#notes on camp

[campyourstyle]

LEATHER EXCERPTS FROM QUEER PUBLICATION “MY COMRADE,” PUBLISHED BY LEGENDARY DRAG QUEEN LINDA THOMPSON.

#lgbt #camp art #notes on camp #camp fashion #70s #80s #lgbt history

[rthko]

This will sound like a joke but I’m serious. My first introduction to postmodern queer theory was stumbling on a televised talent show as a pre-teen and watching this woman smash soda cans with her breasts. When the judges asked her a predictable question, if I recall correctly, she answered: “they’re fake but they’re real.” I knew what she meant. She’d had implants, sure, but she wasn’t just wearing a prop she could put on or take off. She wasn’t trying for verisimilitude—her breasts were real simply because they were hers. Ever since I’ve been fascinated by the possibility of something being real and fake at the same time, and the truth that these aren’t static or mutually exclusive categories. I think of all the people who have doubted the authenticity of my faggy mannerisms, accusing me of putting on an act instead of being myself. I feel so much pressure to say that this is just who I naturally am, but this is only half the truth. I do like being feminine, I do like being over the top, I do like being tacky in the most delightful ways, and sometimes I emphasize these parts of me just because I can. We can choose who we want to be and still be real. Anyway as I typed this I looked up the video and found that during that woman’s performance Dynamite by Taio Cruz was playing so good for her.

#notes on camp

[aha-my-villainous-thoughts]

It's the first Monday in May and I couldn't be more excited to be an absolute bitch sitting in my jammies judging people outrageously more wealthy than me who still can't buy good taste or stick to a goddam theme 💅

I really wanted to get my Blackbonnet Met Gala 2019 AU illustrated fic done for today but it's proving a girthy undertaking (mostly me adding more art of Ed in his glittery glory), so until I eventually finish it, here's a little tidbit of the two red carpet Co captains 💜

More wips/works for this campy lil AU: X X X X X X X

I have so many wips on this premises, Notes on Camp was my favourite theme so far, but I also have some ideas floating around for Heavenly Bodies 👼

#the villain's art #blackbonnet #our flag means death #met gala #red carpet co captains #ofmd #edward teach #ofmd fanart #blackbeard #gentlebeard #stede bonnet #ofmd crack #met gala 2019 #met gala au #notes on camp #I had it all planned out but then i spent nearly two full days sleeping off a shoulder injury #may is going to be all met gala and mermaids #can't wait 🧜‍♀️🧜‍♂️🎊🎉🤵👬🏳️‍🌈

[viewerspookyhappenings]

Susan Sontag walked so dan howell could run

#dnp #dan and phil #daniel howell #amazingphil #phil lester #dan howell #susan sontag #notes on camp #camp

[raphlecia]

a guide to indulgence, by nadia lee cohen

#nadia lee cohen #fashion #film #notes on camp

[hes-writer]

Notes on Camp (7)

summary: harry is the head counsellor, y/n is new, the campers are matchmakers, feelings arise and harry regrets his actions

warnings: slight angst, a bit of jealous harry

word count: 2317 words

a/n: greetings from your favourite counsellor!

helpful links: notes on camp (1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) | harry styles masterlist | matt murdock masterlist | patreon masterlist | buy me a coffee?

____

Y/N spent the past two weeks having minimal contact with her campers. Not only had she lost the privilege to undertake fun activities with them like wall-climbing, canoeing, and swimming but she mundanely had the opportunity to tuck them into their uncomfortable beds and mattresses when the day was over.  Usually, Y/N would stay in the cabin until lights out, either reading them a story from the small collection of books Y/N had borrowed from the camp library.

Sometimes little Emy would share her favourite parts of the day with her peers to which they would agree or squeal a high-pitched ‘no’ when Jacky preferred one over the other. Y/N went the extra mile to sneak some extra chocolate chip cookies from the kitchen for them to nibble on only if they promised to properly brush their teeth when it was the groups’ turn to use the common bathrooms.

Y/N really missed those nights when she would make her rounds around the wooden house, kissing the campers’ foreheads as per their request. Some of them would even ask to be tucked in safely because of the scary stories told by the older kids sticking to their tiny heads’ imagination. It warmed Y/N’s heart that the kids trusted her ability to give a little affection and deem them safe from their hyperactive imaginations. But now, she had barely interacted with the kids--only when they were holding their trays as they waited for the cafeteria line to move up and Y/N would be adjacent to them, serving scrambled eggs, fried bacon and a fruit cup on the side.  Her role as a counsellor was temporarily given to two Counsellors-in-Training as recruited by Harry.

