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A Tour Of Graceland Reveals Elvis Presley Was The King Of A Curious Domain
This story was originally published on Forbes.com in September 2017.
If you find yourself in Memphis, Tennessee, you pretty much have to tour Graceland, the nearly 14-acre pastoral estate once inhabited by Elvis Presley, the King of Rock and Roll. The residence isn't far from downtown, and sits on a regular road. Across the street from the home, there's a massive complex devoted to all things Presley. But what's curious about taking a stroll around the grounds is that it's less like touring the opulent domain of a once glorified musician and more like taking a deep dive into the abode of a man obsessed with reflections and concealments. At a certain point, in Graceland itself, you might find yourself on a short flight of stairs descending to a basement, and you'll look around yourself to see mirrors have been mounted on the walls and the ceiling, and as you gaze at a vision of yourself reflected back at you, you'll wonder why a man who was adored by so many built a world of his own that was a literal funhouse hall of mirrors.
Before you make your way to Graceland proper and after you plunk down $57.50 (for $5 more, you can tour the airplanes—and how can you not tour the airplanes?), you enter Elvis Presley's Memphis, which is located across the street from Graceland. It is a sprawling complex of Stores That Sell Things Related to Elvis, Museums Devoted to Things Related to Elvis, and Restaurants That Sell Foods That Are Related to Elvis. But before you make your way through it, you are funneled into a room to watch a movie that celebrates The King. When that ends, you are shuttled into a shuttle that meanders and winds its way down and around and across the street to Graceland. There, you wait in line while groups of Elvis Fans and People Interested in Elvis line up to enter the Colonial Revival white and stone mansion. Finally, you enter The House Where Elvis Lived. At which point, you will likely turn to your right and see the peacocks.
This is the music room. Graceland consists of over 17,000 square feet of residence and contains 23 rooms, but the glowing gold of the peacock room is among the most impressive. Simply put, it is incredibly outrageous. Who would put massive stained glass peacocks in their front room? Elvis, that's who. From the start, it's clear that we're not in Kansas anymore, and Toto has left the room.
Being at Graceland makes one—or at least made this one—feel uneasy. Every room is decorated in some outrageous fashion. In the basement, there's a wall embedded with television sets. A retro surveillance camera lurks on a perch. Bizarrely, the billiards room is hung from walls to ceiling with a busily patterned pleated fabric. No one is allowed upstairs to the second floor, which purportedly remains untouched since Elvis died in an upstairs bathroom. In this stuck-in-time place, life is forever frozen, and it's unclear if you are the voyeur or under a microscope.
Arguably, the most outrageous room at Graceland is the den. It is known as "The Jungle Room." The green shag carpet is designed to resemble thick grass. The furniture is made of heavy wood and upholstered in what looks like fur. The red glowing wall where a fireplace would go in the average suburban home features a gently burbling waterfall. The effect is deeply 1970s Polynesian.
One doesn't typically associate Elvis with racquetball, yet if one stumbles from the disconcerting time capsule that is Graceland and strolls about behind the main house, one can peek inside a series of buildings, one of which contains the newly restored racquetball court. According to the Graceland website, one of Elvis's favorite past times was playing racquetball. The Memphis Flyer reveals that Elvis was part of a "racquetball mafia," and the King was no slouch at the game: "Elvis walloped the ball around the court like he was strumming a guitar for the fun of it."
Technically speaking, Elvis still resides at Graceland. He is buried, alongside several family members, in what's called the Meditation Garden. "He became a living legend in his own time, earning the respect and love of millions," his grave marker reads. "God saw that he needed some rest and called him home to be with Him." Tour takers stand nearby, taking pictures of the fallen king.
After touring Graceland, you will be shuttled back across the street. Behold Elvis's plane collection. It includes The Lisa Marie, a Convair 880 jet. "On April 17, 1975, Elvis bought a Convair 880 Jet, recently taken out of service by Delta Airlines, for the then-substantial sum of $250,000," Elvis Australia reports. "After refurbishing, the total exceeded $600,000."
This past March, Graceland opened Elvis Presley's Memphis at Graceland, a $45 million, 200,000-square-foot entertainment complex that includes the Elvis the Entertainer Career Museum, the Presley Motors Automobile Museum, and Elvis Discovery Exhibits. There are white bedazzled jumpsuits. There is a 1955 pink Cadillac Fleetwood. Down the street, Elvis Presley Enterprises spent $90 million to build The Guest House at Graceland to host a few of the 600,000 annual guests Graceland, including those who can afford up to $1,500 a night for a room.
