Wild Women of Sundance II: Seriously, Who Stole My “Ass Backwards” Panties?

So, I’m still floating on a Sundance cloud and I still haven’t told you about hot tub night. Park City was a chilly nineteen degrees and the surrounding snow looked soft like a giant comforter you could fall into and not get wet. The chairlifts carried skiers up the mountain to the slopes above. It reminded me of skiing as a kid; leaning to and fro to make the chairlift swing hard until I got scared. Skiers and snow boarders blew warm breath into their gloved palms on the free shuttles. After buying lunch from a grocery store (with a fireplace!) a group of us went to a bus stop to see a movie about a teacher who slowly unravels due to falling in love with her high school student. It wasn’t great but I liked seeing the teacher regress into an adolescent as she descended into a forbidden obsession and that she got caught in the driveway by the kid’s dad and that it ended in a seedy hotel room with her curled into a crazy ball and her phone blowing up, totally busted—that curled up crazy you never recover from or escape. You, your shame and four thin cheap walls and a dirty peach bedspread. Great ending, but best part of seeing “A Teacher” was the way we got there.
At the bus stop, It was dangerously close to movie time and no bus. And the sun was so bright white and glaring, we peeled our layers off and got saucy. Stephen stuck his arm and thumb out all slick and charming when the ladies passed by in their full loaded SUVs. They totally looked him up and down with their car seats cluttering their back seats.
I stuck my fingerless gloved hands out next, feeling like
a fifteen-year old in a bad slasher film with my cool sunglasses and tight shirt, inviting trouble. When none of our thumbs were up anymore, a guy turned around in his huge empty flatbed truck. It’s one thing to pick up a couple chicks hitch hiking to a movie during Sundance in Park City, but quite another to pick up 5 hitch hikers. The guy had balls. Turns out, he was just impossibly baked and good natured. He let us know right away he was looking for gas money. So after we smashed into the passenger side and the teeny back seat, Stephen and I palmed him a couple five spots and made it in time for the film which I already told you about.

My Panties

That same night, I attended a lady dinner honoring the creative women of Sundance. It sounded super intimidating and fancy. I imagined power bitches with blowouts doing juvederm shots, but it wasn’t at all. It was casual and fun and a bunch of confident women laughing and exchanging emails and cute tiny pink business cards. After those few initial awkward moments of shit, they won’t want to talk to me and I won’t know what to say to them and isn’t this weird, I was good. The dinner hosted by Jill Soloway and Elysa Koplovitz, a super sexy brunette who produced the other movie I worked on, “Ass Backwards,” a comedy like Thelma and Louise meets Romy and Michelle.

Jill and Elysa

The writers and actors from “Ass Backwards” were two ridiculously adorable chicks who handed out white cotton underwear with the dates and times that “Ass Backwards” was playing (say it with me: “Genius”). They gave me the panties because I was a stripper in their movie and hope to be a stripper in their next movie. Their movie was one of those amazing tales you hear where they stopped production a year into it because they ran out of funds then—poof—an angel swooped in and invested. I came on the scene when the whole crew was elated and blessed and had a really fun day with them on set.

Ass Backwards Girls

Jill Soloway helped me get over myself. She said “Go over there. That’s Naomi Wolf!” You know, Naomi Wolf (“The Beauty Myth” and “Vagina”) the feminist writer, pioneer. She was in a sea of more gorgeous, powerful, familiar looking women, but I elbowed my way to her anyway. She was my idol in the 90′s. Her and Camille Paglia were the reason I shaved my head and tore of my wig on stage at The Century Theater in the early 90′s. She was really genuine and pretty and her eyes sparkled like my mom’s. I told her she looked like my mom when she was young. She tweeted about my book and then asked me some questions about how sex work can possibly be empowering and we began a dialogue about Lovelace which appeared in The Guardian here.

Naomi Wolf!

Finally, we headed to the hot tub which happened to be in the Juno Temple and Kathryn Hahn lodge. Some of us were 100% commando but Kathryn Hahn wore some suspiciously untouched “Ass Backwards” panties that she may or may not have lifted from my purse. It was a yummy moment of girl talk and stories, some so private I can’t bear to reveal them here except for a very funny massage that Jill Soloway had by a dude. And even though I miss my “Ass Backwards” panties, I can’t imagine a cuter butt for those briefs to hug and I hope she thinks of me when she wears them.

Where are they?

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