Lilli Marlene you are the dream. My Marlene Deitrich evening at Bricktops was brilliantina! I really had a wonderful time and it was inspiring to see so many people dressed, dressed and then dressed. My clubnite certainly ups the anti when it comes to an evening on the town. Well its the conceptualist in me, that can never be fully contained. Richard Velasco let me wear this sequined gown he designed on the bias cut. Talk about form fitting, it was like I was sewn into it and propped on stage. Just like Marlene back in the day. Dick also let me borrow some Harry Winston jewels from his collection. I felt nervous with all that ice, like I needed a bodyguard or something. I hardly ever wear jewelry in or out of drag. Our special guest performer was Lola Tawdry the great great granddaughter of Marlene Deitrich who came all the way from Berlin to sing "Falling in Love Again" She looked spectacular and really wowed the crowd. The partygoers included The delicious Poubelle Twins, Michelle Carr of the Velvet Hammer, deathrock icon David J of Bauhaus, cute and cuddly Michael Kenny, the director of Klasky Cheapo’s Ruggratts Movie, Nora of the Centimeters with actor Romain Daris of the new Kate Hudson film Le Divorce, Mexican soap opera studkin and star of the sexy foreign offering "Lucia, Lucia"--- Kuno Becker who was part of gifted NYC writer Nicole Blackman posse , and a very chubby and sweet mannered Stephen Baldwin youngest member of the famous Baldwin clan who said that seeing Mr. Uncertain sing was better than the pizza pie he had eaten at Mulberry Street Pizzaria in Bev Hills earlier in the eve, he was with some interscope Records honcho’s who didn’t quite understand the 1920s goings on and felt just a wee bit out of their elementa. I have to give special props to Don and Augusta for creating the visual spendor of a proper Marlene installation with their gorgeous array of rare posters and memorabilla plus the giveaway feather boas, garter belts with Bricktop emblazened on them and post cards. Augusta even had the gorilla outfit from the Hot VooDoo/Blue Angel number. Yowzina!!!! It was just the perfect evening. My spies will give me a fuller account of who was there later in the week, so stay tuned to this blog for more detailas, ok?
Mr. Uncertain got so drunk at Bricky's that he had to sleep over at Lord Andrew of Gould's Harper Avenue compound. In the morning Lenny the young elder treated us both to a nice breaky at Hugo's. And Mr. Uncertain had heads spinning as he came into the eatery in his dandy attire.

Andrew of Gould and I took visiting dignitary Joel Gibb of Toronto’s hot new band The Hidden Cameras to Laguna Beach. We drove the long way down Pacific Coast Highway and stopped for eats in Huntington Beach. I forgot just how beachy HB is. Lots of hot young powerfully built surfer dudes. All that swimming in the ocean depths sure produces muscle bodies that glimmer in a way that gay gym rabbits just can’t reproduce. Being in HB also reminded me how out of the loop of the mainstream world I am. I have no affinity for the beach or the so-called "Southern California Lifestyle" of surf, sun and the like . . . I am truly a creature of my own construct. Andrew and Joel also looked out of place. Andrew is British and has the whitest, milkiest skin I’ve ever seen. Joel is almost as pale and was wearing cargo shorts, wallabees, a pink shirt and a thick blue madrigal tie. I adore Canucks. They are crazed perfection in a way Americans can't even contemplate.

