought his new look was exceptionally cool. They laughed at his new name. Foxy laughed with them. But they still called him Uncle Mitch.

I have to admit that we all have those weird, eccentric, unusual and unique people in our lives. Those qualities are quiet annoying at times but can be quite charming as well. And face it, if you want to be a successful Vampire you have to have at least 3 out of those four qualities.

Yes, I know you’re curious about the circumstances in which I turned Mitch, I mean Foxy, into a Vampire.

It was 1879. We were really young. I was a few months from turning 20. Mitch, known then as John, was 22.  I met him on a boat, at night, in San Francisco Bay. There was no moon, only stars out. Anyway, I’ll write up the entire tale later, but he knew I was a Vampire. We started to talk. At first I wanted to rip out his neck he was so annoying but then he grew on me. He made me laugh. I made him smile. We talked until dawn and then kept talking. No, we were never involved romantically. Oh he could be so annoying that it frustrated me to no end, but there was something about him that was so… I don’t know, because he is SO annoying. But friendship is weird that way. So there you go. On my 20th birthday he was a Vampire and we were still friends.

Friendship is like that. I do need to tell you more about Foxy but then again you might want to tell me “NOOOOOO I can’t take it anymore.” Foxy brings that out in people.

Crap, now I have to figure out how to get him to shave that ridiculous thing off of his chin. What is it with guys and beards? My husband never had a beard and only one of my brothers sports one right now. Val has a neatly trimmed short beard that actually looks good on him. I have to take a break and smile here because Val thinks Mitch/Foxy is the most annoying person in the world and it takes a lot to annoy Val. Just makes me laugh.

And did I mention my friend’s laugh? Maybe it would be better if I didn’t. Think fire trucks and snorts.

Have fun everyone and never make an excuse for your weird and annoying friends. Just think of how boring life would be without them.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

Big Hat

Patterns at Rest

marla_small

This morning I found a stash of old pen and ink drawings. Not 1880’s this time, but 1980’s. From artist Marla Todd.

~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

Take this with your (on a shirt, a phone cover, a pillow, a scarf and more…. go to http://www.redbubble.com/people/marlatoddkings/works/14705619-marla-patterns

Red Carpet

What are you going to wear on the red carpet for the Oscar Awards tonight? I will be wearing jeans and a sweatshirt tonight, however…

In a few years after my screenplay based on my novel is nominated I’ll need a great dress.

My style is classic and simple – like this quick sketch. A simple dress with a fabulous vintage broach and bracelet.

The key to this dress is in finding the perfect fabric. I have an idea where to look.

And speaking of Oscars, if you get the opportunity see the live action Short Film nominees. All are brilliant and unexpected.

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~ Juliette aka Vampire Maman

Note: the cute cat in the gray tux is my own Oscar.