She doesn't stand out in a crowd, yet she stands out. You can't stop looking at her; half of her wardrobe looks as though it should have been left in the Sal-vation Army bin where it was first discovered. Yet it was rescued by her and becomes a great discovery.

Who is she? Her name is Karling Abbeygate; a band of misfits and raggamuffins follow her wherever she goes. She proudly calls herself "white trash," as before she heard that term, she didn't know where she fit in. The trooper that she is, Abbeygate just says, "Cool, I'm white trash, nothing wrong with that."

This so-called band of misfits and raggamuffins are cool with their title and the roles they play in Abbeygates' life. They know they're different and Abbeygate loves them. Just the way they are. She's the Mother Teresa of weirdness. You want to believe in her, she becomes the excuse for your eccentricity. She says it's OK to be who you really want to be, go ahead and take off your khakis, and your turtle neck sweater, loosen up that tie or better yet hand it over to someone else to wear. Put on those glow-in-the-dark earrings, be the warrior you've always wanted to be in your Indian leather and jade, the love beads are still beautiful and so is that hand-crocheted poncho your mother knitted for you as a child, (if it still fits, that is).

The Karling Abbeygate band is a must see, an awesome act so original and outstanding that it simply stands alone. The production behind the scene is just as interesting as Abbeygate herself. Imagine Janis Joplin, Truman Capote, P.T. Barnum and Ripley (of Ripley's Believe It Or Not), Maya Angelou and Jerry Springer at Leona Helmsley's place for dinner. Who wouldn't pay good money to see that? This writer was lucky enough to get it all for free at a White Trash Records meeting with the Karling Abbeygate band. Everything from music to the size and shape of a breast is discussed so openly that a video of action in the room would be as good a best seller as anything Crumb ever did. They are full-blown Crumb '90s style, quirky, kinky, nasty, original and totally animated, full of unbelievable life and their own energy.

The overall attitude is why would I wear a Nike logo when my own name or no name at all looks just as good or bad. And why should we shop anywhere but the Salvation Army? There are plenty of TV sets at Abbeygates' place, although almost never turned on. Throw a tablecloth over one of them and you've got an end table. Hungry? Take a handful of beans and whatever vegetables you can find, put them in a pot to simmer, slice off a hunk of store bought bread, pull a milk crate up to the new end table; now, that's what they call a TV dinner.

Karling Abbeygate truly sucks, as only she could suck you up in her mystery and awe-inspiring magic; she's a witch of the highest order, casting her most intrinsic spell of all: Love yourself, love your magic, make it every day; see the beauty in every weirdo you meet, better yet spend a day acting like one.