Thank god it was an overcast day. I cannot stand being in the sun. Once we got to Laguna Beach proper I couldn’t remember how to find the gay beach. Leave it to me to not be able to connect with "The Gays" . I hardly ever go to the beach, and when I do go its maybe twice a year if that with my production designer friend Jose Montana and since I don’t drive I hardly pay attention to landmarks, and the gay beach in Laguna is a little off the beaten path. We wound up laying down in an area near The Boom Boom Room with all these blondine families. It was icky. We made one more attempt to find the gay beach and even asked directions as the porno room across the street from the Boom Boom and their adjoining sex motel, but still couldn’t find the homo sands. Just as well, we settled on a stretch of beach that was extremely private, with the only eye candy being a lanky morose life guard. We still had a good time and driving back we ate in "J" town at the Japa diner Sahiro and saw the most gorgeous boy eating alone. The kid was certainly a treat to behold. Because of traffic I missed going to see my former LA Weekly colleague Donnell Alexander read from his new book Ghetto Celebrity at Book Soup. I’ll have to catch him the next time.
Went to writer Lisa Teasley’s birthday dinner at her lush Laurel Canyon home. I love her Panama Haiti mom Vi and sister Laura who I turned into a performer by becoming "Mack Mama" at Spicy Beef Curtains. It was great seeing Ms. Kateri Butler and her man Brendan Mullen, and Henry Peck who Ron Athey and I hardly get a chance to hang out with anymore. Of course the conversation eventually turned to talk of James Frankenstone and Joseph Louise Brooks who is Henry’s ex. I guess Frankenstone is continuing his slide into the abyss. The poor boy. I remember when he was a gawky trendy teen from Arcadia just happy to be someplace. LA and the clubworld has totally destroyed him, along with a nasty Crystal Meth addiction. I’ve had my bone of contention with him over the years mainly because he’s so cheap and as a club promoter doesn’t like paying performers, but he’s paid for his sins against me, and others three times over so I really hold no anamosity towards him. But Joseph Brooks is another story. He’s an equally stingy club promoter when it comes to paying performers and that is a pet peeve of mine, but he’s been angry at me for a few years because I called him out in print about his cheap ways and youth culture vulturism. When he was the king of LA underground clubs the true visionary behind his kingdom was his lover Henry. Joseph does have good taste in music, and he is extremely good looking---I’ll graciously give him that, and now he has a wealthy boyfriend and lives a comfortable lifestyle, while i live hand-to-mouth. Joseph even grifted his way into becoming the artistic director(i use the word artistic lightly) at the Key Club on the Sunset Strip, that use to be Gazzarri’s. But he’s still holding a grudge against me because I think he feels that I had something to do with an article in Index Mag about him getting killed. I was an editor at Index, but I didn’t have that much power. Steve La Freniere wrote the piece and enjoyed his interview with Joseph. I didn’t even bad mouth him to Steve, which I could have easily done, but I felt it wasn’t my place. Steve even asked me if he should interview Joseph and I told him that he would make a good interviewee. But Joseph tried to get me kicked off of the bill opening up for Siouxie and the Banshees and even bad mouthed me to my record company. I’m on the same label as Siouxie. Well his mechanations backfired because it made Siouxie and Budgie like me even more and I actually went over quite well performing for their crowd. Joseph would hate it if he knew that I also got a publishing deal through Universal Music. But even though he bares nothing but ill will towards me and wants me to falter, I actually don’t wish him any harm. I’m sure his own Karma will do him in without me putting him on my Madame Mau list of people that I will eventually destroy. He's a bad egg but not that bad---just annoying.
One person who is certainly on my madame Mao list is Roberta who use to be the Operations Mgr at Outfest. She purposely tried to sabotage Platinum Oasis last year by getting an inferior sound system for the event when a top of the line system for the Conga Room had already been secured, she was angry that Ron blew up at her at a last minute meeting at Eat Well. I believe it was then that she decided to get even and try and ruin Platinum Oasis. So it may take me 30 years but Roberta will not survive my wrath. I’m also upset with Shari who allowed Roberta to have so much power in the first place. From the beginning i was wary about working with an organization like Outfest. They are just too L7.

Both years Ron and I did Platinum Oasis, aspects of the event were diminished by Roberta and Shari was the enabler. Of course Shari is completely unaware that she is guilty of major wrongdoing. I think that in her subconscience Shari’s ego was a bit bruised that the two Platinum Oasis’ became the Ron Athey and Vaginal Davis show. That is why this year she basically orchestrated the event, calling it Platinum Snapmeat. Which has to be the worst title i have ever heard, and making the thrust more Cyber Punk Lesbiana. I’m glad she took over the event, because now she knows just what it takes to do live art as opposed to programming movies. From all accounts told to me the Platinum Snapmeat was pretty mediocre, but so is Outfest, thats why its best that they stick to the status quo and Ron and I will go elsewhere where our talents and creative imput is better appreciated.
Oh in that same note: My assistant emailed me this letter from one disgruntled patron of Platinum Snapmeat:

Vag all I want to say is that you were sorely missed at this year's Platinum event. To put it mildly, it SUCKED GIANT DONKEY DICK (and not in a good way).

I don't think I'm alone when I say that it was on the buzz/word of mouth of the last two Platinum events that brought the crowds into this year's SnapMeat. We were lured into going by the naive notion that this year's event would keep in the Vag Davis/Ron Athy spirit. Alas, we were misguided.

