Style. Plumage. Good looks. Charisma. Presence. Iconoclasm.

Gentlefolk of the internet, here on Earth we are constantly dragged down by the drab and menacing doings of Homo sapiens. And yet every red carpet you and I have ever seen has been wall-to-wall human. It’s enough! It’s too much!

What are we to do, then, we who love fashion? we who admire a bold statement? we who live for a sense of occasion?

Why, we turn our gaze to the beings among us that don’t merely visit but live the red carpet. The beings so innately chic, so committed to the bit that they never change back into loungewear, ever ever. They die in their finery. They are finery. Do these beings do harm? A little, sure! But they stick to their normal amounts and they’re not trying to murder the globe or stop everyone else from being themselves and living a nice life and we love them for it.

Who are they?

They’re

FAUNA

*PRESS PLAY*

oh shit

press play then COME BACK

unless you’re reading this on the web instead of in your email

THEN: PRESS PLAY

First to arrive this evening is the secretary bird. Some speculated that this creature would be born a bird in a longer gown because we’re doing a special event but the secretary bird has chosen to highlight their legs.

The half-length stocking is charming, gamine, Founding Fathers-y, and that’s an unmistakable Twiggy reference with the lashes. Orange eyeshadow down to the nose and they got some on their mouth and I think that’s on purpose but I’m not going to ask because I could get killed.

The coastal peacock spider is seen arriving on…someone’s…palm…or no, a…thing. A brown thing. Eyes by Cartier. Headgear is by somebody. Don’t worry about it. Need-to-know basis. Judging by the victorious arms in the air, the coastal peacock spider expects to win whatever’s getting won this evening. We’re seeing a white fur collar and some testicles directly below that, I think. No, I’m sorry, I’m getting corrected. That’s a butt. No, sorry. It’s boobs. Again, wow, I’m so sorry. So much information coming at me. It’s testicles. I think it’s testicles.

The orchid mantis is exquisite in this simple palette of white and I guess we could call that “orchid” although I want to note as delicately as I can that the mantis does appear primed to take a whizz. I’m old-fashioned in that I don’t love to see people relieving themselves on the red carpet but my teenagers laugh at me. Ok boomer. Nobody cares. It’s real, it’s beautiful.

Now, I love it when someone shows up in something understated but fresh. Not overtly formal but of obvious design and quality. That someone tonight is the sand cat. Just a little different but not screaming for attention. Interesting around the head. The subtle stripes are to die for. Something else I enjoy here is that there are sand cats on the planet. I don’t know where but they’re around, presumably. This is a comfortable look as well. Is this wool?

The leafy sea dragon, for me, harkens back to Michelle Williams and her marigold Vera Wang at the 2005 Oscars. An all-time favorite. Good to see it again.

This is a pigeon. So I guess pigeons can do this anytime they want but they choose not to. I don’t want to hear about “That’s a different kind of pigeon than the normal pigeon, that’s a Victoria crowned pigeon”. Whatever. All I know is I walked across a Safeway parking lot in 1992 and I had to walk through a flock of pigeons to get to my car and they were all just sitting on the ground while I walked among them which was awful enough but when I was halfway through them they all took off. PIGEONS IN THE AIR, PIGEONS AT ME, FLAPPING FLAPPING, NO REGARD, A CROWD, ENDLESS, THEY TOUCHED ME

This pigeon wasn’t there. This pigeon is fine.

A goddamned candy crab, they call one of these. I didn’t know until TODAY that there are candy crabs. I’m guessing either peppermint or rhubarb. Whoever did the flowers is also a genius.

The sun is setting and the lilac-breasted roller has arrived with its…

let it be its bodyguard let it be its bodyguard

For the flamingo, this cherished style icon, we turn to the immortal words of Marc Rebillet, who said:

Yo, I'm hopping all aroundI'm a pink birdI'm walking all aroundBetter drink some wawaI'm just a flamingoI'm coming on your shoreline

Here I goI'm gonna peacefully drink, yoI'm slowly creepin’ up to your front yardNothing threatening hereI'm just a flaminGAHI'm a flamingo and I'm coming up to yaOh, is that your child?I'm gonna rip out his muthafuckin' eyeballI'm gonna rip out his goddamn eyeballI'm a flamingoI'ma rip out your eyeballI'm a flamingoWhen I get up in your child's eyeballNo more eyeball, child, bitch

Finally we return to the being who greeted us at the top of the post, the cosmic jellyfish. A dome, fringe, pillars of light, an outdoor walkway.

Please. Humans. It’s over.

Take a break, go back to school. Learn how to be cool.

Cosmic jellyfish is not only style, cosmic jellyfish is ambience.

Cosmic jellyfish is not only style and ambience,

cosmic jellyfish is an entire venue.

I was going to put this post behind the paywall as a thank-you to my paid subscribers but I couldn’t bear to do it. I want everyone to get everything. Seems like a waste to hoard it, too. All written and everything and what if it makes somebody have fun? That said, paid subscriptions make the Weekly Zephyr sustainable and will continue to cause extra content to appear. Paid subscribers, I thank you very hard! Anyone who wants to join them, I thank you in advance!

As always, sharing the Weekly Zephyr is another important and glorious form of support.