Last night we experienced the Black Unicorn New Year’s Eve Ball, courtesy of The Stockroom, who were also celebrating their 25th year in business. Thank you, Stockroom, for the invite and thank you Boulet Brothers for squeezing so many professional pervs and kink hobbyists to a single Hollywood location.
Victor Lightworship was there promoting his latest book, so of course I stopped in to say hi. He introduced me to fellow snapster Karen Hsiao. She has an amazing new volume out and I’ll do my best to write about before long. Plus she was good company. Pleasant, and not the least bit stuck-up. It was nice to sit in their corner for awhile, both for that reason and because the new new d’Orsay stilettos I had on were not the easiest to totter around in all night.
In addition to the heels, I had on a Victorian skirt and lace blouse from Jawbreaker via my favorite Canadian Northbound Leather. It looked great with a vinyl corset, but the ensemble was positively plain next to attendees like Shannon Chromegirl. I’ve lived in L.A. for awhile now and watched her dance for just as long, but she still has the same amazing physique. Her style just gets better and better.
Kitty Rodrigues and Angel Dies were also dressed to kill. Kitty danced alongside Shannon for a good part of the night while Angel perched, like some glorious bird of paradise on a swing overhead. But the awards for best-dressed has to go to Perish Dignam because … well, just look at him.
Monty Le’ Boom (Boom Boom to friends) is runner-up in that category. She arrived in a froth of red tulle, complete with entourage and camera crew. Way to out-fab a crowd of fabsters, chiquita. The Boulets themselves were done up as, in their own words, “Victorian trannies from outer space”. They gave a speech shortly after the ball drop and confetti blizzard, inviting us to be ourselves and do whatever felt natural. Bien dit, messieurs, we shall strive to do exactly that.
The other great thing about the evening was the music. DJ Xian, of such recurring events as LADEAD and the ever-awesome Wumpsakte had on everything from Peaches to Combichrist in the front room. And just before midnight NELSTAR put on a remix of 20 Fingers’ “Short Dick Man” that just rocked the main stage as well as amused the hell out of me. How on earth had I ever forgotten about that song?
So the people-watching and the beats were great, however, I was surprised by the lack of fetish-themed performances. Sin Fisted autofellating a huge strap-on was a good start, but I saw no actual power play either on the main stage or in the open play area to the side of the ballroom. To my mind, The Stockroom’s silver anniversary should have had house dom(me)s drawing volunteers from the crowd all night or, failing that, a sign-up list for partygoers to use furniture which, instead, sat neglected. At one point a musclebound man took off his shirt and asked the ladies in charge of the playspace to flog his back. One of them whisked at him with a cat no longer than my forearm. At one point he actually turned around and talked to her. What they said was inaudible but it looked as if he’d asked the equivalent of “are you doing anything yet?”
Images by Chromegirl, Monty Le’ Boom, Jim Legman, and Karen Hsiao, via the Boulet Brothers