Any connoisseur of celebrity blogs and paparazzi-approved YouTube channels is probably familiar with her. She reigned the streets of Beverly Hills, Calif. circa 2009 – 2010. As a ruler, she was as “of the people” as they come: her throne was a lawn chair, her crown a humble scarf, her glass slippers a pair of worn sneakers. In a city deficient of superheros, Quween was a rare find.
This is Zipporah. She’s rich, loves life, has traveled the world — and is certain she will be famous some day. Oh, and she thinks you’re cute and wants to know all about your heritage.
Why? . . . Why are you asking? You’re in Surreal LA.
In a city so preoccupied with beauty and youth, Los Angeles is home to a small army of eccentric older ladies whose eyes still sparkle with a young starlet’s dreams of fame, fortune and love.
If you’ve spent anytime roaming the streets of Hollywood proper or Beverly Hills, you’ve seen them: older women in their sixties and seventies dressed to the nines in all kinds of theatrical assembles begging for your attention. I’ve seen eighty year-old pink-haired old punks standing in line for band auditions, a wheelchair-bound Cinderella buying Depends in a CVS — and a grandmother wearing an ornate feathered mask in a Ralph’s.
Some people call them crazy. I’d like to think of them as withered flowers.