2003 Platinum was an unmitigated disaster from beginning to end. The SnapMeat concept was utterly confusing; the verbose 2-page rule book was of no help (the 3 volunteers I questioned, couldn't explain it because they weren't quite sure themselves of what was going on). The entire event was poorly organized (they ran out of booze around 11:30 and refused to give booze ticket holders our money back!) And did I mentioned it was stupefying BORING??? People wandered around looking for something to do. Few danced due to the bad NRG WeHo crap circuit music. And for the most part the installations were flat, uninteresting and lacked originality. Unlike your past events, SnapMeat had virtually no interactive aspects. Worse of all, the entire event was devoid of the sexy energy you created two years running at the Coral Sands!!!!

Not surprisingly, me and my gaggle of gays couldn't get out of there faster. We weren't alone... as we exited the Ambassador, another large crowd of exiting attendees were warning incoming to save their money and not go in! (Side note: The Ambassador Hotel's history and/or legends played no part whatsoever in this event. SnapMeat as conceptualized and executed could have taken place in just about any Ralph's Supermarket parking lot. To tease us with this beguiling landmark and not use it was just plain cruel.) Pity, a lost opportunity.

Anywhoooooo, we're all hoping that you come back and take helm of this event next year. Thanks for all you've done!


Sincerely,

Ali R.


Remember a few days ago I mentioned that a gay activist in New York didn’t appreciate my essay on Gay Marriage that was part of the LA Weekly cover package. Well said activisist Jay Blotcher sent me a little emug to reiterate his concerns. I remit it for your discerning eye:

cherished vag

remember the childhood game called telephone -- where people would whisper a
message down the line?

when it got to the last person, we found out how mangled the original
message had become? and laughed and laughed?

well -- i wanted to respond to your blog item about me

granted, it came to you through our dear glenn belverio

but it lost oodles in the translation a la "telephone"

allow me to explain what needled me about your LA Weekly essay

you were invoking the name of genet to justify your stance against marriage

well - sheesh -- let's talk apples vs oranges, eh?

genet, like most staggering geniuses and sexual obsessives, was one of the
most selfish people on earth

he treated his grand black men like sexual totems. like picasso, his many
romances had very little to do with love or consistency or kindness

so - how could marriage even be on his wavelength? it went against all he
held dear (himself, for one)

the institution of marriage requires mutual respect and gentility and a
downsized ego to make it work

it would NEVER work for him nor for picasso nor for any other number of
renegades

not because they were above it -- but because they could not focus long
enough to care about another person deeply enough

(or because they were too interested in where their next piece of cock/pussy
was coming from)

you pointed out, as well, that marriage would not work for the peripatetic
vag and her voracious sexual appetite

well, sweetie-pie -- as you may not know: marriage is really not about
sex... nor monogamy, officially

marriage is an arrangement that can exist outside of a sexual vibe

or exist hand in hand with a lot of sex on the outside

but so few marriages maintain sex

in your essay, you belittle marriage as a bougie construct

but when you consider the legal benefits -- it is not something to dismiss
with a sneer

and when all is said and done, even if you accuse gay men of little
imagination if they want to marry -- why spit on the whole concept just to
pump your own self-worth? or labruce's?

i just thought your column was more glib than edifying -- more dismissive
than constructive

one can certainly argue that all licenses and legal matters should be
consigned to the dustheap

in fact, so did the Gay Liberation Front in NYC and LA in the 70s

but you know what? -- they self-destructed, alas

and what rose in their stead were gay groups aimed at working within the
system for inclusion

i will be the first to tell you hat i am dismayed by the capitalistic,
conservative bent of most (middle- and upper-middle) class gays these days

ugh - gays in the military. gay merchandising. gay moneymakers

but marriage is chiefly about love - and perhaps a measure of financial
security and certainly legal rights

it is simply too easy to sneer at it; the matter is far more compelling

thanks for hearing me out

jay blotcher
former activist queen
now happily ensconced in high falls, new york
with my husband, brook garrett
(officially married oct 2000 in VT)


Had a glorious dinner at Richard Velasco’s lovely compound on Hayworth Street in West Hollywood. Dick lives in a beautiful 20’s deco apartment that is beyond compare. I’ve known Mr. V. forever. He use to do the display production design for Fiorucci’s in Bev Hills and also Maxfield’s where he created his legend. He is also an incredible stylist, make-up, hair and costume designer. There is nothing he can’t do. We had a wonderful time reminiscing about 25 years of LA history. He even has a cute little dog named Moses. I’m going to have Dickie do some installations at Bricktop’s. the world needs to rediscover his genius.

