Mortified's Naked Nation

You know that dream you have about being back in high school and having to read aloud an essay to your class... but for some reason you forgot your clothes?

Well, this is the reverse. And whether it's a dream or nightmare is up to you.

Recently, we held a secret Mortified show in NYC. It was a private event held in the upstairs room of a respected restaurant. And it had one twist. Everyone in the audience was going to be eating, drinking, laughing... and buck naked.

The event was hosted by Clothing Optional Dinner, a humble nudist society that hosts social gatherings at bars, cafes and clubs around Manhattan. We were both surprised and flattered to be invited to participate.

Given that Mortified explores the notion of exposing oneself, we naturally found the premise of doing an event before an unclothed audience to be a fascinating psychological experiment. We'd be emotionally naked on stage... while our audience would be physically naked at tables. Turns out, the show was a big hit with both performers (Law Tarello, Brandy Barber, Giulia Rozzi, and Anne Altman) and audience members alike.

For those who're curious, when we asked Clothing Optional Dinner if we needed to strip to our skivvies in order to perform, too, they said we had to be either fully dressed or fully nude. No wishy-washy people in bras or boxer shorts. Needless to say, we not only wore clothes, we got all dolled up for the occasion. A truly strange and wonderful night.

Was there a scientific result? Yes. Whether you're male or female, dressed or undressed, being naked in public shows the world you've got balls.

On a strangely related-but-not-related note, NewTeeVee covered the recent outbreak of naked vloggers spreading (pun?) across YouTube.

Which re-ignites a question that Mortified is frequently asked. In an era of populist media, where is the line between positive self-expression vs. icky exhibitionism? We go to great lengths to protect Mortified from veering into the latter category (it's the main reason we're adamant about vetting all material) and hopefully we succeed.

Regardless, the air in the naked nation is getting a wee bit nipply.

Mortified Goes Goth

For years, we've collected countless notebook entries, journals and poems from kids who wrote obsessively about... The Cure.

At a recent stage show in LA, those tables turned in the best possible way when Laurence "Lol" Tollhurst, one of the founding members of The Cure (and apparent Mortified superfan), actually joined Mortified on stage.

In addition to sitting in with The Mortified After School Orchestra for the night, Lol also helped performer Kirsten Gronfield bring to life an awkward Cure-inspired song that she wrote at age 15. Lol was a great sport and his latest band Levinhurst is worth checking out.

In related news, The Cure is celebrating their 30th anniversary this year. Help celebrate this milestone by wearing lots of black eyeliner to work tomorrow.

Because Kids Love Portly Middle Aged Men!

Many fans of our first book, Mortified: Real Words Real Pathetic, have expressed fascination with a chapter in which an overweight boy, Steve Scaia, wrote letters to Mr. Belvedere, a sitcom character from the 1980s.

We've always been fascinated with Steve's strange Belv obsession, too. Mostly because it's just kinda weird that a fat, balding, vaguely gay, mustache-ioed, middle-aged man would emerge as a childhood icon.



Fonzie, we get. Mr. T, we totally get. Belv, well, that's just kinda creepy. And yet, the fact remains-- kids truly loved him. For those who crave further proof of this bizarre blip in history, behold this bit of evidence.

Mortified's Super Sexy Holiday Hangover Bonus

Last week, the greeting card industry once again got America drunk on the notion that yes indeed, YOU ARE IN LOVE. Did you know that you are? No? Well, you are, whether you like it or not. Congratulations, sexy.

This week, however, we at Mortified are reeling from the annual holiday hangover. And we'd like to help you regain your emotional sobriety without too much pain.

Here's a teaser of our new romantically-challenged book, MORTIFIED: Love Is a Battlefield-- a compilation of people's actual childhood writings (letters, lyrics, journals, poetry, art). All themed to romance.

The following entry was written in 1989 by Colleen Kane, who as a teenager never met a headbanger she didn't like. In this excerpt from her journal, Colleen describes attending the hotbed of teen lust that is... a theme park.

Clearly, those who think Paris is the city of romance have never seen the majestic glow of a mullet on a rollercoaster.



* * * *

September 4, 1989

Oh my gosh! So much has happened since I got a perm! Thursday, I got my perm and was really scared, but it came out looking really nice and I look older now. Friday, I'd been at Denise A's overnight and that day we went to Great Adventure.

Two guys tried to pick us up—real geekaroos. Well one was OK. But the scuzz, Carl, was a showoff, and he tried to start a conversation with us by commenting on my Bon Jovi shirt. He said "Bon Jovi stinks." (LIES!) I turned around and glared at him. His cousin, as I learned he was later, was apologetic. He's like, "I like Bon Jovi." I turned back around. Carl, (no, I bet it's spelled the annoying way, with a K) Karl continued. "No, they really do."

I turned, glanced at his Ozzy Ozbourne t-shirt, and said, "Ozzy sucks." His cousin, Mike, said, I agree, "Ozzy does suck, and Bon Jovi's cool."

I thanked him, and Denise & I went on the Ferris wheel. Then after the ride the guys hooked up with us and came along to the Scream Machine. Embarrassing. What could we say? Go away?

That night we went to the boardwalk. We saw these guys a few times as we walked up and down and one with long brown hair was pretty cute. They said hello once as we passed. Then when waiting for our pictures to come out of the booth, one of the guys that had said hello asked me if I'd like to meet that guy over there and asked my name.

He went over to the long-haired (!) guy and told him, came back and told me his name was Mike, went back, and brought Mike and his friends and we, Denise, Mike & I walked off. We talked basically about music and Bon Jovi. He's really nice and really sweet and cute. Not hot, but cute. So after about an hour, his friends told him they had to go home.

So he had to go, but he asked for my ! He had me write it on the back of a picture he'd won of a naked woman with strategically placed limbs and beer bottle. Classy.

After that, Denise and I freaked! She was so psyched for me! Then we walked to a private part at the boardwalk and she told me about this guy who'd been calling her for awhile and I touched the sand because I hadn't touched it all summer. It was so soft. It was a starless night, as Mike had pointed out. Then we went home.

We've talked on the phone 4x, a record for me. He really likes talking to me. It's a toll call. He wants to spend all his money on calling me! He wants to ride his bike to my house! (He lives 1/2 an hour from Point Pleasant) And-- he told me I'm pretty!!!!! EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! This is the first time a boy ever has!

...
Well, as you can imagine, my confidence is really boosted-- one reason that I'm sorta looking forward to school. I think the guys'll notice me this year, if Friday was any indication. Well, I'm gonna go brood over some cookies and milk. Bye.

Mortified's 5-Step "Valentine Survival Guide"

Ok. Want to know how to redeem yourself this Valentine's season even though you forgot to buy a gift in time?

Behold, Mortified's 5 step solution to romantic redemption.

1. Go to favorite book/music store
2. Buy Mortified: Love is a Battlefield
3. Buy the greatest hits from Air Supply
4. Give these 2 items to a lonely loved one
5. Commence dry humping

If you have a friend who is lonely and kinda bummed out this Valentine's day, I highly suggest the above 5 steps. They will thank you.

Give the gift of angst.

Dave