Diana Ross, smart for town, at this weekend’s concert in her hometown of Detroit, where she was born a poor black child in the Brewster Projects.
There were songs, there was music, there was fabric, there was hair (none of it hers), there were ear-rings, there was adulation, there were costume changes, there were gays, there were gaggles, there were gaggles of gays. Roses were thrown, tantrums were thrown, fits were thrown.
All in all, a good night. So we imagine.
This old thing? I only wear it when I don't care *how* I look!,