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Another week has passed, with the July gloom that has plagued the city close at hand. While the skies where grey, the hearts of many seemed all fired up. The contrast was striking. All over town it seemed that folks where getting read to make a raucous, which is just how I like it! I shopped and shopped, looking tirelessly for weekend outfits, and even finding some fun looks. My love of cape sleeves overcame me as I sashayed my way toward the weekend.
Thursday night was quite a highlight, as Tiara Sensation dragged its make-up bag all the way from Polk Street to the Transfer. Party plotter extraordinaire Horse Face decided that it was in dragís best interest to stop dragging people all the way to Kimoís week after week, which I am definitely into! He hasnít yet decided to keep the party on Thursdays, or even at the Transfer, but it is a party to watch, and for that I am happy. Nothing is better than a little unexpected excitement.
Friday was marked by an unspeakable chill that kept many in doors, though I chose to venture out. I happened upon Twin Peaks, the beloved Glass Coffin at the Corner of Market and Castro, and settled into a dark corner with friends and champagne. It was mellow and relaxing, which was the perfect way to start off the weekend. I knew there was a lot in store, and I was obliged to soak in the history with the old queens lining the cushioned banquettes. This was after all the bar that brought gays into the light of day, and for that I will return time after time.
Saturday began with drama, and ended in the same fashion. Felicia Fellatio was out for blood in Union Square, boycotting the HRC benefit that was taking place across the street. It seems that the venerable HIV activist turned drag queen was not happy about the HRCís ENDA that didnít include rights for transsexuals, and threw a party that was more all inclusive. She drew quite a crowd, including three TV crews, several papers, and more attendants then the benefit itself.
The boycott took its momentum across Market Street to the Mezzanine, where Hercules and Love Affair was waiting in the wings to tear up the club. They shined onstage, and left the crowd in a pulsating frenzy. It was a marvelous evening, and a packed crowd of dynamic, pulsating club energy. It was so major that everything became a blur of heat, bodies, and energy pulsating through the club. What a perfect tribute to Honey Soundsystem on their first anniversary!
I was up all night shaking it to H&LA, but across town it was getting tore back as well. The Bay of Pigs party was kicking off Dore Alley, and the leather was thicker than the fog. It launched an amazing (if not bleek-weathered!) Dore Alley weekend that brought the luster of leather back to the city with a vengeance. Porn Stars laced the streets of Soma, as hardly a block could be passed that didnít expose some leather daddy, leathermen, or at least butched-out tee clad men. Nothing beats the tee-shirts at a leather faire, where Sadist Pig, Pig Bottom, and Slave read like Nike, Adidas, and Mossimo.
So while the crews where dancing the night away to Hercules and Love Affair, which big money independent weekly was bored, and getting ready to start the blog bash of the summer? Who was the IML 08 winner spotted canooldling at Dore, leading to a change on his relationship status on Facebook the following day? What was Heklina plotting for the final Trannyshack as a special surprise? And foremost, what where we all wearing? Fashion for days, mija, trust, but youíll need to surf the blogs for yourself. I saw it all and heard it twice, but will never break a pinkyswear to tell you.