What could be better tonic in this summer of our national discontent than TriArts’ revival of “Hairspray,” that bouncy, happy musical extolling all-American values: resilience, determination, fair play and victory for the underdog? When chunky Tracy Turnblad bounds about the stage exuding optimism, she’s like a cheerleader for the America we miss. Like a chubby tank with something resembling a lacquered animal on her head, Turnblad lives in a mini world that centers on the Corny Collins TV Show, which allows teenagers to dance on camera and maybe even win the Ultra-Clutch Hairspray Company’s annual Miss Teenage Hairspray Contest. Tracy, regularly forced into detention hall by an unsympathetic principal, rushes home daily to watch the show and dream of becoming a regular. But if the play resembles “Grease” and “Fame,” it is wittier, funnier, better natured; and — without pretension — it is more socially and morally aware. It is also unashamedly sentimental, like a greeting card that makes you remember good times. The play, with book by Mark O’Donnell and Thomas Meehan, is a paean to being different, whether fat — like Tracy and her bloated mother, Edna — or black, like Motormouth Maybelle, her son Seaweed and his friends in segregated Baltimore. So Tracy’s goal isn’t only to get on the Collins show and beat her Barbie-doll schoolmate, the plasticized Amber, for the Miss Hairspray crown, but to integrate the Collins show beyond its one Negro Day each year. To do both, she will have to best the show’s producer, Amber’s ruthless, ambitious, bigoted stage mother, Velma. Given Amber’s comic book meanness and Velma’s spiritual void, we know from the beginning Tracy will succeed. But we don’t know that Tracy’s efforts will change Edna, who, embarrassed by her weight, never leaves their apartment; Link, the singing and dancing heartthrob on the Collins show who mesmerizes Tracy; or Motormouth and the black kids who loiter in her music store. Surprisingly, the show spoofs itself with a witty script and sophisticated jokes: As whites invade Motormouth’s music store, a black kid declares, “If we get any more, it’ll be a suburb.” And when Tracy wonders what comes after detention hall, another inmate declares, “Congress.” The music is based on 1960s rock and doo-wop. Songs spring directly from the story and are mostly very good, even memorable. (You’ll likely sing snippets of “Good Morning, Baltimore” for days.) TriArts has cast “Hairspray” from strength. Katie Sarno’s Tracy is an endearing dynamo with a big voice and great timing. Al Bundonis, in the drag role of Edna — memorably played on Broadway by gravel-voiced Harvey Fierstein and in the movie by John Travolta — builds from perhaps too much restraint in the first act to more in-your-face, over-the-top acting in the second. And he’s dynamite in the finale. As Link, handsome Michael Schultz boasts a mile-wide smile and a good Elvis imitation. Amy Leblanc’s Velma is the quintessential stage mother remembering her own brush with fame as “Miss Baltimore Crabs.” Kara Dombroski’s Amber is all shrill laughter and maliciousness, while Kaitlyn Frank’s Penny Pingleton blossoms from malapropisms and thick glasses into a femme fatale in a tight red dress. Jo’Lisa Jones gives Motormouth (who frequently talks in rhymed couplets) dignity and a big voice. Stephen Wormley’s Seaweed is a long, tall stalk of energy, the best dancer on the stage. And TriArts’ favorite, Michael Britt, is Wilbur Turnblad, the perfect short and charming foil for Bundonis’s big Edna; their duet is a show-stopper. Sarah Combs’s direction is a puzzle: While she mostly moves her large cast well, there are times when the show goes flaccid. The same is true for Cindi Parise’s choreography, usually energetic and tight, occasionally loosey-goosey. Erik Diaz has designed a set that recalls “Ed Sullivan Show” and “American Bandstand” backgrounds. Costumes by Lindsay R. Forde are right-on nostalgic. And the superb Lee Harris gives the musical direction verve and an authentic sound. “Hairspray” runs at TriArts’ Sharon Playhouse through Aug. 21. Call 860 364-7469 or go to www.triarts.net for tickets.
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Greg Fricke and James Boehmer, co-owners of Peggy Mercury in Kent, recently launched their first fashion line, “Imaginary Concerts.”
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Fricke and Boehmer are not there to stock their shelves with the same products customers find at standard makeup retailers. They’re there to help customers find what works for them. That usually means asking customers about themselves and learning about their beauty habits, skin, style and the way they like to present themselves. Fricke and Boehmer believe it’s their job to help customers bring out the qualities that suit them and determine what works best for their look.
So much of the Peggy Mercury world is about emboldening people to become more creative, and possibly bolder, versions of themselves. Some of this comes through the store’s creative collaborations with artists, designers and stylists.
It’s part of an ethos that encourages them and their friends to use the shop as a kind of laboratory, trying out new creative experiments without knowing how they might turn out. Whether in fashion, painting, fiber arts or photography, the projects almost always turn out marvelously.
A line of sterling silver charms they sell started as a small project by their friend Nolan Percival. In the beginning, the pieces were for close friends and loved ones. But Boehmer and Fricke encouraged Percival to get a little more serious about the project and create a whole line for the store. Today, it’s one of their top-selling collections.
Classic styles, bold colors, and creative concerts make up the “Imaginary Concerts” line at Peggy Mercury.Provided
“Imaginary Concerts” has the duo taking their own advice.
The project started as a way for Boehmer to connect with his mother, who had been diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease. Taking old concert shirts from his own collection, Boehmer and his mother began cutting out the graphics with the idea that they would make a quilt together. Unfortunately, she died before they could complete the project in 2025. The pieces, which were ready for production, were put on the back burner as Boehmer and Fricke dealt with their loss and the whirlwind of projects that never seemed to cease at Peggy Mercury.
But the harsh winter of 2026 presented an opportunity to take some time and focus on themselves. Part of that meant revisiting and redefining the concert T-shirt project. This time, instead of looking to the warmth and comfort of a quilt, they turned to another passion — fashion.
Taking a page from their own book, they wanted to create something that felt comfortable to them. They took two disparate loves — one rooted in simple preppy style, with clean lines and classic silhouettes, and the other in the nitty gritty worlds of punk rock and pop — and blended them together to create something entirely new. Pulling from the staples of vintage Brooks Brothers and Charvet collections, they applied the graphic elements with bold stitching reminiscent of punk jackets of the ‘70s and ‘80s, but with a much more sophisticated air.
But the remixing isn’t just the pairing of prep and punk. The pieces are not canon. They take liberties with the realities of concert tours, combining one band’s dates with another band’s logos, mixing them all up until the reality is lost and imagination is the only truth.
Shirts from Peggy Mercury’s first fashion line, “Imaginary Concerts,” hang on display.Provided
Adding to the mix is an element of perpetual creativity. Art can be messy, both figuratively and literally, and many of Fricke and Boehmer’s artist friends carry evidence of their work on them at all times. As a nod to these tireless creatives, the duo added haphazard splashes of bright color, giving the line an even more distinctive feel.
For them, “Imaginary Concerts” passes the “Peggy Test.” The mythical Peggy Mercury is a fictional figurehead for the company, a character who thrives on creativity and change. The name, much like the clothing line, is a mixture of interests: Mercury is a planet, a deity and an elusive, transformative element, while Peggy is the wonderfully stylish and boundary-pushing Peggy Guggenheim.
Everything Fricke and Boehmer put in their store has to pass this test: Would Peggy Mercury approve? For their first collection, the answer is a resounding yes.
Peggy Mercury is at 9 Maple St., Unit 2, Kent.
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