The good ole days

This is an ancient email but after watching a Nelson Sullivan video from 1985 I thought this would be a fun post.
It may not be as historical as his videos but I find it amusing all the same.
Circa 2002


* Long and Gossipy Email * print and read on the John or at lunch break

Well, I think for me, the swan has flown over Fashion Group International.
Am I jaded?
Im I bored?
Did I just not stay long enough?

The dazzle was not there this year, but the names certainly were:

Sarah Jessica Parker- practically wheeled in the back entrance about to POP from pregnancy. But still in Blahnik stilettos and flat ironed hair.

P. Diddy, I never saw him- but I heard the rush when he arrived- I think I had already anchored myself to the Makers Mark Bar.

Pierre Cardin- Old as Methusla, and with a hot young woman. Still had the sparkle.

Anna Wintour- in Drop Dead Dior - blod red velvet with a HUGE white fox stole. Very Glamour, Opps Vogue.

Manolo Blahnik- hair as white as white can be and a TOTAL gentleman.

Andre Leon Talley- his emerald broach sent me soaring, but his attitude passed me by.

Elsa Klench- stalwart Elsa- always a true lady

Speaking of Lady- Lady Bunny DJ'ed and had the best gown of them all- diamond halter blue paisley ball gown with HUGE hair.

Roberto Cavalli- with Carol Alt- isnt this a repeat of last year?

Janice Combs- wig, glasses and lots a ass.

Diane Von Fursteneberg with Barry Diller- she and Anna are tied at looking just like a Q-tip. Huge fur wrap and pencil thin satin black and white gown. VERY top heavy like Anna, but she wins for parlaying with the photo pit in Italian.

And my favorite of the night - Billy Zane!!!

He is my favorite, not just because he is a great actor and so so suave, but he was wearing a chic chapeau in sky blue and using it for all it was worth. Well after cocktails he vamoosed and while descending the stair case he put his hand on my shoulder and said " Wow- great hat!"
Damn if my tounge fell out of my mouth and I couldn't say Rod Keenan before he had sashayed down 42nd St!

So now the event begins and where do I head but to Bunny's corner. Who else am I going to talk to who will be quite yet so entertaining? She looks up and says- Have you ever seen so many old farts? Oh wait, I see one every morning when looking into the mirror....

We talked about how dried up the whole club scene is and how she is writing more songs than Dolly Parton these days. I played the -where in the world is Lady Kier game- with her and she was excited to tell me she was with Kier in London for 2 weeks recording tracks. George Clinton came by the studio and loved one of Bunnys songs and sang it himself! So heres to a revival in House and Funk!

My job is done and I cant stay for the whole event because my darling friend Victoria has just come in town from Italy to see me and she was laid up on some couch somewhere waiting for me to take her to 202 West 122.

I left and began my search for a goodie bag. Well, the whole lot of La Force and Stevens PR gals ransacked the bag room and ran out. I thought-Oh - ill do that too! Well Im not 5 feet away when some man of no importance comes up and LOCKS the door!

Well I walk right up to the man in charge and say- I need a gift bag! He says- Are you a guest or Volunteer?
Well I am a guest of course! (Just look at this coat and hat!)
Well why Sir are you wearing an ALL ACCESS PASS?

Balderdash! Foiled again.

I continue my walk of shame out the front door and what do I see out of the corner of my eye but Anna Wintour looking around for the bathroom. But before I can do my third Potty Apperance for her- she finds it and slithers under the door.

Alas- a night like a bad date. Lots of work and running your mouth and no gift to go home with.

But fear not kids- just when you thought the gossip grind had halted. I have received a invitation to Heidi Klumes infamous Halloween Bash at Capitale next Thursday. The invite is a mask- so lets just see if I can give www.hintmag.com's chic happens column- a run for their money.

xoxocator

Observed

This morning I got an email that I am gracing the pages of the New York Observer.

The picture is of me and Lauren Davis at the Museum shin dig on Monday.
I think it just might be the queeniest picture of me ever. It doesnt help that the quote is 'Cator Sparks and Lauren Davis camp it up'.

All those perfectly poised twirls and dips and the one picture they use is the one where I look like a coked up cazoo. Of course Lauren looks refined and elegant and gay. She has too much experience in the papers to dance like a wild woman.

Now I know why all the socialites have the same poses when they dance, because those poses are fool proof. That perfect one arm in the air, the other jazzily snapping with eyes turned to the floor all pulled together with a subtle smile. The image makes one think she is in her own little world, feeling the beat of the music while recalling last nights romantic interlude.

Not only did the image in the paper make my heart skip a beat but the fact that someone at the Observer had time to google me and find this blog really cured my hangover (well almost). Now if I had known they would be publishing my work I certainly would of given kudos to Rod Keenan for the 'spring straw hat', but everyone I imagined who would be reading this knows I only wear Rod's hats.

Note to self: Learn how to dance like a socialite and write the way you dress- always assuming you will be in the press.