Even though Y/N technically wasn’t supposed to be responsible for her campers, her conscience rarely left her alone until she had visited poor, injured Daisy in the infirmary. It was kind of silly the way Y/N felt like she had to sneak into the building to check on the little girl. It wasn’t like she was going to hurt her--she could never--and what was wrong with wanting to check-in with Daisy? She was most likely alone, at least until she healed completely, and Y/N was more than willing to give her company.

So even if it was against the spoken rule that Y/N had to keep her distance--she simply could not. Daisy did not mind her presence either, often sitting up straight when Y/N opened the door with her meal for the day and an extra vanilla pudding to go along with it (Daisy disliked the chocolate flavour). They would braid each others’ hair and watch morning cartoons from the ancient television propper on a ledge. By the fifth visit, Daisy’s knee and calf prognoses were healing accordingly so Y/N was there to help her walk without adding too much weight to her leg.

______

Sometimes Y/N forgot that as much as Harry was just another ordinary person working at a summer camp; he was also the boss. And maybe having feelings for him and Harry reciprocating them made this situation a bit more painful than it should have been because it hurt that somebody who Y/N thought she could trust (and vice versa) would see her side of the situation and comprehend the misunderstandings that occurred.

Come to think of it, Y/N had a lot of free time to reckon about what actually happened with that whole fiasco. Since she was moved to mostly kitchen duties, Y/N had the chance to finally finish that conversation with Agnes who shared her insights on Belle’s sketchy perspective. Being new and all, Y/N had barely been exposed to Belle’s personality aside from the snippets that she had witnessed, mostly when Harry was around. Y/N was sure that she was a pleasant personality to be around with, probably also a great counsellor considering Belle had been working here for years.

Y/N didn’t want to assume that Belle was two-faced; though, it was increasingly difficult to keep that way of thinking, especially when she was alone in her cabin late at night.  While staring at the ceiling Y/N wondered if whatever was stirring between her and Harry was only short-lived. A summer fling. A seasons’ romance that scarcely made the four weeks’ mark before Harry awoke and realized that he could do better. Someone like Belle who matched him in each entity and someone who obviously knew him longer.

____

And maybe that was the reason why Y/N gulped heavily, throat bobbing as she watched the pair laugh with each other at the corner of the room. Y/N was already feeling queasy from the moment she woke up because of the cold temperature. She had decided to pass on using Harry’s cardigan since their conversation. It simply did not feel right for her to use it. As she made the walk from her cabin to the cafeteria hall, Y/N couldn’t help but tug her own flimsy sweater around her body, neck craning to look over her shoulder and see if Harry was jogging up behind her with his messy curls and a bright smile that she did not know could appear in the wee hours of the morning. They had gotten into a habit of matching each others’ stride; it was how they got close in the first place. 

But Y/N could see that Harry was avoiding her--it seemed like it.

From her position serving breakfast over the counter, Y/N had a clear view of Belle and Harry sitting across each other at the designated counsellor’s table. She may have slabbed a portion of eggs a little too hard on a poor campers’ plate when Belle leaned over to grab a piece of maple-flavoured sausage from Harry’s plate before feeling her cheeks heat up and offering a sheepish smile at the doe-eyed boy.

The knots in her stomach coiled even tighter when the breakfast line sprawled through an end and the kitchen staff finally had the chance to eat their own breakfast. Y/N miserably carried her tray to an empty table previously occupied by some campers who were now energetically playing outside, despite the chillier weather.  With a sigh, she took her fork and stabbed the piece of meat, tilting the corner of her lip in indifference when the juices oozed from the punctured hole. Y/N chewed her food slowly, keeping her gaze trained on the food in front of her when she felt a pair of eyes burning at the side of her head.

Y/N paused the movement of her jaw, searching for whoever it was and she was surprised when she met Harry’s stare. It had a sort of intensity that would force anybody to cower. From the distance, Y/N could tell that the cogs in his brain were overworking themselves, paired with the seemingly permanent crease between his brows.  He didn’t even blink when she had caught him, nor had he looked away.

