Bash Compactor: Cutting It Up

Written by Gerry Visco on . Posted in Bash Compactor, Posts.


The word “vivisection” means
experimental surgery conducted on live animals and other organisms, and human
vivisection has been perpetrated as a form of torture. Ugh! Let’s face it, not
too appetizing. However, none of that violence was in evidence last week when I
attended the party called ViVisection. Even better, it was held at The Laugh Lounge on the Lower East Side. No,
there weren’t actually that many laughs, but there was plenty of fashion and
sexy scenesters.

A fashion show was being
held downstairs with models displaying lots of Summer Flesh, the subtitle of
this party. Many of the 10 or so contestants (who were both male and female
with all different body types), were decked out in black, but there were
definitely bright colors sprinkled in, accessorized by decorative face
markings, dyed dreads and eerie white contact lenses. The fashions were
supplied by the notorious evangelist of latex, the Baroness, as well as designer Isabelle Batz, who was showcasing her glitz and glam casualwear.

Little colorful hats were
provided by Venus Alers, who
makes headgear under the name Mad Hatter. She was in the show herself, wearing
a magenta wig with a flowered headdress and a black satin corset, accentuated
by exotic makeup. “My mother won,” she told me after the show was over. “Her
name’s Iris.” Like mother, like daughter. The two resembled one another, both
curvy figured, and the mother was wearing a similar outfit in black.

What’s always surprising in
the dark and goth scene is you’d expect people to be cold and standoffish, but
au contraire, wearing punk and vampire freak attire keeps ’em friendly. For
example, bubbly nightlife personality Lindsay Lowe, a judge, was decorated like a toy shop, in pinks
and yellows, with numerous child-like costume jewelry hanging from her every
surface.

“How do you decide what to
wear?” I asked the host and party producer, Vulcanus Lévi, a dandy who’s normally attired in a costume made of
peacock feathers when I see him at parties around town, in particular On Top at
Le Bain. Tonight was no
exception, but instead of his usual green and turquoise plumage, tonight he was
decked out in white feathers with white face makeup. “I wake up in the morning,
look in the mirror and recreate my dreams,” he told me with the hint of an
accent.

He was standing with Celso, another of the judges, who herself was dressed
elegantly in black. Party animal and performer Kayvon Zand was seated in the lounge, wearing black feathers and
one of the shades missing from his sunglasses. All in black with a chain
hanging from her nose, Kim De’ville
was speaking to her admirers in the lounge. Although the paintings were
impressionistic and fractured mixed media paintings, they matched her pose and
mood. “Happy birthday,” said a few friends coming by to kiss her.

After a
couple of gin and tonics, carefully stepping over the human carpet at the bar,
I said a few parting words to a woman dressed in Marie Antoinette drag, with a
white peruke wig and gold satin ensemble, who handed me her card. Her name was Lady
Zombie
, a professional singer, model, dominatrix and writer. I read aloud her
fitting quote. “A dark, consuming passion burns eternally within the depths of
my eyes. Prepare to have your very life force rocked to its core.” I wasn’t
sure about my life force, but I definitely was thinking about buying some new
clothes.

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