At Gladys' Diner, I ordered the peanut butter and banana sandwich, which was, the sign said, fried in "bacon grease." Frankly, while I had been optimistic about the sandwich, it didn't look like much. I don't know if I spent too much time photographing the sandwich for Instagram, but by the time I bit into it, it wasn't very appetizing. This sandwich was a favorite of the King. It is known as "an Elvis sandwich" or "The Elvis."
By the time I left Graceland, the parking lot was filling, and the fans were funneling in for their turn at the Elvis experience. Personally, my Elvis experience left me feeling uneasy. What was the point of becoming so famous and so beloved if it prompted you to build a house in which most surfaces were reflective? In the end, the king stood alone, surrounded by his mirror image.
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What I'm (Re)Watching: True Romance
I’m re-watching True Romance, one of my all-time favorite movies.
From Wikipedia:
True Romance is a 1993 American romantic crime film directed by Tony Scott and written by Quentin Tarantino. It features an ensemble cast led by Christian Slater and Patricia Arquette, with Dennis Hopper, Val Kilmer, Gary Oldman, Brad Pitt, and Christopher Walken in supporting roles. Slater and Arquette portray newlyweds on the run from the Mafia after stealing a shipment of drugs.
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Babygirl
Cannot wait to see Babygirl, the upcoming erotic thriller starring Nicole Kidman. You can view the trailer here.
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ZOË BY PURIENNE
From YouTube: “Saint Laurent Rive Droite, through SL Editions, is pleased to present a new book, featuring Zoë Kravitz photographed by Henrik Purienne.” You can buy a copy of the book for $135 on YSL.com.
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Pam's Coffy
A movie poster on the wall at the very cool Pam’s Coffy. Follow me on Instagram for more of my photographs.
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Humphrey Bogart
A Franklin Village parking lot mural of Humphrey Bogart. Follow me on Instagram for more of my photos.
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Life in LA
Rabbits, Malibu Canyon, and a dress made of books. Follow me on Instagram for more of my photographs.
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How Rapper Iggy Azalea Is Making Money On OnlyFans
This article was originally published on Forbes.com on January 22, 2023.
Iggy Azalea is the latest celebrity to join OnlyFans. Once dominated by sex workers seeking to boost their brands and monetize their relationships to their fans, the subscription-based content service has seen a rise in mainstream stars joining its ranks, including Bella Thorne, Denise Richards, and DJ Khaled. Amber Rose, another celebrity on OnlyFans and a former stripper, has described the platform as “a digital strip club.” So it only makes sense that Azalea, an Australian rapper who has proclaimed that she is, in fact, the strip club, would sign up, too.
But Azalea’s OnlyFans isn’t just any old OnlyFans. It is a year-long, collaborative multimedia project entitled Hotter Than Hell that will feature music, photography, video, art, and, according to a press release, content from “her upcoming fourth studio album.” For $25 a month, subscribers will get a front-row seat to the project as it drops, before the rest of the world sees it. The concept was inspired by Pamela Anderson, 90s supermodels, and Madonna’s controversial book Sex and culminates with a coffee table book to be released in December 2023.
Curious to check out Azalea’s project, I signed up for OnlyFans and paid $25 to subscribe to her content stream. At the top of her feed, a small green circle appeared next to her avatar (which was an image of Azalea licking a cherry); next to her OnlyFans handle, it read: “Available now.” Was Azalea actually live on the site? Was I more proximate to her than I had been before handing over my money? It seemed possible.
The first post was the aforementioned cherry-licking photo and the words: “The sweetest angel”; below that, it noted how many likes the post had and the dollar amount of tips it had garnered from her fans. (Tips are another way OnlyFans creators can generate revenue.) At the time of this writing, that post had 2,501 likes and $233.20 in tips. There were more images to come: Azalea in green lingerie, Azalea getting her makeup done, Azalea posing seemingly nude next to a swimming pool while eating a cherry with her nipple discreetly hidden from view. One post featured a nine-second audio clip of Azalea — “Hey, babe,” she purred to me? us? her anonymous fans? — offering an enticement to be “a part of my VIP for a year by tipping $250 and receive a one-year link subscription and a free photo that’s just for my VIPS.” That post had 685 likes and a staggering $15,690 in tips. (OnlyFans takes a 20% cut of its creators’ revenues.) Maybe I should be on OnlyFans, I mused.
