Feeling the itch to try something new this past Sunday night, I excitedly decided to head to Manhattan along with Isis Vermouth to check out Ladyfag’s new party, Surprise!, at Gunbar at 55 Gansevoort. Arriving shortly after one, I realized I hadn’t stepped foot in this building for almost a year since Tommy Hottpants had a gig here and was thrilled to see what was new with the place. Paying the $5 cover, we headed inside to the dark, dank dungeon of a party house.
Taking a quick peek around proved that nothing had really changed except for the fact that the drinks got more expensive ($10-13 a pop). Our DJs that evening were Nita Aviance and Jools Palmer who did quite the job in distracting me from just how lacking the event was. Normally flocking to a new event where I barely know anyone, I discovered that Surprise! was just more rehashed NYC nightlife and not even in a new location to boot. The creativity and originality of the party was lacking entirely.
The crowd did pay off though as guys and girls (straight and gay) mingled on the dance floor and we even had the chance to run into Milan who is always such a sweetheart when talking to anyone. Would I visit again? Sure, just kick it up a notch or two… or ten.
If you live in a bath house and don’t travel out too often, you may not realize we are going head on into upcoming elections which means we are already seeing the political shit show that is our federal government and candidates pitting groups against each other to get votes. The gays seem to be the number one (if not, we’re definitely high up there) foe to America these days along with President Obama’s health care law according to the right wing nut job Republicans and Bible thumping lunatics. All of the other bullshit aside, one case in particular is pretty hilarious when it comes to a group putting itself in a corner with little friends to aid it.
While visiting a friend recently at Barneys on Madison Ave, I couldn’t help but take a quick peek at their new 5th Floor Shoe Department. How couldn’t I as the windows outside are plastered in large signs declaring I had to “find the perfect pair” of new shoes. Sure, I don’t have $600 to blow in this economy on a delicious set of brand spankin’ new designer leather loafers but window shopping is normally what I do best.
For starters, the new department is given a nice welcoming feel with light wood walls with tons of glass to make sure your eyes catch everything; from what’s in front of you to “Oh, shit. What’s that in the corner?” Cruising the dozens and dozens of high-end designers, three caught my eye for better or worse. Here they are…
The Sloane is one hell of an eye catcher as it screams subtle yet sparkles like a son of a bitch. I’m attracted to shiny objects like an infant so what can I say? Its materials are listed as coarse glitter with leather sole. “Gimme!”
McQueen’s embroidered skull loafer is a true favorite of mine and I kept coming back to it as I insanely pondered whether I should pay the rent or buy these and live on the street. Well, if I did fall for it at least I’d be fashionable while walking the streets. Care to join me for a martini on my park bench-bed?
By now anyone who knows anything about me can tell you I’m a tacky bitch most of the time but for the life of me I don’t think I could ever stand wearing a pair of these odd looking leather numbers by Prada for the Fall 2012 season. I couldn’t even find a proper picture to display just how strange the sole looks. It jets out obnoxiously thick on the sides and is definitely a “look but not a look I would do.”
It’s a story any smoker can relate to here in the city. There you are walking along the street minding your own business when all of a sudden someone approaches you and asks the dreaded question. “Hey, man. You got a cigarette I can bum off ya?” My usual answer was yes (prior to the exorbitant price increase) because I’ve been there before and know what it’s like to be jonesing for a hit of nicotine. My attitude has since changed upon moving here full-time as I can no longer afford the handouts which ultimately leave me feeling empty inside along with my pack of cigarettes.
Of all the feel good and over the top musicals there are on Broadway and beyond, here or in any city, there are few that catch my attention at all. I’m no Broadway queen and doubt I ever will be but to convince me to actually sit through a whole musical is something in and of itself. Being only a partial stereotype, I tend to be the sickie who would instantly flock to any potential big time flop or small time train wreck. This explains why I decided to jump on the bandwagon and head to The New York Musical Theatre Festival’s week long run of Stuart Gordon’s Re-Animator: The Musical.