She swallowed the mouthful of food, reaching out for her glass of orange juice-- a decision Y/N had made for a deviation from her usual drink of water, hoping that the extra sugar would give her some energy. Y/N blinked as she tilted her head back, satiating the ache of her throat with a splash of liquid. Through her lashes, she snuck another glance in Harry’s direction, further noticing that he was kneeling in front of Daisy who gave Harry a snuggly hug, short arms wrapped around his neck and his large hand comfortingly rubbing her back as he helped her walk to the nurse set to examine her injury after her first meal of the day.

It warmed her heart. She really missed him.

“Stop thinking that way, Y/N,” She reprimanded herself with another spoonful of eggs.

She almost choked when a deep voice caught her off guard.

“Stop thinking like what?” Jason asked, pulling the seat opposite of hers and plopping himself down on it. Dark sunglasses were perched on his nose, lifting it up to reveal gleaming brown eyes.

Y/N cleared her throat, “Nothing--just talking to myself,”

Jason chuckled at her words, resting his toned forearms on the furniture. He was dressed in his usual attire; a red shirt and shorts. Though, he adorned an extra layer of protection through the form of a grey sweater similar to Y/N’s.

“Well, if you want someone to talk to. . .” He left his sentence hanging, brows drawn high and Y/N’s heart at his insinuation.

She might carry feelings for Harry but she did not know where these would lead. Besides, Jason wasn’t bad to look at, recalling the first time they had met at the lake dock and how she was left flustered. Y/N pondered if she had made the wrong choice when she took Harry’s hand instead of Jason’s.

“Yeah, maybe sometimes,” Y/N blinked back embarrassment when she tried to shove another batch of eggs in her mouth. A little too quickly, might she add that Y/N had completely missed her mouth and smudged ketchup on her cheek.

“Here, I got it,” Jason acted swiftly even before she could react from her humiliating moment. honestly, it was bound to happen.

“Thanks,” Y/N breathed out, lifting her lowered gaze to Jason who was focused on getting the remnants of the red, sticky sauce from her face.

____

Harry crossed his arms over his chest at the sight.  He was not sure if the mess hall had just cleared out because of campers’ finishing their breakfasts or if Y/N really was the only subject of his tunnel vision. That and Jason who was getting a little too close to Y/N and he was not fond of it at all.

Moments prior, Daisy had approached him with a shy smile, reminding him so much of Y/N. The little girl had asked for Harry to not be ‘angry with Y/N anymore’.

~~~~

“What do you mean, Dais?” Harry asked, crouching on one knee to hear Daisy better.

“Y/N said you were mad at her because you thought she left me alone,” She explained, using his shoulder to keep herself balanced. “But she didn’t!”

From his peripherals, Harry could see Y/N take her hair out of the netting required when serving food.

“I mean, she did. . .but only because Belle said she’d watch over me,” Daisy continued. “I woke up and Belle wasn’t there. I was alone! I was so scared and hungry but Y/N visited me and brought me food,”

Harry let his voice falter, watching Y/N take her first bite of the day,  “S-she did?”

“Mhm!” The small camper nodded enthusiastically, “She also gave me extra pudding. Don’t tell her I said that.” Daisy slapped her hands over her mouth, eyes wide and it made Harry chuckled.

“Y/N’s nice, isn’t she?” Harry quipped, training his stare to Y/N.  He didn’t even flinch when they made eye contact.

“Yeah, so please don’t be mad at her anymore. It makes me sad to see her sad,” Daisy gasped exuberantly, smacking her palms over her mouth again, “Don’t tell her I said that either,”

And as he helped Daisy walking to the camp nurse, Harry couldn’t help but think of Daisy’s words. Harry thought that Y/N had gone back to her cabin after their talk. He wasn’t aware that Y/N had taken the initiative to check on Daisy--heck, he did not even check on Daisy after it.

~~~~

“So what do you say?” Jason queried. “Oh, hey Harry,”

Y/N fought the urge to look up at him. Instead, using her fork to roll the few pieces of food around on her plate that she was going to wash after this.

“Hey, man,” Harry greeted, keeping his eyes trained on Y/N who barely acknowledged him.

“I was just asking if Y/N wanted to come to the waterfalls tonight for Counsellors night out,” He gestured towards her, “You coming?”

It was a great way to let off some steam. Being surrounded by kids for the majority of the day was quite taxing and tense. This little trek to the waterfalls nearby was an amazing way to unwind.

