Photography By Jac Chandross

Chef Killardee was a real chef zombified by the mindless consumerism that taught people to purchase tinned pasta products at exhorbitant markups instead of making them at home.

The costume started with a made-to-order chef jacket in cotton twill, accompanied by a genuine 150-fold toque and a two-pocket waist apron. (Blood won't stick to a stain-resistant fabric made from 65% polyester and 35% cotton.) Not made to my measurements, though, so I had to have the jacket, and apron, tailored. And the apron almost didn't make it because the firm sent the wrong one initially and had to rush the replacement.

It pained me to destroy the jacket—see the before picture in the photo series—but it had to be done if Chef Killardee was to be successful.

The pants are DKNY white jeans, suitably distressed and destroyed. I found them at Macy's when I realized I should have some white pants, even though chef's usually wear stain-resistant checks. These were the only pair in white on the closeout rack and they were my size (!) so I, naturally, had to buy them. (It was a sign from Baron Samedi, the patron saint of zombies.) One just can't go wrong for $12 after applying a 15%-off coupon.

Everyone who saw the cleaver thought it was real and reacted accordingly. Except it wasn't just any cleaver. I made the cleaver from scratch using a sheet of 26 gauge sheet steel I cut and filed to shape, unfinished beech wood, and recessed brass flathead screws instead of rivets. It is a full tang blade, with an antiqued handle worn down to the shape of my hand by years of "use." Despite the appearance of a razor-sharp edge, the cleaver is actually perfectly smooth and, thus, technically not a weapon in the eyes of NYPD. (Although they did give me the eye the entire night.) Overall, it took about four solid hours of work to make. I was very careful to keep it literally "under wraps" on my trip downtown and until I was in the parade itself. No sense having my prop end up on some NYPD's trophy wall.

I made the exposed ribs from liquid latex, building up layers and coloring them with iron oxide and other pigments. It's a lot harder to make realistic ribs than you'd think. For starters, they aren't white (more pale yellow and pink) and are covered with a layer of muscle and gristle.

The woman's hand was purchased and modified by adding fake fingernails (picked out by my friend Stacie to be extra trampy; see her photos of me) and a ring and bracelet I picked up at a flea market. I would hold it up to people and say, "Would you like some ladyfingers? I just made them!" The foot was purchased and then customized with a high heel and a meat thermometer, allowing me to ask "Or maybe you have a foot fetish?". I'd point to the thermometer and say, "Proper meat safety is very important."

Everyone wanted to pose with me, and the zombies welcomed me with open arms. Well, ok, the ones that still had arms left...

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Maja created a Halloween concept of taking iconic brands and bringing them to life, but with a unique interpretation by the costumer implementing the icon. (You can see some of the other brands in the "An Exercise in Branding" section.) She gave me the idea for Chef Killardee. (I came up with the name, though.)

Her take on the Jolly Green Giant is very faithful to the modern version and includes a Sprout handing out tainted spinach. The entire costume, including stilts, was homemade. While the colors of the various costume components, including makeup, match in person, the differences are pronounced in photographs. The color shifts stem from how the spectrum of light in the intense camera flash is absorbed or reflected at a molecular level by the different colored dyes in the fabrics, each of which reacts differently. (Ok, ok, so I once ghostwrote a paper on spectroscopy for a chemistry major. It's still all true.)

The original Green Giant was a scowling brute clad in a shearling loincloth better suited to scaring children. It wasn't until 1935 when Leo Burnett opened his own agency and picked up the Minnesota Valley Canning Co. as a client that the modern icon was created. Burnett added "Jolly" and replaced the lambskin (more appropriate for a cyclops snatching up sailors) with spinach leaves. In 1958, the "Ho, ho, ho" was added by a Burnett copywriter and the icon has pretty much been this way every since.

Enough history, go check out the pictures. Ho, ho, ho, Green Giant!

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Mike and I were supposed to meet early at the parade so I could take some shots of him at the Fire Patrol building on West 3rd Street. But a combination of factors—mostly my not finishing my costume until late and not getting my makeup on until after 6pm—caused me to be late to the parade start. In the meantime, Mike had gone off with his friends, and we didn't see each other during the parade. Afterwards, I went off to the East Village (he was still in the West) and each of us figured we'd just missed each other.

I didn't call him when I was heading home, since I thought he'd left hours previously. I was planning on taking an F train from Houston & 1st (I was in the East Village) to West 4th (two stops) and changing to an A and taking that to the faraway land, way up north. Now pay attention, boys and girls, 'cause this is important. The A, however, was running local on the F track (late night) so I didn't need to change. And at West 4th, of all the gin joints in all the world, Mike walks into mine: same exact train, same exact car. What are the odds? He was just heading a few stops north to Penn Station (34th Street) and during the few minutes we had together I took these shots.

So I did get to see his costume and he mine. Sometimes life just works out without trying.

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People dressed up as people.

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Strange and wonderful creatures.

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Dese are things. Things? Ya know, things. Oh, right. Things.

