Oh, Miami, oh South Beach.
Now back in New York, awaiting the snow. Still thinking of White
Party, that weeklong bacchanal. What's more fun than sneaking away
from Manhattan's ambition and playing with the boys?
We did the whole thing; we ran the marathon from the VIP at the
Delano right through to Victor at Crobar. Our third White Party
week, our first VIP White Knights party -- and it was a fun kick-off
at the Delano with Bambi La Fleur singing jazzy cabaret stuff and
the Dolce & Gabbana boys parading their wares -- and canapes on the
lawn and open bar. Welcome to South Beach.
Then China Grill with Alyson, and it was worth a walk in, just to
see, but really, no, this party wasn't kicking it the way it might
have. And then, Turkey Day with Roland at Billboard, but the
upstairs was closed and so was the outdoors, presumably to make the
place seem more crowded, but Roland was having fun. (When doesn't
he?) And then Friday's Pool Party with Keana, but 1500 Ocean Drive
was shadowing the pool, so the sun was in hiding. At least there was
fresh papaya on tables scattered around the Royal Palm -- and
floatable toys, perfect for stealing for hostess gifts and bathtubs.
An aside: the whole week was about swag. So many goodie bags and
stuff and our baggage was crammed with cologne samples and creams
and necklaces and chains and t-shirts and condoms and lotions and
CDs and toys and handcuffs...
Finally, on Friday night, the week really kicks into gear. Too bad
about the cold front -- but on the dance floor at the Seaquarium,
you didn't feel anything but heat. And then, every so often, a
breeze wafting over your head. So it was like: warm at the groin,
and cool at the head. And Tracy had that galloping thing going and
the boys were following her lead, and there were white fox coats and
beaver coats and stoles and shrugs and they would brush by you and
you'd ruffle the fur and feel warm.
And unlike last year's Seaquarium, we didn't witness any alarming
fall-outs, which, last year, freaked us out so much, and leaving at
four a.m. this year, we buzzed by the MedEvent tent -- and there was
only one occupied chair. So maybe the message is out: we're smarter
than we look.
Then Saturday's Muscle Beach which was the best beach party of the
White Party weeks we've attended. Fabric palm trees and scrims of
painted torsos and quads and body beautiful. And David Knapp at the
helm and the boys responding and even the tourists lining the
lifeguard stations grooving to his beats.
From there to Rize/Maze which was, predictably, packed by the time
we got there at one-thirty with our entourage who seemed positively
lackadaisical about the whole evening -- until we walked in and the
energy took them over. Dancing boys, but alas, no show.
And this was the recurring question for us all week: Where's Kitty
and Power and Abel?
And the answer: the three of them appearing at Space on Monday morn
at three a.m. until.
Which was not a CareResource-sanctioned event, and so, we could only
surmise that something was amiss between the powers that be and our
favorite divas and local deejay.
The dirt? Please reveal. As much fun as the week was, the presences
of Kitty and Power and Abel were SORELY missed.
Please: BRING ALL THREE OF THEM BACK. Make sure they are all three
at WINTERPARTY. South Beach needs their energy.
Okay, back to our report.
Sunday at Vizcaya. This was our third time at Vizcaya. This time
without my mother (who fell into a k-hole last year, but I
digress....). So without having to chaperone, we were free to wander
and mingle and photo-op. Just when you think you've become jaded
about parties, along comes Vizcaya. A movie in real life. Your life
as the great Gatsby. A trip back in time. There's nothing else like
wandering these grounds with everyone dressed as their inner angel.
Bad angels dropped to earth for a cocktail party. What to do but
marvel at the breadth of imagination when people are given scissors
and materials to create their own angel outfits? Photos capture but
a portion of this event. It's a testament to human creativity.
And finally -- whew, we made it, again, at last -- Victor at Crobar.
Packed, big surprise. He's on, big surprise. The boys love him, big
surprise. The club is nonpareil, big surprise. And it's still
amazingly fun and incredible and impossible to leave because what is
not to love about moving to Victor's beats in a setting like this
with so many beautiful people intent on catching his rhythms and
We had to rest on Monday. We had to leave it at that. We had to walk
out of Victor's at four a.m. and eat at Jerry's and start our return
But running away to the Miami Circus -- there's never anything like
it for us.
Thanks to all who made it so much fun, participants and organizers.