Photos by Greg Fuchs
| born again
Turning Him On I've always wanted to be able to turn a man on with the flip of a switch. Then when I'm tired, switch him off and keep him in the same spot till I'm ready to turn him on again. I recently had the opportunity to do just that: make a male mannequin lamp. That is, a Man Lamp. Before Harold's Menswear on 13th Street went out of business a few months ago, they sold everything down to the bare essentials. I happened to walk by when two bottom halves of male mannequins were loitering outside. I left the store $5 poorer and half a mannequin richer. Not bad. A few ideas came to mind. I could paint him metallic silver and make him into a chandelier or cover him with pink fur, suspend him from the ceiling and string lights through his extremities. I finally decided to decoupage him, add a red velvet lampshade for drama and make him into a stand-up lamp. I got the idea for my Man Lamp from the pesky once-a-year movie A Christmas Story, the one with the kid who gets his tongue stuck on a cold metal pole. The dad in that film wins a smutty female-leg mannequin lamp and displays it proudly in the bay window, sending the mother into shame and embarrassment. I think I have also seen it in some '80s punk rock movie like Sid and Nancy, lighting up some avant-garde junkie warehouse space. Here's how I did it: First, I took a picture-filled music history book to Kinko's and made $15 worth of black and white copies. I went to Home Depot and bought spray varnish, a paste brush, a light fixture and a small can of glossy black latex paint. It all put me out about $13. I bought the lampshade for $2 at a local thrift store. Next, I visited South Fourth Street ? Philly's "Garment District" ? to purchase materials for the shade. Velvet is a fine fabric, and expensive too. In some stores it goes for as much as $17 a yard. I got a yard at Kincus' (755 S. 4th St.) for $12.99, but according to the snippy sales associate I bought the "cheap stuff." The gold go-go fringe was $1.25 a yard at Marmelstein's (760 S. 4th St.). Day One: I perfectly cut and placed pictures of Elvis, Adam Ant, Buddy Holly, David Bowie, Andy Warhol, Jimi Hendrix, Paul Newman, Little Richard, Humphrey Bogart ? some of the finest specimens manhood has to offer. After three hours, my placement was not as calculated, it became more frantic, haphazard. And my hands were covered with glue and fuzz from the carpet. Day Two: I ran out of photocopies and my Man Lamp was still one-third naked. I had to go back and make more. Day Three: I finished pasting. Time to start the shade. Already exhausted, I rang up a few lampshade men to see how much it would cost to have someone else do it. "Well, ma'am. It depends on the shade you choose and the material and the availability of either," said one specialist. "OK, what if I just choose a normal shape and bring my own fabric?" "I can't give you a price, ma'am. It all depends." "Can you give me ballpark estimates?" "No, it all depends." (Warning: "It all depends," actually means: "It will cost so much that I don't want to tell you 'cause I'll scare you off.") I'll just make it myself. I started sewing and pricked my finger. Luckily, the velvet was red. Day Four: I got so wrapped up in velvet and thread last night that my fondness for my new man changed to disgust. I attached the last inch of go-go fringe and plugged him in. The shape of the shade guided the light downward, illuminating every bicep, every pair of bedroom eyes. I can shift the lamp, even as little as a half of an inch, and gaze at a whole new collection of men: Spencer Tracy, James Dean, James Brown, even a regular ol' guy in a lawnchair. Whatever my fancy - he'll light up my life. (Total cost of the Man Lamp - about $45) |