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"I was channeling Bub [from Day of the Dead] when he realizes that Dr. Logan is dead." — Bill, the Working Stiff

Bill helped me with my makeup. He, Father Latexia, and I took a cab downtown. When I got out two of my (deliberately) smashed cameras—I was Zombierazzi, the paparazzi bitten by a celebrity and turned into the living dead—were knocked off. While I was putting one back on I asked Bill to hold the other. In a manner of seconds he'd turned it into a totally hilarious prop amusing everyone the entire night.

Nobody does a zombie like Bill. He's got the look, the stagger, the eye contact, and the mannerisms down pat. When we were walking to the East Village after the parade some urban youth looked at us and muttered, "Crazy white folk" as they passed.

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Zombies are people too! (Well, they were once.) If you cut us do we not bleed? (Actually, we don't. It's a metaphor.) Zombies don't make the dead; we make the dead better!

Undead Pride!
Support the Pro-(Un)Life Agenda!
Zombie Rights Now!

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I went to the parade with Father Latexia and Working Stiff. People were shocked by the good father's drinking holy water and staggering about, and many refused to confess their sins even though he was offering absolution free until midnight. (Then the rates went up.) But the dominatrixes and Lorena Bobbit loved him dearly.

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Strange aliens from faraway places came to share, if not wisdom, a flash of tittie.

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These policemen weren't there to prevent or preserve disorder; they were there to have a rockin' good time.

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"Being: The culmination of years of hard labor and brutal ritual, the final push that will get the runway done, the ancestors pleased, the planes back, and deliver to us the abundant cargo that we so, so deserve; featuring: merchant marines, brazen brass, exceedingly clever flying machines, cardboard communication, synchronized semaphore, lighthouses, Melanesia, control towers, morse code, dazzling displays of ritual dance, arbitrary and capricious blood letting, sacred Jello, red crosses, gigantic, gimpy John Frum, sea chanteys, and your helping hands when they are needed the most.

or: an elaborate ruse for a tramway escape to a desolate island paradise.

Beware of swashbuckling pirates, unsympathetic Red Cross workers, and John Frum. If you follow the signs and complete the ritual, you will be amply rewarded for your faith.

Don your WWII flight suit (or similarly inspired attire), brush up on your semaphore signals...and chart a course for 14 Honey Locusts Park, at 59th St. betw. 1st Ave and 2nd Ave in Manhattan."

— Madagascar Institute Cargo Cult

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"The John Frum movement appeared for the first time in the 1940s in the New Hebrides (as Vanuatu was called at the time). At that time some 300,000 American troops established themselves in Vanuatu. The islanders were impressed both by the egalitarianism of the Americans and their obvious wealth and power. This led them to conflate perceived benefactors such as Uncle Sam, Santa Claus and John the Baptist into a mythic figure called Jon Frum, who would empower the island peoples by giving them cargo wealth. The power of Jon Frum appeared to be confirmed by the post-war influx of tourists to the region, who brought with them a degree of material prosperity to the islands. The cult is still active today. The Jon Frum movement also has its own political party, led by Song Keaspai." — Jon Frum, Wikipedia

"Jon Frum
He mus come
Look at old fellas
Give us some big presents
Give us some good tok-tok"
— The Happy Isles of Oceania, Paddling the Pacific by Paul Theroux

The colors on John Frum's hat are from the official John Frum flag.

The name may be derived from an American proselytizer named John who was "from" America.

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East meets West. East kicks West's ass and cooks it in a stewpot. — JAC

"In attempts to get cargo to fall by parachute or land in planes or ships again, islanders imitated the same practices they had seen the soldiers, sailors and airmen use. They carved headphones from wood, and wore them while sitting in fabricated control towers. They waved the landing signals while standing on the runways. They lit signal fires and torches to light up runways and lighthouses. The cultists thought that the foreigners had some special connection to their own ancestors, who were the only beings powerful enough to produce such riches.

In a form of sympathetic magic, many built life-size mockups of airplanes out of straw, and created new military style landing strips, hoping to attract more airplanes. Ultimately, although these practices did not bring about the return of the god-like airplanes that brought such marvelous cargo during the war, they did however serve to eradicate the religious practices that had existed prior to the war." — Cargo Cult, Wikipedia

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"An elaborate ruse for a tramway escape to a desolate island paradise." — Madagascar Institute Cargo Cult

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In nomine Patris, et Filii et Spiritus Sancti, I hereby bless this pile of runway components. — JAC

"The most sacred symbol of the Jon Frum movement is a red cross. On Jon Frum day prayers and flowers are offered at the cross." — Jon Frum, Wikipedia

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Where does one find a virgin adult in NYC? — JAC

"The human eating of human beings is not confined to exotic peoples. It is part of the human condition. It occurs as a preferred form of protein consumption or as the result of extreme necessity, to absorb the virtues of others, to facilitate conception, for magicoreligious reasons, in warfare, famine, revenge, filial piety, and justice. Unique is the case of cannibalism for cargo reported here in which the eater suffered an overt psychosis before, during, and after the consumption, and whose goal was the acquisition of real and symbolic cargo as exemplified in the Melanesian cargo cult." — Cannibalism for Cargo by B.G. Burton-Bradley

Burton-Bradley, B. G.
1972 Human Sacrifice for Cargo. The Medical Joumal of Australia 2:668-670.
1976 Cannibalism for Cargo. The Journal of Nervous and Mental Disease 163:428-431.