A socialite swirl

Last night my troublesome friend Justin Giunta invited me to a gala at the Museum of the City of New York.
Hosted by Nina Ricci and about 4000 socialites we knew we would be the odd balls out.
Sure enough we arrive at the shin dig and there are the painted ladies swooping out of their black cars in floor length chiffon gowns bedazzled in Maharani worthy baubles.
Sure are glad we got dropped off in our yelow cab around the corner.

We may not be Park Avenue prisses but we know how to dress for such functions.
I wore a camel Westwood suit and a spring straw hat I have 'borrowed' from Rod's collection.
Justin was decked out in dark trousers and jacket with a lariat type necklace of bronze olive branches and massive green chandelier crystals. Very Rome meets Venice.

Since we were some of the youngest boys there and we were both wearing hats (note to reader: if you want press always wear a hat. If there is more than one person in your group wearing a hat it's a press blitz!) the press went wild. Patrick McMullen, Wire Image, Bill Cunningham all snapped away.

We had gorged on Pop champagne in the cab up from Mary's book signing so we were eager to continue with libations. One of the yummy staff approached us with 'Mintini's' a mint julep type drink but not nearly as sweet. It was heaven. Then another hot staffer swooped down on us (another note to reader: when you go to such high glam parties, and you are under 30, the staff totally relates to you since you are in the same age bracket, therefore you get the first round of drinks and nibbles always, but dont talk to much with them, you may be thought of as a friend of the help and that can cause trouble) with caviar on EDIBLE spoons and vodka shots. We were in heaven.

Oh hey, I havent to ld you why we are here. Oh wait, I have no idea. I assume it was a benefit for the Museum. The theme was three graces, whatever that means and the attire was: Pure beauty, no ties. What?

We take a quick tour of the muesum and see some great galleries of images of New York then and now. We also tour the reconstructed rooms from the guilded age which are quite a treat.

Now it is time to socialize. Ivanka Trump keeps peeping over at us but doesnt say much. We got a smirk later in the evening.
Amy Fine Collins was looking like a rare bird as usual. Then on the dancing terrace we see three amazingly beautiful girls in pastels gowns all holding some serious court. Justin bursts out, "Oh my God its Lauren Davis! My favorite client!"
We stroll through and say hello and she introduces us to her two friends, Tinsley Mortimer and Fanjul (?). The party had started. Tinsley had just walked in Heatherettes runway show last Friday and carried it off like the lady she is. Lauren was muse at J Mendel and has now decamped to Carolina Herrera. I never found out what Fanjul did but she could cut a mean rug.

We were having so much fun Lauren said, "Can I borrow your phone? I promised my husband I would be home by 9:30 but I am having just too good of a time." So she borrowed, called, clicked END and said, "Ok kids, lets dance!"
All at once the three girls jumped to their feet and we lead them to the dance floor for PYT. I dont think these girls knew what they were getting into with Justin and Cator.
We swung, dipped, twirled and clapped until every photogrpaher at the event was around us snapping to their hearts content.
At one point one of the photographers (who was super cute, and yes talk to them all you want because once they remember you they always snap away) was so excited about the moment that I took his camera away from him so I could get a group shot of all the girls canoodlign with him. After what seemed like an eternity on the dance floor the girls stopped and said, "Oh my God! You two are the best walkers in town! We are inviting you to everything!" Justin and I couldnt hand our cards out fast enough.

Afterwards we chilled on our evenings ottoman and a cute blond approached me in a Pucci dress. "Were you just on a cruise in the Baltics?"
"Yes!" I cry, "Why didn't we hang out?"
"I dont know but I loved your hats everyday. What do you do in NYC?"
"I am a writer, and you?"
"Oh I dont do anything! ha ha ha!"
At this point I about have champgane exiting my nose. I love Socialite candor.
I give her my card and she promises to call since she doesnt have a card because she doesnt do anything.
We dance with her friend from Kate Spade until the DJ leaves us hanging at 10:15.
We protest but he is nowhere to be found.

So Justin and I call it quits. We give kisses to our swans and Lauren decides she must have Justins necklace. He takes it off and drapes it around her delicate neck. She winks and whispers, "Checks in the mail." Then we leave, just a little lighter in our loafers.

This morning in my inbox was an email from Tinsley with an invitation to an event downtown with a 'Hope you can make it! xoxox Tinsley" attached.
Lets the games begin!

Daddy's money

Last week I left my teeny tiny phone at my friend Soraya's jewelry studio in Soho.
By the time I realized it was gone I was cackling to myself when I saw some poor girl drop her phone in front of Bloomingdales and watch it explode.

As I reach in my bag to hold my security blanket I dont feel its presence.
I break out into a cold sweat, run to the nearest pay phone and call Soraya.
She said it is there and to come by and pick it up in the next two hours.

After a Martini with Barge at Barneys we head down to pick it up.
When we get there I grab it and rapidly check for messages (I hate being that person but I am) and then I can relax.

Soraya speaks up and says, " I hope you dont mind but my partner and I were looking through your phone and we couldnt believe what we found!"

