When I travel, I always try to visit local independent and/or used bookstores. Last month, I did (of course!) the obligatory tourist visit to Powells Books in Portland, Oregon. What an amazing place – book heaven!
Its erotica section was impressive. Two or three bookcases stocked full of recent releases and a smattering of older, used books from the explosive publishing that came with the sexual revolution of the late 60s and early 70s towered over me, commanding my time and attention. I’m pretty selective these days in choosing books to flesh out my own library (over a thousand volumes these days) and settled on Samuel Delany’s highly transgressive novel, Hogg, and Bruno Phillips’ The Main Point: The Life and Work of a Porno Film Maker, doubting that I’d see that book again anytime soon.
But selectivity didn’t keep me from further shopping. I’ve learned that one way independent bookstores distinguish themselves is through their “peripherals” — stationery, journals, postcards, book-related gifts, swag – and Powells was no exception. Except that its selection was exceptional. And I stumbled over several gems, one of which was a manga-inspired journal.
When it first caught my eye, I thought it’d make a great gift for my daughter. Until I saw its characters were entwined in a major hot and heavy hookup. Whoa! Fanning myself, I checked out who produced the dang thing because I hadn’t seen the likes of it before. Near the barcode were the words JC de Castelbajac (atomic maison) and POPTERIE. A little web-searching revealed it was a collaboration between a European fashion designer and a French stationery company.
So that’s why the characters were dressed in (and undressing from) busy attire reminiscent of Toile de Juoy which, ironically, means fabric of joy!
Despite Google translations, the dialog remains cryptic to me – a blend of colloquialisms and vague non sequiturs? Only two word balloons were easy to contextualize.
What really got me was this one, hot panel. Oh yeah, the deal was sealed. I was gonna buy this journal and no one could stop me. No way, no how.
That the last panel left me dangling made me panting all the more – man, retail therapy at its best!
