Grey skies, damp fog, chilly air, sniffles - all the elements came together this weekend to finally kick my hibernating instinct into gear. As the days grow shorter so too does my attention to the outside world, especially now that the boyfriend and I have the comfy apartment with the fireplace and enough room to entertain a few friends of our own with low-cost televisual entertainments.
We did make it out on Friday night to a couple birthday parties (again, what's with all the Scorpios around here?), one for Comfort and Joy impressario Kitten Calfee, the other for DJ Donimo at Heat. Kitten's party was jam-packed with burners, trannies, and alternaqueers, and after noticing that a significant percentage of the guys (and a few of the women) were sporting mohawks, I almost decided that I need to find myself a less-common coif. I spotted Juanita Fajita on her way to Raya Light's step-down party (where Juanita's performance included the consuption of a "beef liver" fashioned out of raspberry and blueberry jello) and watched a strip-tease in the living room, but the boyfriend and I left before everyone's clothes started coming off.
Heat was again a fun night of dancing, though it would have been nice to have had a few more people on the dancefloor with us. There were some great interpretations of 80s New York Studio 54 style, and performances of Grace Jones and Donna Summer that were nicely integrated into the DJ sets themselves. I spotted a photographer for a club glossy in the crowd and he certainly got some good snaps for the "seen out and about" section. His presence made me think about how few events there are in SF, a place filled with people who are into costumes and fine millinery, where there's really incentive to put on your fine flashy threads and strut around. I hope more people will get into Heat as a fun fashion scene at the December installment -it's even got me re-considering what I should do about my clubbing wardrobe.
And then, after Friday, we just pooped out. I heard that the Miss Trannyshack pageant at the Gift Center on Saturday night was actually kind of a bore - it got started almost an a hour and a half late and at 1.30 the final act had just performed. As my source told me, it was bunch of performances that had two elements out of five right - as we later decided, once you take the "shack" out of "trannyshack," it begins to lose its edge and just becomes another San Francisco institution with big wigs, like Beach Blanket Babylon. My big disappointment, though, was not making it to French Kiss at Pink on Sunday evening to hear JD Samson of Le Tigre - I had really been looking forward to a Sunday evening of drinks and electro, but the boyfriend and I spent the whole afternoon with our friend J shooting corny Christmas pix to send to our families, and by the time we had taken him out to dinner for his help, and settled down to the chores we needed to get done, I found it much more attractive to finish up a mission in Medal of Honor: Airborne and go to bed with some Nyquil for my cold than to rouse up the energy to go out. And that's how lame *I* was this weekend; how about you?