So it went over the days that followed. There were more images. There were more audio clips. There was a video clip of a scantily-clad Azalea that had been filmed through a window as if the viewer (me) was spying on her; the text with it read: “Working my angles [butterfly emoji, fire emoji].” When I didn’t check Azalea’s content stream, I got emails from OnlyFans telling me that I had unread messages from her, as if I had left her on read. When I logged back into OnlyFans, I discovered those messages contained locked content, another way the site’s creators can make money. With the Pay Per View feature, members must pay more to access locked content. One was $40. Another was $28. Yet another was $35. Each message had a come-hither note, but the visual content was behind an image of a padlock.
I thought about unlocking the rest of Azalea’s content, but I didn’t. By that point I had read that she had “sold her master recording and publishing catalog to Domain Capital for an eight-figure sum” late last year. She didn’t need the money, I figured.
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Me and Brad Pitt
My breakfast, including a Brad Pitt celebralatte. Follow me on Instagram for more photos from my life in L.A.
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The Other Funny Girl
The estate sale of Carol Burnett’s assistant. Follow me on Instagram for more photos from my life in L.A.
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What He Said
via Clayton Cubitt
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From the Archives
From left to right:
A woman at an adult convention in Rosemead, IL
Attendees at the AVN Awards in Las Vegas, NV
A porn star at an adult convention in Las Vegas, NV
(All photos by me.)
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Your 22 Minutes
In this week's newsletter, I try to remember how I ended up on Playboy TV, share how to recognize Your 22 Minutes, and reveal the famous men you encounter on dating apps when you live in LA. Read it here. Subscribe here.
An excerpt:
Last week I mentioned that one of Hollywood’s most famous (and shortest) TV executive producers hit me up on Tinder. When you live in L.A., dating apps are sprinkled with folks you’ve seen on the screen. Among those I’ve spotted in Swipeland: Mike Judge, The Allstate Guy, Stuttering John, Todd Bridges, and a porn director who shall remain nameless. I’ve since quit Tinder—again.
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Once Upon a Time ... in Burbank
A recent shot from my Instagram feed.
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It Me
Like what I do? Support my work! Buy my digital short story: THE TUMOR.
The Golden Beaver
On Twitter, I offered up an entrepreneurial question. Hypothetically, were I to open a strip club where all the dancers were 50+, what would I call it? The contenders were COUGARS, OLD MAIDS, and THE GOLDEN BEAVER. To little surprise, the winner is: THE GOLDEN BEAVER. In theory, all dancers would keep 100% of their earnings, the house moms would also be financial advisors, and Jennifer Lopez would be the headliner. Think I’m kidding? Given that MILF is the #4 most-searched-for term on Pornhub, this model was built to scale.
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Stars in LA
Celebrities I’ve seen since moving back to LA
Pete Townshend
Rachel Dratch
Tobey Maguire
Halsey
Riz Ahmed
Jodie Foster
Mick Fleetwood
John Cho
Stassi Schroeder
Michael Yo
Gerard Butler
Marilu Henner
Ken Todd
Stephanie Allynne
Domhnall Gleeson
Alexis Ren
Noah Centineo
Paula Newsome
Oliver Hudson
Celebrities I haven’t seen since moving back to LA
Brad Pitt
George Clooney
Idris Elba
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Kylie Gone Wild
13m Likes, 134.8k Comments - Kylie ✨ (@kyliejenner) on Instagram: "When Houston meets LA .. 💛 @playboy #ComingSoon"
Tomorrow I’ll be on “The Quicky” on the Mamamia podcast network, where I’ll be talking about Kylie Jenner’s upcoming Playboy spread. She’s on the cover with boyfriend Travis Scott, and she’s not wearing much, it seems. The images were shot and / or creative designed by Scott. I’ve written about Playboy previously, and I was a regular on Playboy TV’s “Sexcetera” for five years. I still love the brand.
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Making up with the Kardashians
What the fuck makes this video so hypnotic? It is 10 minutes and 31 seconds long, it has nearly 2.3M views, and I watched the whole thing without fast-forwarding. In it, Kim Kardashian puts makeup on her face. Basically, that’s it. Sure, she talks. Yes, products are plugged. In theory, one is learning something. But what exactly are we witnessing here? Surely, it must be more than that. Whatever it is, it is simultaneously shallow (she is smearing substances across her visage) and deep (watching it, one falls into a vicarious, Narcissus-esque stupor: If only we could wallow in our own superficiality so exquisitely). Or, perhaps, it’s something else. What surprised me (quietly!) about the piece was that she didn’t just directly build herself a new face—she obliterated her real face first. When we start, her face is naked. Then she turns her tableaux into a blank canvas. After that, she paints another face over the face she eliminated. What does this represent? The female desire to disappear? The culture’s interest in vanishing her? Something else altogether? Kim is droning on about something or other while she smears on another layer of spackle. Before we can get a handle on her, she’s gone already.
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