Cos you’re FILTHY… oooh and you’re gorgeous.
Trafalgar Square camped it up on Saturday night with more glitz, glamour and glitter than your average gay pride Mardi Gras.
Such a flamboyant display of red hair, ample cleavage and men in tight tights could only mean one thing – the Scissor Sisters were in town and by a twist of fate (and a barrage of text message entries), the lad and I managed to get our hands on a ticket. It may have cost us a few bob and a dose of RSI but at least Motorola gave the proceeds to charity. Forget Charlie and the Chocolate Factory – these babies were worth more than the gold dust on Kylie’s hot pants. Oh, did I mention she was there?
Ken may have taken the Routemaster out of London but he sure put the red back in Trafalgar Square over the weekend. The old codger may make the odd display of bad judgement but when the London council said “no” to the massive AIDS charity concert in Trafalgar Square, he stepped in. Maybe there’s a sequin-endowed diva under that old exterior.
I’d spent all day at a drama course and could barely move my legs through fatigue. I’d forgotten how boisterous drama students are… kind of like puppies on crack – only louder. There’s nothing like a bit of alternative glam pop to send your worries (and sore feet) packing.
The Square was completely surrounded by towering fences – keeping the hoards out and the competition winners in. The dress code for the night was red; and boy did London get creative. Red cowboy hats, wigs, glasses, shoes, feather boas and lipstick were the pick of the day. Less is obviously more when it comes to the Scissor Sisters. That is, as far as clothing is concerned. The stage and lighting designers however, obviously went for broke. The National Gallery rose above the stage bathed in soft red light. It’d make the perfect entrance to hell – if only it weren’t so damn beautiful. Trees rose in scarlet salute and fountains flashed specs of ruby light across expectant faces. Motorola girls flitted about reminding us of why we were there and who was footing the bill and high above us a sole DJ set the scene.
Sometimes in life, you know you’re going to be part of something rare, huge, and unforgettable. On Saturday night, I knew I was witness to something I’ll one day tell my grandkids about. I may not have the little ankle biters yet but damn it, when I do – they’re gonna hear about it.
In a brief moment of insanity I braved the crowds at the front of the stage. For some reason, whenever there’s something important to see, the world’s giants seem to gravitate towards me. This concert was no exception. It took exactly one song before I spat the dummy and headed out through the sea of sweaty pits to the wide-open spaces on the outskirts… hello impromptu dance floor.
The rest, as they say was history. As Ana Matronic and Jake Shears let rip with tracks from their new album ‘Ta Dah’, my feet were overcome by the ‘Scissor Sister force’ and my arms – well, I think it’s called dancing. The vibe was priceless and the lunatics who danced in the fountains were an unexpected source of entertainment. Even the security guards let them be. I guess they didn’t want to super-soak their walkie-talkies. I doubt if Woodstock was so chilled. Kids, adults, tea-sippers and pill poppers danced together in London’s epicentre – loving it all the more because they were raising awareness and funds to fight AIDS in Africa.
In an age of terrorism, street violence and public wariness of one another, this was the most blatant display of smiling faces I’ve seen in London for a long time. Bring on the free concerts in Trafalgar Square… just remember to bring your swimming trunks.