“Don’t think so. It’ll be dark and will probably be cold,” Harry answered for Y/N, silently pleading her to at least give him a sign that they were okay.

Y/N snapped her head at that, squinting her eyes at him. “Actually, I wouldn’t mind, Jason.

“Great! Dress in long-sleeves and pants. It’s a bit of a hike. I can bring you a towel if you’d like?”

She nodded at his offer. “Sweet!”

Harry internally rolled his eyes at the action of Jason fist-pumping the air. “Can I talk to you for a second?”

Y/N scooted her chair out, abruptly standing, catching both men by surprise.

“I have to go wash the dishes. Kitchen duties,” Y/N wasn’t sure if Harry could hear the sarcastic tone in her voice. She hoped he did. “Let’s go, Jason,”

Y/N walked ahead without as much as a glance at Harry. Jason got out of his own chair, set to follow her.

“Where are you going?” Harry caught him by the arm to quench his curiosity.

“Cleaning up with Y/N.” Jason responded, “It’s not my ideal first date but hey--it’s the person you’re with that makes it special, no?”

Harry’s throat dried up at the statement, stiffly nodding his head in agreement. Though, he and Y/N never labelled anything or made their relationship official--Harry thought that they were building up towards that. Now, he feels like an idiotic fool who ruined--possibly--the best thing that happened to him.

____

fin.

#harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles #harry styles angst #harry styles writing #harry styles x you #harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #notes on camp

[franklyimissparis]

#this is quite niche but i’m re-reading it atm and imagining what the lads would have thought of it #i feel like there is a correct answer here actually lmao #paul mccartney #the beatles #john lennon #george harrison #ringo starr #beatles rpf #notes on camp #susan sontag

[the---hermit]

Notes On Camp by Susan Sontag

I've had this short essay on my tbr for years, ever since a professor mentioned it in one of her lectures. After all this time I finally decided to get my hands on it and read it, since reading more non fiction outside of uni stuff is one of my yearly goals. I must say I really enjoyed it. It's not an easy essay to describe, but I will try my best. In it the author tries to describe and have the reader understand what camp is through a series of bullet points, and to be honest that is the best way to actually try to define what camp is. I wouldn't be able to explain it in a few word, but after reading the essay I do feel like I finally understand what this term means. I remember when we talked about it in class and the professor was trying to get across the meaning I kinda struggled, because there is no such term in my first language and because the meaning is so broad and layered it's really not easy to have a proper explaination. Overall it's a very quick and enjoyable non fiction, and I think it's a nice place to start if you also want to read more non fiction but are intimidated by the task.

#notes on camp #2024 book #bookblr #booklr #books #book cover #book review #book rec #book recommendation #reading #book #mine #the---hermit

[specialshoesclub]

#jjba #jojo's bizarre adventure #camp #notes on camp

[iphisesque]

we finally uncover the lone manuscript containing the rest of the satyricon and it opens with “plurima sunt qui in universo nomen non habent; et si nomen habent, immo plurima sunt qui descriptionem non habent”

#sorry for the shitty latin i never took composition in high school #petronius #satyricon #susan sontag #notes on camp

[yourbelgianthings]

34. Camp taste turns its back on the good-bad axis of ordinary aesthetic judgement. Camp doesn't reverse things. It doesn't argue that the good is bad or the bad is good. What it does is to offer for art (and life) a different -- a supplementary -- set of standards.

41. The whole point of Camp is to dethrone the serious. Camp is playful, anti-serious. More precisely, Camp involves a new, more complex relation to "the serious". One can be serious about the frivolous, frivolous about the serious.

56. Camp taste is a kind of love, love for human nature. It relishes, rather than judges, the little triumphs and awkward intensities of "character". ...Camp taste identifies with what it is enjoying. People who share this sensibility are not laughing at the thing they label as "a camp", they're enjoying it. Camp is a tender feeling.

