Happy St. Pat's Day...to get in the party spirit, let's talk about the 80s
nightlife scene in NYC- the pantheon of creativity, naughtiness, and a fuck
of a good time. Everyone had "their" 80s- some went the Metal route, some went the Debbie
Gibson/Tiffany mall rat route, others went the new wavey art school route
and hung Psych Furs posters in their suburban rooms. Some were doing the
Gordon Gecko. I knew which avenue I wanted to take at a very young age- I
wanted to hop the first bus to downtown New York and dance. I can recall sitting in my room in Philadelphia, dreaming about New York
City. I was reading the original Details at that time published by a
visionary Annie Flanders and oft chronicled by uber nightlife columnist
Stephen Saban- way ahead of her time and a media cyclone in the 80s. I would
get lost in pictures of New York nightlife luminaries and dream of the day
when I too could hang out with John Sex, Dianne Brill, and Rudolf at places
like The Mudd Club, Danceteria, and Area. It was all so very provocative and
fun and inspired. The way all good nightlife should be. I loved how the downtown club scene included artists, celebrities,
degenerates- all were welcome as long as you could bring something fabulous
to the table. I was well aware that something very vital and liberating was
happening in Manhattan, and I was missing it. I knew that this whole
movement was a reaction to the uber gluttony of the Reagan era- that the
Boeskys, Steinbergs, and Milkens were the impetus for a lot of this
behavior, if not a reaction to its tackiness. I was well aware that
throughout time, New York served as a petri dish for trends- it was a real
yin/yang of culture- some went one way but there was always room for the
other way- the counter way- and I wanted in. It was clear these bright young
things were having a lot better of a time than I was. And they didn't give a
shit what people thought. To a dark teen such as myself, this was grossly
sexy. I also read a lot of Michael Musto for the Voice and pondered a much more
glam existence- away from the Iroc-Zs of my high school, the bad denim
jackets, the mullets. I yearned to be part of this gorgeous coterie of high
glam goodness. I didn't know at the time that one day I would indeed end up
there- spending many nights pinching myself, knowing that I was having the
time of my life. Area would be no more, Danceteria gone, Basquiat dead.
Alas, my 80s were spent only reading about the people I wanted to hang out
with, while I wondered how much longer I could put up with being a teen in
what I had decided was a second (or third) rate town. On any given night,
you could run into a great artist (think Kenny Scharf, Keith Haring,
Basquiat), a total character (John Sex, Suzanne Bartsch, Musto) or a hot
model like Jerry Hall. It was magical and beautiful from where I sat. And
looking back at some of these photos, it surely was. I wonder what the 80s
was for some of you, and if you were too wee to know what was happening at
that time, what would they be? XO
nightlife scene in NYC- the pantheon of creativity, naughtiness, and a fuck
of a good time. Everyone had "their" 80s- some went the Metal route, some went the Debbie
Gibson/Tiffany mall rat route, others went the new wavey art school route
and hung Psych Furs posters in their suburban rooms. Some were doing the
Gordon Gecko. I knew which avenue I wanted to take at a very young age- I
wanted to hop the first bus to downtown New York and dance. I can recall sitting in my room in Philadelphia, dreaming about New York
City. I was reading the original Details at that time published by a
visionary Annie Flanders and oft chronicled by uber nightlife columnist
Stephen Saban- way ahead of her time and a media cyclone in the 80s. I would
get lost in pictures of New York nightlife luminaries and dream of the day
when I too could hang out with John Sex, Dianne Brill, and Rudolf at places
like The Mudd Club, Danceteria, and Area. It was all so very provocative and
fun and inspired. The way all good nightlife should be. I loved how the downtown club scene included artists, celebrities,
degenerates- all were welcome as long as you could bring something fabulous
to the table. I was well aware that something very vital and liberating was
happening in Manhattan, and I was missing it. I knew that this whole
movement was a reaction to the uber gluttony of the Reagan era- that the
Boeskys, Steinbergs, and Milkens were the impetus for a lot of this
behavior, if not a reaction to its tackiness. I was well aware that
throughout time, New York served as a petri dish for trends- it was a real
yin/yang of culture- some went one way but there was always room for the
other way- the counter way- and I wanted in. It was clear these bright young
things were having a lot better of a time than I was. And they didn't give a
shit what people thought. To a dark teen such as myself, this was grossly
sexy. I also read a lot of Michael Musto for the Voice and pondered a much more
glam existence- away from the Iroc-Zs of my high school, the bad denim
jackets, the mullets. I yearned to be part of this gorgeous coterie of high
glam goodness. I didn't know at the time that one day I would indeed end up
there- spending many nights pinching myself, knowing that I was having the
time of my life. Area would be no more, Danceteria gone, Basquiat dead.
Alas, my 80s were spent only reading about the people I wanted to hang out
with, while I wondered how much longer I could put up with being a teen in
what I had decided was a second (or third) rate town. On any given night,
you could run into a great artist (think Kenny Scharf, Keith Haring,
Basquiat), a total character (John Sex, Suzanne Bartsch, Musto) or a hot
model like Jerry Hall. It was magical and beautiful from where I sat. And
looking back at some of these photos, it surely was. I wonder what the 80s
was for some of you, and if you were too wee to know what was happening at
that time, what would they be? XO
