I don’t know about you, but I think Barbra Streisand, a Williamsburg native, is a lot more masculine than most of the men currently inhabiting her turf. The woman dresses in tailored suits, after all, which is always an instantaneous emblem of power/being in total control.
The men who have overrun Barbra’s sweet Williamsburg of the post-WWII era have shown her no respect. They’ve allowed themselves to atrophy in the face of no struggle. Barbra, on the other hand, grew up fatherless and penniless. And then she had to inhale all manner of secondhand smoke while singing in nightclubs as a teen. That’s why her voice is also generally deeper that a Williamsburg “man’s.”
Barbra once said “I’m so glad I came from Brooklyn–it’s down to earth.” Not anymore, Babs, not anymore. And especially not with all these dickless men running around your town without at least offering the hipster consolation of having seen some of your more esoteric films, like What’s Up, Doc? or The Owl and the Pussycat.
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