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Holoholo%20Girl
Supermodels and Superheroes

April 14, 2005





Who’s the rookie in the tiara?



-Green Lantern referring to Wonder Woman in Justice League: Secret Origins (2001)







In the wee hours of the morn last Friday, I went to the store to get a couple bottles of champagne. It was very necessary, you see, as I was off to do a big time, high-fallutin’, very glamorous fashion photo shoot with models and everything. And I was the set assistant. Very glamorous.



When I arrived with the food tray—a pack of gum, grapes and a carton of Marlboro Lights—the photographer, coordinator and models were knee-deep in haute couture fittings and professional makeup application. So as the very important set assistant, I assisted in opening the first bottle of champagne. And the second.



Then we were off to location after location, toting garment bags and waterproof trunks stuffed with clothing, jewelry, shoes and other accoutrements, creating ghetto-ized makeshift dressing rooms on the side of the road while the lovely young models fought blazing sun, high speed winds, red dirt and leering onlookers to switch in and out of skintight tops, flowy dresses and short skirts while not sweating or getting makeup on anything. Glamorous, indeed.



At the end of the day, Kim, BJ and I headed for drinks at the Kahului Ale House. And we were so over fashion at that point that we all subconsciously decided to don indistinctive black attire. The Easy and DJ Platelunch eventually performed but I believe it was the generous DJ’s offering of a tray of Irish Car Bombs that inevitably sent us a-packin’.



The following Wednesday was Sasha The Kid’s birthday. So again with the champagne TBB, BJ, Sasha and I went up to Makawao, this time hanging with aunty Marlene and the boys at Casanova for a fabulously charmed Italian dinner. Then afterwards, we stayed on for the infamous Ladies’ Night festivities, ordering birthday shots like Lemon Drops and Kamikazes.



After the third round and not even buzzed, the four of us played the If & Who Game, which is basically a series of questions that allows us single girls to purposefully scope out the room and assess the prospects, while giving our married friends a chance to be involved in the conversation. Anyhow, the questions include such gems as:



“If you had to elect a stranger here to be President, who would it be?”



Or, “If you had to switch genders with someone here, who would you switch with?”



And the ever popular, “If someone was pointing a gun to your head and you absolutely had to make-out with somebody in the parking lot right now and nobody would ever know, who would you pick?”



But we forgot one vital drinking rule: Never eat a full meal before a night of excessive boozing if you are hoping for drunken foolery! What amateurs! And so we were shamed into sobriety for the rest of the evening.



A couple days later, non-alcohol involving work took me into Paia in the late afternoon. So naturally, when I was done, I stopped at the SandBar for a cocktail.



You know, I hate to be predictable but I also hate being sober on a perfectly decent pau hana Friday with money burning a hole in my pocket and those damn Paia bartenders luring me in like sirens with their blasted margarita specials and happy hour libations.



And then like a blur, prolific band du jour The Easy played, followed by the John Moore Project, maybe some flirting on my part and definitely some testosterone-fueled mayhem on somebody else’s, Reeny saved me from certain death, Billy lost his shoe, and then I think Ken and I hightailed it down to Jacque’s, which was packed but the doorman let me in because my name was not Anthony Pignataro.



On Saturday after a full day of recovery by means of thrift store shopping therapy, my Wailuku buddies and I prepared to attend a Superheroes & Villains party at Mulligan’s in Wailea. Once I suited up in my Kill Bill 2 evil nurse dress and blonde wig with eye patch, BJ opened the door in an outfit we would later call “Evil Warrior Hooker Prom Queen of the Damned.” And she looked good, too.



But that wasn’t what distracted me, for behind her was a blue-tights-wearing, yellow satin cape flying, black Batman-masked man soaring across my backyard being chased by two poodles.







Samantha Campos knows more about mollusks than Candace Bushnell. MTW