I would go to the all-night grocery store and pretend that I was at Studio 54 because it was the only place open all night. Truman Capote in the frozen foods. Andy Warhol over in vegetables.
I came to NYU to study experimental theater. Shortly thereafter, I was featured in a 'Newsweek' article about the emerging downtown club scene, and, well, that was it for NYU. I was off and running.
You know when you're writing, and it's just you and the computer screen, and you never think that anyone is ever going to read it... you're able to say private things when you're writing.
As for my identity within the context of New York nightlife? I left in the '90s, so I'm not part of the scene anymore. I'll always be interested in what's happening downtown, and I try and keep up with the changing faces on social media.
I was definitely the oddball freak show in school.
When my trust fund ran out, I panicked. I have a lot of admiration for the kids who come to the big city with nothing and make it.
There are people who have too much space between their ears, and given the time, do nothing but free fall forever inside their head. It's a spooky thing to be left alone inside an angry inner-verse.
I can be an incredibly fabulous person, and I don't have to be in the highest heels, the tallest wig, the skimpiest outfit.
I can be an incredibly fabulous person, and I don't have to be in the highest heels, the tallest wig, the skimpiest outfit. I can let other things speak for me now.
We danced on the lip of the volcano, so to speak. We were young, too. And New York was still a big, open city where anything could happen and anyone could be star. Rents were cheap, creativity was encouraged, and bottle service was still 20 years away. That was the era the Club Kids came into.