what a week i've had. been somewhat irritable because of all the miami beach like humidity. i hope its not like this the whole summer. Little Jewban from Havana Javier Peres of Peres Projects gallery took me to din at Musso and Franks. We had a wonderful time, though the air conditioner in the bar area is weak. I was sweating up a storm. The only good thing about all the humidity is that its good for my skin. I'm looking quite lovely these days. Javier's gallery is really getting a lot of ink and is being talked about as one gallery the represents the hottest art boys. Its about time someone came along and infused some new young energy on the tepid art scene in LA. I'm going to see if the Arts Editor of the LA Weekly will write something about Peres Projects.
My drink from the Musso bar was a Manhattan. It was perfect. Our waiter was a bit of a grinch, but the food was delish in that comfort way i crave so often. Sitting across from us was ugly old Alan Alda and when we were in the bar sitting next to me on the next stools were the guys from that drab band Matchbox 22. There's always someone of note at Musso. The olde Hollywood guard go there and have been going there since 1919, but then all the new kids wanting hip credibility also make it a pitstop.
Bricktops Cole Porter Titty Sucking Extravaganza went over really well. A photographer from Los Angeles Magazine came by to snap everyone's pics and people were dressed really well. I love this fetish model girl named Pandora. She's adorable looking. Shauno Leoni set up a 20s boutique with her unique designs. She is very talented and is always dressed to the T's. That snooty actress Kate Beckinsale who was really good in that movie The Last Days of Disco came to Bricky's with members of her family and Chloe Sevigny. She was wearing a pretty beaded gown and was even dancing up a storm with Mr. Uncertain. But looking even sexier and pert was Audrey Tatou from Amelie fame. She didn't stay long. I guess the LA Magazine photographer scared her, but she did hear me sing, and i was in good form. I felt really pretty. Glen Meadmore did my face and Miss Morgan of Omaha Nebraska made me this gorgeous lavender dress with intricate baubbles in a layered pattern. I overwhelmed the crowd. Miss Morgan is one talented coutourier. She use to be a model, but is now a student at Otis Parsons. i gaurantee she is going places. Her beau is very handsome as well. I'd like to strip him naked.
I got so many compliments on my singing and outfit that now my head is mongoloid sized. Also hanging out at Bricky's checking the scene out were regular Bibbe Hansen and Sean Carrillo, Richard Velasco looking very dapper in his vintage summer suit, Mark Simon and his The Boyfriend/Leave it to Jane posse, Abbie Travis looking very Ziegfeld Follies and Charlie's Angels designer Michael Schmidt, humpy latino actor Freddy Rodriguez from Six Feet Under, boyish Devon Gummersall of My So Called Life and Joel Gibb of the super hot Toronto folk/queer band The Hidden Cameras. I thought he was going to want to perform, but he was out for some art shindig at the STandard and just came to chill. Joel is so cute and adorable, lanky and lovesexy. We hit it off immediately. After Bricktops Andrew and i took him to The Tom Kat Porno Cinema, which was really doing some brisk horndog business. I've never seen it like that. And it wasn't filled with just trolls. Really cute boys. I was the only girl in the place but it didn't put a damper on their lust. Several guys complimented me as the most beautiful woman they have ever seen. The mgr said that the old queen that use to own it is gone. Thats a good sign. Maybe Ron Athey and i will get to have a Spicy Beef Curtain event held there one day. We sat in the auditorium for a while on the semen covered seats and some guys started giving Joel and speed rush blow job. He started then stopped then ran off, then came back. So LA. Andrew was attacked in the bathroom by 20 inches of jubas jubilee cock. these two black stalions with hard muscle bodies put the heavy mack daddy make on him. I was exhausted and just wanted to go get some sleep so i finally coaxed the boys out. I still didn't wind up getting to bed until almost 5am after taking off my make-up. Maybe i ate my makeup.
The next morning Lenny and I took Joel to eat breaky at Hugo's. It was filled with so many Los Ang types. Gay pretty titties and tanning salon straight actorette couples. I'm glad Joel got to see and whiff it all in. Later Ron Athey came by with Crepe Suzette and we took Joel to the I Martin bike shop where i was getting my vintage Western Flier bike repaired. There is a cute humpy dork boy that works at the bike shop who is perfect for Suzette. She needs to get down on that one. We then went to Ron's Studio and hung out a bit, then had a Thai meal at Sampoon across from the Gauntlet II and drove to Chung King Road to see Javier's latest show at Peres Projects, but got there too late. He had vamoosed. Monday Andrew will take us to Laguna Beach. that should be fun.