Ready to be impressed
Once again I find myself thinking, “Shit, it’s that time of year again.” Costumes and party preparations have all gone into overdrive. You can almost hear the dress pins clink as a belt or strip of sequins is fastened to some creation that, you’ve been promised, will look absolutely “amazing, darl”.
Sleaze Ball was the first major party I attended a million moons ago. Still thinking I was a boy, I sashayed in wearing just a handful of plastic pearls, hot shorts and knee-high platform boots. Nothing screams you’re not a drag queen more than knee-high platform boots, does it?
Finally I decided to stop lying to myself and let out my inner girl, and headed to the next Sleaze Ball in a canvas-lined dress that looked smashing, but unfortunately increased the already extreme temperature to something almost unbearable. As I was being dragged from hall to hall by Atlanta Georgia and Faren Heit, the beads of sweat seemed to go unnoticed by anyone other than me.
So what should we expect from Sleaze Ball this year? Is there going to be sleaze? Is there going to be nudity?
There’s one party I recall rather vividly. I was in the centre of the dancefloor with Faren and Atlanta when all the boys decided to pull their dicks out at 1am to try to deter the straight boys from overrunning the party. I of course was spinning like a ballerina – this, I thought to myself, was a Sleaze Ball I would remember with great fondness.
And was it a Sleaze Ball that opened with a stage full of naked bears? I remember there was a pregnant pause until suddenly, when the realisation kicked in, the entire RHI erupted into a massive roar.
Those were the days I remember fondly, the days when Sleaze was at its peak. So am I expecting too much to get a similar eyeful this year? Or am I just turning into a dirty perv?
This year the people at Mardi Gras are going to have to work extra hard to impress me. I am still recovering from the year they got Collette to come and sing Ring My Bell. Topping something that camp is a tough call.
A couple of years ago, I shared the stage with Melissa Tkautz. You remember her – she was from E Street and she tried to be Kylie, but she just wasn’t good enough. Anyway, after the show a friend said that Sleaze Ball was no different from any other night out. There were, he said, thousands of partygoers dancing like drones to a doof doof beat.
But if you look around carefully, and take in the whole atmosphere, you can feel something more – you can feel the life that has made the party what it is. From a crazy over-heated drag queen spinning like a top under the mirror ball to the elegant naked lady who seductively dances with her girlfriend without a care in the world – this is Sleaze Ball.
I hope those of you heading to the party this year take a risk and get into the circus theme. It’s a party where you can have a little fun and excitement, so why disappoint?
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