Oh no- she has seen all those dirty texts from Jorgen.

"We were scrolling through your numbers,"she continues, "and we found Daddys Money. We got so jealous! Wow! I cant imagine being so rich that you can just pick up your phone and call your dad's bank! I mean that is really rich! You are crazy!"

"Soraya, darling, that is the name of my moms boutique in Gainseville, Georgia." I laugh.

"Oh, so your not that rich?" she protests.

"No babe, sorry,if I was I would buy alot more of your jewelry."

And with that I leave and giggle to myself. Oh the conclusions people come to!

Wigstock 2005

There aren't many occassions these days that still give me goose bumps. I would never say I am a jaded New Yorker but I have seen alot at the ripe ole age of 29. I do declare that it may sound odd that seeing the Taj Mahal and seeing a bunch of Drag Queens on stage gets me equally twitterpated.

I used to hear about Wigstock in Atlanta and read about it in underground magazines like Popcorn and Project X, so to attend the event was something I looked forward to once I moved to the city. Of course it is not nearly as good as it used to be, one of those relics of 'the good old days', but it is still equal amounts hoot and holler.

For the past several years the event has been held during the HOWL festival in Thompkins Square Park. What was once a 6 hour event of performers and dance routines has been whittled away to a two hour non stop drag revue. And this is a good thing. The first Wigstock I attended (although I was a devoute attendee at Wigwood in Atlanta for many years) was held on a pier on the Westside Highway and was jammed with thousands of crazies, 5 port-o-potties and neary a chair to rest your heels in. There were tele-trons, broadway worthy acts and lots and lots of heat stroke trannies passed out in a wig clutching a Budweiser. Not a pretty site.

It got too big for even Lady Bunny to handle so she called the whole thing off for several years until HOWL offered her their stage for a two hour spot. P for Perfect. The only thing is, not nearly as many people dress up for the occassion. Why? God knows. What other reason does one have to done a wig, makeup and heels and prance around NYC during the day and not think twice about it? And don't say Halloween silly because thats at night.

Anyways, this Wigstock I went with Sue Saas and she strapped on a tiny top hat and I yanked on a shaggy man wig and gave myself a glitter fade across my face and we headed downtown to the park. Once we got there there was an energy in the air that only happens at Wigstock. Everyone is out and about and rubber necking is modus operandus for the day.
The sun was shining, there was a slight breeze and as we approached the park we could see a sea of heads sporting everything from beehives, tinsel and even massive chinese takeaway boxes. Paradise.

This was a special Wigstock because this year they were celebrating the 20th anniversary. Bunny had quite a line up in store for us including Jimmy James, Sade Pendavis, Jackie 60 and Kate Pierson. Kate cancelled and we were really let down. Who wouldnt want to see a B-52 back on stage? I was most looking forward to the performance of Lady Kier. She hasn't performed in nearly 10 years and she was ready to rock.

Bunny dazzled us even though she had a broken toe. She had to break down and sport some Sketchers instead of her usual lucite mules. Her costumes were still be-dazzling though, starting off with a 'Pigs in Space' number followed by several moose knuckle skimming caftans and ending with a floor length number and a wig I can only describe as an Atomic Hair Bomb.

Sue and I took in every act, taking time out to scout the crowd of young kids with their hippie parents and little old black ladies wide eyed and full of razor tounged comments. There were even politicians theres shaking hand with every sort of person to win the gay vote. Whatever it takes kids! We raced back in time for Lady Kier's numbers, one reggatone like and very political, the other disco down as she was accompanied by a male stripper. My girls still got it! And her look was nothing short of sizzling: black corset with a skirt of tulle piped in hot pink with a matching pill box hat with more tule and piping standing erect on the back like a cockatoo ready to shake a tail feather.

After the show I walked over to the back stage area where every year I have mingled with RuPaul and Boy George. This year my ego was bruised as I got a stern NO from the security guards who were only letting performers and press back stage. Ouch! Guess I should of gotten totally gussied up. I turn to walk the walk of shame and see Kier getting interviewed for Logo. I wait for her for a minute and the longer I wait the more people notice her. I felt like I was back at a rave in 1994 with everybody screaming her name and primping hoping to get a picture with her. When she is done and begins walking over the cameras go wild, the fans start screaming and I head out. I am so excited for her that the fan base is still huge and I was glad to see her basking in her glory.

After chilling out at a luscious BBQ at Tali's I head to the Slide and meet Kier, Charlie and Justin and we get the party started. Kier is still in costume but her corset is let out 5 inches so she can really get down. We tear up the town that night heading to Taboo!'s performance then the Boy's Room and finally the Roxy where we realize we really didnt want to be.
The night ends at Kier's apartment with her in her nightgown and three boys and one deconstructed Drag Queen laying on her guest bed giggling and reliving the night bit by bit.

Once I pass out at 530am I am still riding on cloud 9 minus a wig but still glitter encrusted.
Kier darling, I owe you a new pillow case.

For more wigworm madness click on www.ladybunny.net