While Beyonce’s still keeping true to her song chant: “You must not know ‘bout me,” she did open up a bit while flaunting for Flaunt Magazine …just a bit.
It was just last month or so that we elaborated on the media whispers circulating about how Beyonce amazingly flies under the radar from ever opening herself up in print during neither one of her magazine covers or features—eluding interviews [that typically come with] matching mag spreads (be it print or online). Beyonce tends to turn the page on that part of the deal.
Instead, the singing powerhouse elects to do [what I call in the world “The Beyonce”]: plays a game of “Blue’s Clues” where she let’s her fans connect her dots bye either:
- Read her face in her stills for the spread
- Or (like in last months Vogue spread): let people speak of her for her
- Or (like last year’s CR Book spread): choose other’s words that identify with her
- Or…(as a last ditch interest to satisfy all curiosities): refer yous back to the music
S’all we got.
*claps and wipes hands at the same time
This month though in Flaunt, she stepped her game up a smidgen:
While she didn’t do an actual sit-down with the mag (again-in addition to flaunting her stuff) she did fill in the blanks written in her own hand writing-answering some one word questions to words thrown her way.
This is how the magazine got her to speak: By building a fictitious city (called “Califuk”-a city built of words to describe the town, its plight, the atmosphere and its “types” via sleuth of adjectives, nouns, verbs and other superlatives and dangling participles).
As well, they crowned a queen (“Beyonce”) and from there-in between the blank spaces of the city-in Beyonce’s handwriting and own words; she wrote just what came to mind right in between these blank spaces of this [fictitious] “city.”
In Flaunt.com’s own words:
In our fair city of CALIFUK, the threat of drones, falsity, cyber-desecration, and malicious propaganda abound. Survival here is a weighty effort—not for the insincere, the weak. For our success as a supercity isn’t pegged to the yuan, to seasons, to buying. This is not Manhattan Island, not a fashion’s fight out. This is a movement—not available for streaming, or indices—about place-making and cultured fissure. And abandon. And intimacy. And her.
See: CALIFUK’s throne ascension by phenomenon, Beyoncé. There she sits, unwilling at the moment to invite distraction of the fundamental mission of her rule: to shape culture, to inspire the hip parade as well as the fringe, to rehearse, rehearse, rehearse, to drop filthy, filthy tracks on this swelling, warring, cap-melting planet. To make an impact.
Being the sincerity glutton I am (who keeps her peace and would rather not have anything at all if not sincere)…I think even I kind like Califuk’s mantra and may tackle it and post it.
But for now, let’s see how Beyonce filled in the blank spaces (click to enlarge):