(excerpts from "notes on camp" by susan sontag, 1964)

#message from mirph #words tag #susan sontag #notes on camp #camp

[campyourstyle]

DIVINE for CREEM DREEM

#divine #camp fashion #notes on camp #john waters #polyester #pink flamingos #female trouble #hairspray #creem magazine #70s

[vital-information]

"Much work in queer and transgender studies is governed by an epistemological framework that, as Robyn Wiegman has argued, “calls for scholars in identity studies to offer cogent and full accounts of identity’s inherent multiplicity in ways that can exact specificity about human experience without reproducing exclusion”. This version of an intersectional critical project faces an injunction to continually bifurcate the categories of identity it takes as its objects, driving toward a horizon beyond which the spider web of subaltern identity will be fully articulated and social justice (or at least its discursive possibility) will be achieved. The attempt to glimpse the other side of this horizon can lead to the fetishization of certain kinds of bodies—the contours of which change over time—as representing an Archimedean endpoint of radical otherness. Within queer theory and politics, rapid changes in the social location of gays and lesbians have forced these contours to shift quite rapidly. As a homonormative political vision has made its way to the center of liberal politics and concomitant rights have been granted to some—generally white, moneyed, and sexually respectable—gay and lesbian subjects, the L, G, and (more ambiguously) B in the bricolage of queer identity no longer appear to pose, in and of themselves, an existential challenge to social and political norms. A queer political discourse that remains beholden to the logic of identity has thus passed the buck along to the T, asking transgender subjects to hold down the fort of queer difference. The transgender subject—and particularly the figure of the trans woman of color—has come to figure within these coordinates as “a utensil to reference at will” when figuring the outer limits of political representability (Vidal-Ortiz). As Kate Millett once wrote of Jean Genet, trans women of color are seen within this discourse as having “achieved the lowest status in the world,” and through that “perfection of opprobrium” have “acquire[d] the pride of the utterly abject, a condition which turns out to be next door to saintliness”.

All of this has led to what we might call a politics of trans sincerity, in which the gender-nonconforming subject is celebrated as transgres-sive to the extent that her nonconformity can be read as serious —that is, to the extent that she rejects camp...

This new vision of transgender evokes David Halperin’s account of a contemporary homonormative sociality in which sex and desire have switched places with culture and sensibility as tokens of admission into gay male life. Whereas once, Halperin quips, gay men hid their porn collections in the closet and framed their Broadway playbills, now they hide their play-bills in the closet and frame their porn (). Yet this state of affairs—which, in the case of both transgender (particularly trans feminine) and gay male aesthetics, pivots on the status of camp—exists in tension with one that has been more often remarked upon: the self-conscious absorption of camp aesthetics into a wide swath of mainstream media productions, from Lady Gaga to RuPaul’s Drag Race, which in turn bear a complex and varied relationship to queer audiences. In Halperin’s account, such productions testify to the survival of gay culture, however disavowed, after several generations of denial that it still exists or still matters.

I would amend this argument to claim that, though camp performance is in fact ubiquitous, camp reading practices—techniques for interpreting a performance, cross-gendered or otherwise, as camp—have been pushed back into the closet. “What Camp taste responds to is ‘instant character,’ ” Sontag writes, “understood as a state of continual incandescence—a person being one, very intense thing”. You may not be the gender you were assigned at birth, but according to the ontology of camp, you are really something. (And most likely you are—as my grandmother would say, with the emphasis on both words—really something.) Camp taste’s response to such incandescence may take on a range of affective and epistemological guises. It can appear as an intimate act of aggression, as in the drag spectator’s “read,” her knowing look at a performance that shows its seams (Butler, Bodies). But it can manifest, too, as what Eve Kosofsky Sedgwick calls camp-recognition, in which the encounter with a tacky or overwrought object elicits a gesture of sympathetic identification from the viewer who, instead of distancing herself from the scene of aesthetic disaster, asks, “What if whoever made this was gay, too?". Either way, camp reading—forsaken or forgotten within much queer political discourse today—marks an attempt to grasp its object as a whole."

Marissa Brostoff, "Notes on Caitlyn, or Genre Trouble"

#queer theory #trans theory #lgbt #marissa brostoff #notes on camp

[ry8video]

edible nuts on display feat. comments on camp

#handycam #hi8 #sony handycam #sonycamcorder #vhs wave #shot by me #vhs tape #camcorder #nuts #camp camp #notes on camp #vhs aesthetic #my video #video #sound on #unmute

[kitschhazel]

The Cockroach was more Camp than when the entire gala’s theme was Camp

#met gala 2023 #cockroach #she served #camp #notes on camp #someone call sontag

[critter-eater]

“culture cannot die, though it may persisit only in increasingly arbitrary and ingenious ways”

- Susan Sontag, Notes on Camp

#susan sontag #notes on camp