Bring It! April 2, 2010

The White Party is a gay pilgrimage of epic proportions, a long-standing ritual that gives gays from all over a chance to play the way we play in San Francisco every single day.

The supersized lineup of talent that convinced me to return to the desert with my Pussy Posse for a third time essentially warmed up right here in Oz. Hometown hero DJ Luke Johnstone kicks off the Palm Springs festivities with the Friday pool party, and thanks to his gift for bringing us the big names, we’re already well-rehearsed for all the heavy hitters who’ll be following him throughout the weekend.

Like DJ Abel, who is spinning at Friday night’s underwear party and was just here less than 2 months ago, tearing it up at Industry. Saturday’s main event is headlined by world-class remixers The Freemasons, who not only made their American debut here in San Francisco a year ago, but who turned it out last weekend at a packed 1015 Folsom.

That San Francisco sneak preview of The White Party was a perfect disco storm, with happy music, nonstop divas and anthems, and a united front of all our favorite fags smiling and dancing their hearts out in the same room. It was my idea of homo heaven.

Every circuit party should be an experience like that, and here in our little bubble by the Bay, we make that our reality, with regularity. That spirit is what I’m hoping to bring to Palm Springs, to share with all the boys who don’t have the luxury of living a year-round gaycation.

Much of the White Party entertainment reads like San Francisco’s greatest hits, with DJs Manny Lehman, Moto Blanco, Wayne G, and Tony Moran serving up our circuit soundtrack. All of them have passed through the gayest city in the world on their way.

What we don’t have in San Francisco is a chance to enjoy all this fun in the sun, which is what makes Palm Springs extra-special. Glitter just doesn’t have the same sparkle in the fog, so I’m especially looking forward to Sunday’s T-dance, where we can soak up the scene from atop the ferris wheel, bounce it out on the blow-up slide, and cheer to fabulous fireworks while Palm Spring’s straight-and-narrows observe us through the fence.

What a great way to celebrate just how happy we are to be gay in every way and every day. Bring it!

Bring It! March 19, 2010

One of the best things about traveling the gay dance circuit is getting to represent on behalf of the gayest city in the world.

Whenever I venture to dancefloors beyond the bubble, I consider myself a proud San Francisco ambassador. The response I get reinforces that San Francisco is exactly the right place for a die-hard hag like me to call home, and validates that there really is no place like home, where every minute of every day is hella gay.

On my recent trip to Miami’s Winter Party Festival, I gave a whole new set of boys a taste of San Francisco with my homothusiasm. The flowers in my hair and my excessive glitter expressed the spirit of San Francisco everywhere I went, from the Rough Waters leather event with DJ Ted Eiel, to a drive-by at the Atlantis sailaway party, to owning a section of the afterparty dancefloor with DJ Luke Johnstone to my left and a pack of Brazilians to my right.

My reality check came when my CASTRO hoodie got an unexpected reaction from a Latin boy who warned me that I’d better not wear it in Miami. And here I thought there was only one Castro in the entire world, and that it was covered in rainbow.

One of my favorite moments was in the crowd outside Palace in South Beach. I worked the pushy masses as if they were my personal receiving line, smiling at everyone that bumped into me while observing a stunning cross-section of Miami’s scene-queens.

When two hot muscle daddies passed by, I muttered a sincere WOOF, almost involuntarily. Daddy stopped in his tracks and asked, incredulously, “Did you just WOOF at me?!”

“I sure did, handsome,” I said. Such a queer comment coming from a cocky gay without a cock apparently caught him off guard. Daddy felt compelled to gather his friends around and ask me where I had come from, as often happens when I forget where I am and that not every place is Oz.

But that wasn’t nearly as funny as the tranimal taken aback by the crazy braided ‘do my fab hairstylist Gib fierced me out with before I left for Miami, and the custom-couture Chaps t-shirts I rocked out with my travel trio. Working the rooftop at Club Manor like a runway after sneaking into DJ Manny Lehman’s booth for a cameo, Tranimal turned to me and said, “Where is you from, cuz it ain’t here?!”

San Fran Fucking Cisco, that’s where!

Bring It: March 5, 2010

Hi, my name is Suzan Revah and I’m addicted to the circuit. Moving to the thumpa thumpa with my gays until I’m completely lost in the moment, covered in sweat and panting, is my favorite high. It’s an adrenaline charge, a ritualistic release, and apparently I just can’t get enough.

After a lifetime of cruise directing queens toward the disco ball - my drag name isn’t Pushy Bottom for nothing! – my excesses are coming full circle. And when it comes to disco temptation, I’m utterly powerless.

On an Atlantis cruise last year, I met a boy who owns a gay hotel in Miami. “Girl! You HAVE to come for Winter Party!” he said. I giggled politely, knowing there was no way in hell I could afford to get there. But just a few months later, I bought a ticket on Virgin and expanded my circuit frontier.

Supposedly understanding that tradeoffs would be necessary, I then swore I would NOT be attending this year’s White Party Palm Springs because I need to direct my vacation budget (a term I use quite loosely) elsewhere. But then I saw the epic lineup of DJs and the gathering storm of friends making their party plans, and now I’m on my way next month.

My addiction turned to full-on financial irresponsibility when I went from pooh-poohing Atlantis cruises - “How will I ever get to Rio or Sydney if I keep blowing my wad on those floating bathhouses?” – to signing up for the biggest cruise ever one year from now. My addiction has a layaway plan!

It’s always something on the circuit, with constant peer pressure to choose fun over reason. I seriously can’t afford my gay lifestyle, and yet I can’t afford not to. What if the party I skip turns out to be the best one ever?

Oscar Wilde comes to mind: “My only regret in this life are my economies,” he said. Spoken like a true circuit whore, and it’s the perfect rationalization for why I can’t help but bring it to one dancefloor after another, even though I think I can quit anytime.

