If Margaret Cho Could Turn Back Time

One of my most favorite interviews of all time that I've done is this one with Margaret Cho. Cho is a Sag and I am a Gemini, so we got along like Chardonnay and Brie on stone ground crackers at a Chatering Class media party on the Upper West Side. Or something to that effect. On her blog today she rants a bit, as Sagitarrians are wont to do (Averted Gaze followed by a playful laugh), about her love of fashion and how the Taliban took the gift of Dolce and Gabbana from the women of Afghanistan. Now, that may sound nutty, but It really works:

"There was an awe inspiring group photo, with several generations of Hollywood women, all together, looking at the camera and smiling, in one shot. This was a gargantuan feat of scheduling if nothing else. That is what impresses me most about the Music or Hollywood or any other thematic Vanity Fair cover portraits done by Annie Leibowitz. It is a testament to her own starpower as a photographer, or iconographer, that she can have so many living legends agree to one particular time and place. She must plan really far in advance.

"While we were all primping for this grand photographic display of glamour, wealth, power, talent, renown, fame and excess, there was a small gathering of women outside who no one was taking pictures of. They were Muslim women, mostly in Hijabs, the head covering worn as a token of modesty and faith. They carried signs that said, 'You don't understand!,' for what else could they say? The reason why we were unable to understand them wouldn't fit on one sign, or many signs, because that explanation is such a long one. It encompasses so much history, political upheaval, feminism, advancement toward equality or delusional advancement toward equality. We as Western women, completely uneducated in the customs of Islam, the subtleties within their laws, the why and how things happen in Muslim culture, can only look at the Taliban's oppressiveness and misogyny from our own perspective.

"What if they made us quit our jobs and cover up all our Dolce & Gabbana and Prada with those all encompassing burquas? What if you could only go to the Beverly Center accompanied by a male relative and if you let your arm slip out of the voluminous folds of fabric, they could beat the offending body part with a government issued stick? I would knock that stick right out of my brother's hand and chase him all the way to the Beverly CONNECTION!!!

"Anger at this hideousness is right and completely valid, but it also contains a seed of superiority, as if the women of Afghanistan could not possibly help themselves. They need us, the Ashley Judds and Sharon Stones of the world to step up and lend a perfectly manicured hand. As if the perfectly worded press release or astute observation could possibly solve the world problem. It can, but it also matters to understand what you are talking about, to really observe yourself along with the rest.

"The Taliban's view of women, which centers directly on our bodies, is based in fear. The basic philosophy behind all misogyny is the same. The details merely help us identify the longitude and latitude. Women's bodies need to be controlled because they are inherently dangerous. Why, I haven't figured out that far yet, but they apparently just are. To thwart danger, the women of Afghanistan are covered head to toe in fabric. The women of Hollywood are constantly remodeled and modified by dieting and plastic surgery, racked with eating disorders, bombarded with images of what to look like, so many that the images of what not to look like are relegated to artist's renderings and fear based fantasy portrayals. I think the ideal of youth and thinness is much harder to obtain and maintain than a burqua. Don't we need help from the women of Afghanistan too?

"I don't mean to belittle the brave and astonishingly powerful work done on behalf of the women of Afghanistan, especially by Mavis Leno. Things have changed drastically since the fall of the Taliban

"... If I could turn back time like Cher, then I would go back to that benefit and stand with the women outside and tell them, 'I still don't understand, but I am trying to.' Really that is all that we can do, isn't it? Stand together and try to understand each other?"

The Corsair sips gamely at a glass of chilled white wine, listens to the rich tonal color of a Francois Couperin harpsichord CD playing in the background, appreciates the caramelized light of the evening sun filtered through the now browning leaves in New York City, and appreciates the fabulosity of Margaret Cho.