Cream Scene Carnival

A letter from your Editor-in-Chief, the OG Cream-Scener

I saw The John Waters Christmas Show in New Orleans last night, and I wore other-worldly palette sequins, big and over-sized like flying saucers, because I anticipated an explosion of color and sparkle. It was not the extravaganza I expected. I pictured a big Kitschmas production, with a chorus line of pink flamingos and glittered turds on silver platters. I swear someone promised it would be that way. Wasn’t it Waters? In his book about hitchhiking or in his essay about Johnny Mathis? I expected the nutcracker on acid; instead, I got a story about how Mink Stole and John Waters dropped acid together at 70.

I’m in the middle of a magazine launch, so my attention drifted to spreadsheets and release dates, but then John Waters reveals that an audience member once gifted him with a baby Jesus butt plug. That phrase—baby Jesus butt plug—is like a head pat from Hermes. It’s a forehead kiss from the universe, an omen-seeker’s solace. Ya see, Cream Scene once published a lengthy piece about baby Jesus butt plugs. It was classic bozo journalism, it even cost me a big job.

(That’s how you know you’re doing it right.)

Back then, I was all by my lonesome, writing Cream Scene like a fiend and amassing weirdo articles for this imaginary magazine, just to see if people took to the oddball blend. I hoped to make it a real boy, opening Cream Scene Carnival to contributors, giving it over to an editorial team, to illustrators, and writers, managing editors, and art directors. I didn’t want to be alone on stage, just twirling my mustache and musing on anal prolapse. I wanted an extravaganza—weirdo art, fairy-tale fashion, dancing sugarplums, and singing poos.

That was the ultimate dream. I never expected it in the first issue. I don’t know how we pulled it off—and in record time. We planned for this debut to be just us and our friends, just a bohemian collection of our various obsessions, and it’s almost exactly that, but WOW.

We have really cool friends! We have cool obsessions!

Under that friendly umbrella, I include all the old readers and the new, all the strangers who became contributors and featured artists (and who now are friends). Thank you, Sara, Sutton, Sean, Victor, Beppi, Mary, Cara, Kizzy, Andie, Andreea, Andy, Simon, Jonathan, Caitlyn, Lauren, Francesca, Frank, Omar, Blank, Pink, and Muotikummitus, our Angel of Cookie Mueller. Thank you to our #itgirl, her glam squad, photogs, and everyone who worked on The Ghost Of Christmas Future. You created the fairy-tale fashion spread of my dreams. Thank you for taking a chance on us. Thank you to everyone who offered something of themselves to this debut. Thank you to Katy, singing bird and queen of pirates. Best art director and co-editor in the world.

This issue became the most beautiful batch of stone soup.

Pass the spoons!

xoXXXox, Dia

P.S. We look forward to submissions from new friends for our upcoming issues!