What does your gay lifestyle say about your addictive personality? Tell me more at www.lovemygays.com.

Bring It! February 19, 2010

It’s one thing to love your gays for all the fabulous fun they bring into your life, but it’s another thing entirely to love your gays for being the family you choose for yourself - as opposed to the family you’re born into.

I recently had the chance to host a mixing and mingling of both my “given” family and my chosen San Framily, and it made me fall in love with my gays all over again.

Being an old-school fag hag, there was a time when my gays represented a very intentional departure from the claustrophobic confines of my family. The “Family” we referred to back then as code was a safe haven. My gays provided sanctuary where I could fully express my inner freak and know that, instead of being judged, my differences would be cultivated and celebrated.

I’ve come a long way since then, and am told often that I’m way gayer than most gays. My conventional family has always had a sense of this, since I’ve always run with a gaggle of gays, but it’s only recently that I’ve fully come out.

These days, I live my big gay life loud and proud regardless of context, even if that context is my very traditional Turkish-Jewish upbringing. A visit from my recently widowed mother validated this choice a thousand times over, as I got to witness a beautiful and touching outpouring of support that welcomed her over the rainbow.

The queens truly treated my mother like a queen, and she quickly felt so flattered and comfortable in their presence – and in their bars! - that it was as if she too had been a lifelong fag hag. And she’s 79!

I couldn’t be more grateful and proud of my beloved gays for extending themselves so generously. They refined and redefined the concept of family, bringing swishy sunshine into my mother’s life and embracing her fully in the San Framily fold. It’s an experience I’ll never forget, a priceless perspective on why I love my gays in countless ways.

Please tell me in your own words why you love being gay at www.lovemygays.com, and next time your mom comes to the Castro, let me know so I can cruise direct the glitterized welcome wagon!

Bring It! February 6, 2010

Some people read self-help books, but I seek wisdom in the divas of the dancefloor.

They serve up a message that’s sweepingly simple, yet seemingly specific, thumping a universal theme of self-empowerment to help you rise above it all.

The message that got me recently was a call to action: “Express Yourself.” With Valentine’s Day and the International Bear Rendezvous coming up, I got to thinking about all the ways I get to do just that, living here in Oz.

My big gay Valentine plan includes gogo dancing for my favorite charity (the AIDS Emergency Fund) at a leather bar (Chaps) on Saturday the 13th. I’m flattered by the company I’ll be keeping – Travis Creston, Race Cooper, Julian Marshburn – and they’ll provide “stiff” competition for who can bring in the most tips. I’ll be expressing myself hard to prove I deserve my spot in the lineup, and to win over the leathermen questioning the female on the gogo box.

Earlier that day is a video release party at The Midnight Sun at 3pm. The “First Sight of Red” video by Ejector - my favorite leather, glitter, goth band - is strikingly beautiful, and it paints a gorgeous portrait of gay San Francisco and the overflowing talent that expresses itself inside our bubble.

I’ll start Valentine’s Day worshiping at my “church,” Maria Stanford’s intensely zen yoga class at Gold’s Gym Castro. It’s where I process my messages from the dancefloor among the amazingly fit men that line up mat-to-mat to express themselves. A perfectly San Francisco exercise of enlightenment.

From there I’m going to see Justin Bond’s Closer to You at the Castro Theatre, my idea of family-friendly entertainment for my visiting mother. There will be Carpenters tunes and a 10-piece orchestra, and interludes from The Cockettes, a revival of one of San Francisco’s finest traditions of self-expression.

After hours I’m headed to Sanctuary, a party I never miss. It’ll be extra grrry and furry on IBR weekend, with chunk-house diva Ted Eiel at the decks. Dancing in the man-pit until dawn is my favorite way of all to express my true self, the fag hag who just can’t get enough of loving her gays in so many ways.

Sign up for my weekly email blast, the Cruise Director Alert, at www.originalfaghag.com, then meet me under the discoball to see what wisdom we can gain as we express ourselves.

Bring It! January 22, 2010

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Bring It: January 8, 2010

Here’s to a new, as-of-yet unglitterized year!

Having survived the mary and gay of the holidaze makes me want to run for the nearest dancefloor, which is hardly a stretch for the Original Fag Hag, but it is one way of answering the question: How did I get so damn gay?

Boys often ask this of me and my fellow fruit-fly-on-the-front-lines-of-fag-haggery, Janine Shiota, and our short answer is because, once you go gay, you just can’t stay away.

Looking ahead at my gayer-than-gay calendar of events for the year, it’s flamingly obvious that the love and support and fabulous fun this community exchanges is more than just a day in the lifestyle, it’s an essential year-round endeavor.

I’ve already got big plans to get my gay on for MLK weekend and President’s Day weekend. Beyond that there’s Winter Party Miami (my first!), Irreverent Easter in Dolores Park (Hunky Jesus!), and then White Party Palm Springs. I thought I could resist the call of the desert this year, but I had to rethink given the white-hot DJs lined up, and then before we know it it’ll be Memorial Day and Pride, and I’ll be so deep in the glitter I won’t know what to do with myself until I can relax and unwind (ha!) on an Atlantis cruise somewhere.

Deep in the homo mix is where I feel most at home and at peace. The inclusive, accepting embrace of the community I lovingly call my San Framily is where I can truly ground myself by losing myself. Whether it’s at the club, or in drag, or in leather, or working for the cause, being so hella gay is the only way I know how to be, and I wouldn't change that for the world.

What gay goings-on are you most looking forward to this year and why? Tell me in your own words at www.lovemygays.com, or just stop by to check out all the many ways Janine and I love our gays.

Let's make this new decade the gayest one yet!