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"Da plane, boss! Da plane!" — Tattoo

"In a form of sympathetic magic, many built life-size mockups of airplanes out of straw, and created new military style landing strips, hoping to attract more airplanes. Ultimately, although these practices did not bring about the return of the god-like airplanes that brought such marvelous cargo during the war, they did however serve to eradicate the religious practices that had existed prior to the war." — Cargo Cult, Wikipedia"

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"The policeman isn’t there to create disorder; the policeman is there to preserve disorder." — Chicago Mayor Richard Daly, 1968

Production: Julie Atlas Muz (See Wigstock 2005's The Queenery).
Starring: Julie Atlas Muz, Kate Valentine (Vavavoom Room), Tigger, Matt and his blond girlfriend, Bunny Love, Lady Ace & Miss Tickle (Bombshell Girls), and, of course Allison (see the thumbnail image).

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The Art Corps created this red extravaganza glorifying "the Art of the DInner Party." From its Website: "Take four artists (Carolyn Castagna, Sara Foldenauer, Steve Rogenstein, Andrea Sepic), season them with fashionable red garb, and then garnish with dinner table using shoulder straps that suspend table at mid-waist. Set table with red table cloth, red dinner plates, red bread plates, red forks, red salad forks, red knifes, red butter knives, red spoons, red stemware, red water glasses, red napkins, an assortment of red knickknacks, red salt and peper shakers, a red centerpiece, and a red cadalabra. Pour ensemble onto Grand and crosby Streets, and then mix among pedestrians, spectators, and other art-parade participants on their way to Wooster Street. Spread the spectacle."

Starring: Carolyn Castagna, Sara Foldenauer, Steve Rogenstein, and Andrea Sepic.

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Whether you like white grapes or red ones, you'll like their clever costumes and photogenic appeal.

Title: "The Spinspiral Hi-Society Experiment"
Starring: "The Conundrums" — Amber Ray (so pretty in pink at Wigstock) and Muffinhead

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Bobble-headed Bubble Bath Baby. Now say it three times, fast.

Starring (in alphabetical order): Abby, Andrew, Keith, Mindy, and Tom.

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The Dazzle Dancers are an "avante gay" dance troup made up of performance artists devoted to promoting sexual freedom and happiness. I think we could all go for some of that. Their Website describes them as "a little bit Mummenschanz, a little bit La Cage Aux Folles and a lot Oh Calcutta!" I shot them at the 2004 Wigstock as well, where they exchanged their usual glitter, oil, and g-strings for white paint. This time they put on an "semi-nude revue" which I somehow managed to miss in all the confusion.

Starring: Houdini Shalom Dazzle, Edible Dazzle, Pretty Boy Dazzle, Sochny Dazzle, Paddy Cab Dazzle, and Smokey Dazzle.

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Drive to live, live to drive. Why shouldn't cars be works of art? All I can say is that I'm glad I'm not the one who has to wash it or pay four bucks a gallon to fill it...

Artist: Kenny Scharf
Title: Suprema Ultima Deluxa
Date: 1984

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I don't know where Carl Linnaeus would have placed many of these animals, but they're worth checking out nonetheless.

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Instant outrage, just add heads. And for $2 you can memorialize your day at the Art Parade with a beautiful Polaroid.

The artist on the bottom told me he'd been thinking a lot about birth and created this in response. What amazed me is how few people were willing to stick their heads in for a photograph.

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All the shots that don't fit anywhere else.

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The legendary Jackie Factory put on this production of aristocrats versus peasants, complete with a guillotine. (If only I had made it to the after party at Crobar, too.) This was my hands-down favorite performance of the day. The costumes. The bling. The willingness to pose. It was all good.

Choreography: Julie Atlas Muz
Costuming: The Empress "Temptation" Domination
Starring: Hattie Hathaway (Marie Antoinette) and DJ Johnny Dynell (Louis XIV), Miss Kelly Webb, Poison Eve, Connie Girl Domination, Jessica Rabbit Domination, Vangeline Domination, CoCo Domination, Delerium Domination, Amber Ray Domination, The Empress "Temptation" Domination, Robert Flowryder, Mashala, Jonny Tingle, Lavinia Co-Op and Basil Twist.

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Dwayne Cooper and his crew put on a show featuring dancing GIs and, ahem, girls in burkas. (Only their eyes show, so who knows if they're really girls. But since this is Wigstock, I have some sneaking suspicions these girls are packing more than just lipstick...) These shots were taken during rehearsal backstage.

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Photographers at Wigstock tend to focus on the view from the front; while wandering around I figured, why not do the view from the rear, too?

Now, one of the shots in this series is of a GG — genetic girl — see if you can figure out which one she is. (Should be easy since I gave it away on three of them...)

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All the other shots which don't have enough of any one particular person or group to merit a separate category.

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