The Photographer’s Notebook

Miss Saturn, in nefarious scarlet, at The Delancey

Date: Mon, 12 Dec 2005 13:21:59 -0500 (EST)
From: Linus
To: Pierre, Seth, M., Blind C.
Subject: Last Night

So I completed Day Two of my Three Days With Saturn shoot for New York Cool -
last night Jenny performed at The Delancey (which is a pretty cool place, I had
never been) as part of the Byte party, a fetish S&M-lite kind of thing.

I’ve been to one or two of these sorts of parties over the years, usually with
Chuck, and while I’m not interested in the sexuality of it the vibe is usually
pretty relaxed and fun. So I watched a lovely girl in a lacy angel outfit with
excellent feather wings chat with friends while a guy wearing leash and collar
licked her ankles until she got annoyed, and then she stood on him, sticking
the spike heels of her Scotty-style clear plastic platforms in his mouth and
making him lick the soles. He seemed pretty happy about it, and after she
ground her feet on his nipples for a bit — posing for beaming pictures all the
while — he scampered off into the corner and cowered with a big happy smile.

Two compact hot girls dressed as elves got elaborately tied up in the doorway
of the “dungeon” room, their wrists tied behind their heads and their upper
bodies bound in baroque complications; there were cameras everywhere, so I
demurely did not shoot any of the action. One huge guy, probably 6′4″ or
better, hugely muscled but going a bit soft, wore Marilyn Manson light
blue/white contacts, a leather thong, and nothing else. He had three-inch
black fingernails. A girl in leather halter top and fishnets enthusiastically
shredded her fishnets, bit by bit. Lots of spike hair, random leather. Very
laid back.

It was Mistress Harlequin’s birthday and there was cake promised for later, and
I’m sure the cake would have been an outrageous hoot, but it’s not like I know
who Mistress Harlequin is, or anything, so I left that part alone.

I got all inspired at home when I noted that Miss Persia at the door would pass
judgment on all patrons, and that if you came in or qualified as “leather,
latex, creative goths . cyberpunks. cyberdrags . material girls.
fashionistas… alternative sexiness…… and anyone who can leave their
inhibitions at home!” it was only $5, up to $7 if you at least wore all black,
and $10 if you came in “drab.” You know what lengths I’ll go to to save five
bucks, so I ransacked the closet.

I came up with my old faux-leather plastic pants (the PVC shirt fits a little
snug, it, uh, must have shrunk, so I left that aside), which are falling apart
but still hold together, a leather vest, and a black silk shirt. Miss Persia
asked me to open my jacket when I got there, surveyed the goods, and welcomed
me in at the insider price, which left me inordinately pleased.

Jenny and Selina were set to go on around 12:30, and they pretty much did. One
number each. The crowd seemed curious about the performance but didn’t get it
- Jenny did “Personal Jesus,” with a few new tricks on top, Selina did “Little
Red Corvette” — and if I hadn’t been there to whoop and holler I think they
wouldn’t have had much applause. People had a different agenda.

Since faux-leather plastic pants don’t count if no one sees them, I went up to
Rockwood for a final Chocolate Stout before heading home; Ken didn’t notice
my outfit so I had to point it out.

The pants don’t breathe, of course, but they are plenty warm.

Ciao - L.

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