This week, I celebrated the birthday of a woman who inspires me and lights me up every day. On Tuesday, August 16th, I immersed myself (even more deeply than I usually do) into Madonna’s songs, music videos, films, and overall philosophy regarding co-existance and self-expression.
I blasted her music in my car on the way to work, (softly) played her songs all day at my desk, then cranked her up again on my way home. After work, I surrounded myself with all of my Madonna paraphernalia, including a ticket stub from a 2008 concert I attended during her Sticky and Sweet Tour.
Then, I Youtube’d her infamous 1994 interview with Letterman, during which she dropped the f-bomb more than 10 times on live television. After reveling in her unapologetic attitude and overall lack of inhibitions, I trekked downstairs and transformed my basement into an old-school discotheque with only two patrons: Lady M and me. My music selection included a collection of her videos throughout the decades and a DVD of her Sticky and Sweet Tour. Hells Yeah.
Due to a time crunch, I only made it to mid-90s Madonna. However, as soon as I’m alone in my house again (God knows I can’t play her music at a deafening volume and dance like a freak while the rest of my family is home), I plan on visiting my self-made discotheque and seeing her music career through.
While unleashing my inner Madonna in which sex appeal oozes from my pores, in which I have absolutely no regrets, and in which I act with unabashed confidence, I photographed my experience. I took pictures of each video I played. Yes, the quality of these pictures suck. Absolutely no regrets. Tuesday’s lineup included:
Crazy For You:
Into the Groove:
Live to Tell:
Papa Don’t Preach:
La Isla Bonita:
Like A Prayer:
My ALL-time favorite song. She questions organized religion, racism, and sexuality. She pretty much changed my life with this one. I even sang it in a karaoke club once and rocked the house.
Justify My Love:
After my dance party of one, I attended a zumba class with a friend to enjoy an hour of physical and emotional liberation in public. I ended my day by watching part of “Swept Away,” a really low-rated (for good reasons) film featuring Lady M and a hunky Italian man. Sure, I cringe at the forced acting and quasi-rape scene, but as a self-proclaimed (I’m proclaiming it now!) Madonna-phile, I must honor this part of her filmography.
While I still have late 90s and 2000s Madonna to enjoy in the privacy of my basement/discotheque, I feel as though I paid sufficient homage to this sexy, expressive renegade, my lady crush, on her birthday.