One of my politically active, militant lesbian friends back in college told me that she could no longer listen to Miles Davis because he used to beat his wife, Cicely Tyson. I had just bought Miles Davis Kind of Blue and was listening to it nonstop. We had a long discussion about artists, their art and their lives. Could you enjoy the music without promoting the man?

Frank Lloyd Wright was an asshole. Does that make his art any less interesting? Incidentally, the man stole everything from the Japanese.

Though I wouldn’t put David Tang in the same category as Frank Lloyd Wright and Miles Davis, I would put him in the same category as Joan Crawford.

I love shopping at Shanghai Tang. What a great shop! The colors, the fabrics, the workmanship, I always find something I want when I enter. From picture frames to quilts, wallets to pillow cases, that store elevates the cheap shit you find in New York’s Chinatown to high art.

But every time I read an article about David Tang, or hear a story from someone in Hong Kong, or see him interviewed on television, I wince. My toes curl, my eyes roll and I feel guilty for ever having stepped inside his store. According to Wikipedia, he no longer owns controlling interest of Denver Carrington, I mean Shanghai Tang, but his name is over everything, like Calvin Klein underwear on gay asses in the 90s.

Is Tang a demanding professional or a douche bag diva? A savvy businessman or a small-dicked blowhard? All I know is that I’ve GOT to get that quilt I’ve had my eyes on since my partner and I moved to Hong Kong. God help me, I love that store’s wares. Prick or not, I’m shopping at Shanghai Tang.

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