Superstar in a Housedress: The Life and Legend of Jackie Curtis by Craig B. Highberger Read Free Book Online Page B

right next door. She was a very sweet little old Italian widow and we saw her all the time. And Rosie died. She was ninety. No sooner than they had the body out of the apartment, Jackie got out of our window, clinging to the building, shuffling along the ledge next to the fire escape until she got to Rosie’s window, which was open a bit. She got the window open with her foot and got inside. She stole all of Rosie’s clothes, and then she shuffled back along the ledge with them, instead of just opening Rosie’s door. And they were these black crepe dresses – she was an old Italian widow. If you look at pictures taken of Jackie at that time she’s wearing Rosie’s clothes! But then of course, unlike Rosie, she didn’t bother to launder them. So they would become these really rotten garments falling apart on her.
    Michael Arian
    Jackie was always safety-pinned together, and had a way of using fabric or tablecloths or scarves in a way that most human beings would never consider using them. Jackie made the most elegant gown you’ve ever seen out of a big square tablecloth that had fringe on it.
    Jackie either could make the room hate her, or love her. Jackie could entertain in the backroom of Max’s Kansas City like no one in history could – and it wasn’t always by bringing unwanted attention to herself. Likely as not it would be some meth amphetamine sparked run that would cause it – but Jackie could be very entertaining. She could also be very repellant at the same time. You could smell Jackie beneath the glamour.
    Sasha McCaffrey
    When I met Jackie Curtis, Holly Woodlawn, Candy Darling and Taffy Tits they had all just started living in drag 24 hours a day. Candy had crooked teeth and brown hair, Holly looked completely zany. I was looking for an apartment and they had this little furnished rent controlled place. I had a job, so they encouraged me to move in with them. It turned out I was the only one working so I was the one paying all the rent. They would go out all night so I would get the bed. They would wait until morning and then they would sleep when I got up to go to work.
    They appeared to be women, so I really believed that they were women. For the first three months I actually did not know that these were not real girls. I mean, I don’t peek. One day I did ask Holly, “Why does Taffy wear all that heavy pancake makeup”? And Holly said, “Well she’s Sicilian. So like a lot of Sicilian women, she has to shave twice a day and wear lots of pancake makeup.” It made sense to me. I was nineteen. What did I know about Sicilian women?
    Holly would help get Candy ready for her dates. Back in those days, in the sixties you could still buy real nylon stockings with seams in them, they were very stylish but they were also very expensive. I came home one night and Candy was standing on a chair in the kitchen. She was holding her skirt up and Holly was standing behind her with a black eyebrow pencil, slowly drawing a straight line down her naked leg, “Don’t move, Candy.” “You sure they’re going to look like real nylon stockings?” Candy said. “They look so fabulous,” Holly told her. “Just don’t cross your legs, or you’ll look like you’re half black and half white. They won’t know what you are.” “Oh, they don’t know what I am now,” sighed Candy. “I’m Jeanne Eagles.”
    Taylor Mead
    Holly Woodlawn and Jackie Curtis would wander all over Manhattan dressed in the most tasteless drag imaginable. It was obvious that they were male, not female. And they had these awful dresses; it looked like they were wearing carpets carved out like dresses. But I admired them tremendously, I thought what nerve it must take to do that. And I always wanted to go out in drag as a nun or something, but I never had the nerve to do it.
    Jackie on the Power of Drag:
    I transformed myself into Jackie Curtis because I wasn’t getting enough attention. Nobody took me seriously when I went to