By Steve Weinstein
By Devon Maloney
By Tessa Stuart
By Alison Flowers
By Albert Samaha
By Jesse Jarnow
By Eric Tsetsi
By Raillan Brooks
Drag queens and intersexed vagabonds got nice tips at the gala opening of the new East 56th Street location of Yvonne Lamé's Lips club, which joins the San Diego and Fort Lauderdale Lips to make this the biggest drag franchise since the Legally Blonde tour. It's larger than the old Bank Street space, with higher ceilings for all that hair, and swankier environs (like chandeliers, statues, and an actual stage). "I'm so impressed," said Ginger Snap, one of the longtime house performers, surveying the room. "The old place was the Fort Greene projects. This is the Emerald City!" And all those bachelorettes will just have to travel a little farther north to get their "Jesse Volt–fried calamari" and Cher impersonations.
The only down note at the opening was the messy drag guest who sat at my table, grabbed for my Caesar salad, and knocked my virgin fruit drink all over my uptown outfit. I immediately put a call in to her parole officer.
Well-behaved fabsters (a far more sensible word than hipsters) filled the Salon at the Tribeca Grand for a peppy new Friday bash thrown by Paper's Mr. Mickey and Drew Elliott. And the Paper crowd quickly regrouped for the Indochine dinner two nights later, celebrating boss lady Kim Hastreiter's Eugenia Sheppard Award given by the CFDA. In the crowd, Matthew Modine (who was super in The Miracle Worker) told me he might come back to Broadway in the Hartford Stage production of To Kill a Mockingbird, if author Harper Lee approves the move. "She's still in love with Gregory Peck," he said, smiling. "Why wouldn't she be?"
From snakes, beavers, calamari, and mockingbirds, let's move on to Broadway visionary Tommy Tune's "Longnecks" exhibit of giraffe portraits at the Peter Glebo Gallery, which you should strain your neck to see. "Giraffes are so sweet," cooed six-and-a-half-foot Tommy at the opening. "I've spent time feeding them. They love apples!" But the kinship apparently wasn't always at eye level. As a kid, the dancer/director was actually short and used to play on stilts, "not knowing I was gonna grow a pair of my own." Once he shot up like a Scores pole, he sometimes felt like a giraffe in a crowd of regular people, but he said there have been advantages to being the tallest one onstage because "People look at you more!"
Take note, pandrogynous couple.