1) Studio 54. The be-all and end-all of '70s glitz and hedonism. A crazy salad populated with the bad and the beautiful.
2) Mudd Club. The anti-54, this divey new wave hangout on a side street in downtown's then-wasteland bred skinny ties, attitude, and sheer brilliance.
3) Area. A gigantic '80s club that made its own rules, dedicating itself to art themes and frisky people.
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Well, for one glorious night anyway.
It was a party for voluptuous scene queen Dianne Brill's fashion line.
Designer Albert Crudo felt we should attend sporting giant balloons, and I agreed that that was the breast idea.
Ever hear an old song and get instantly transported to a particular place in the cobwebs of your mind, whether it be your first bar or the
restaurant your boyfriend dumped you at between courses?
Lord knows any oldie at all plucks MY personal strings and immediately conjures up a place and time, since I've been through so darned many of them through the years.
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God, how I miss the club kids--those late '80s/early '90s pleasure seekers who ran around night haunts dressed like plushies and working your nerves until entering a K-hole and standing still for four days.
I know what happened to SOME of these kids, of course: Michael Alig is in jail, James St. James works for World of Wonder, Desi Monster promotes parties, Jenny Talia works with a girls' organization, and Clara the Carefree Chicken and Lahoma are in publishing. (And not all of those people were on drugs, mind you. They just seemed like it.)
But where are the immortal...
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Michael Alig, the club kid leader who along with his pal Freeze gruesomely offed a young dealer named Angel Melendez in the mid '90s, will eventually come out of jail, which is why half of New York has double bolted its doors shut while the other half is prepping for the most debauched party of all time.
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The '80s were so fabulous, darlings. We would all drape ourselves around nightclub banquettes and photograph each other on a regular basis--and the photos would actually appear in real publications! The New York Daily News ran this huge picture of "the crowd" to accompany an article about the state of clubland at that moment, and in it there are some lovely stars and stars-to-be mixed in with the de rigueur annoyances and wannabes. It's a pretty fabulash trip back to a far more carefree time of fun and self promotion.
I'm the freak on the left of the top row, with the Afro, shades, and an implanted smirk. Next to me there's Cynthia Heimel and Stephen Saban, my cohorts in chronicling the zingy insanity of that period. And the bottom level starts on the left with Jenny Lumet (who went on to write Rachel Getting Married), then moves on to Anita Sarko (the DJ/writer who cameos in that film), and on the right, Lisa Edelstein, who now stars in the hit show House. Do I know how to pick 'em or what?
