I just finished Cintra Wilson's book,
A Massive Swelling, and thought the following quotes were a good follow-up to my previous post...
Now children barely out of training pants are wearing asymmetrical Victor Costa ball gowns and belting out how Their Man Is Gone in the smoky tones of world-weary, dope-sick B-girls who've been beaten like donkeys for loving too intensely.
No bog-banshee wailing for untimely death in an Irish family [hey!] could send more freon up the spine than a Backstage Mother howling darkly at her toddler in showgirl makeup, "Pretty FEET! Make PRETTY FEET for the agents, Missy!"
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