La Vie En Rose

Pink Martini+Pasta Fresco: Her Majesty Kim Hastreiter Holds Court in L.A.

By now, it should be no surprise, that if the inimitable Pink Martini is playing in Los Angeles or New York or even now Paris (more on that later), among the shifting ensemble of guest musicians and singers is one performer on the triangle who has become a near-regular: the equally inimitable Queen Bee of Pop (Counter) Culture and co-founder of Paper Magazine, Kim Hastreiter.

Pink Martini was on its annual New Year's Eve storming of the Walt Disney Concert Hall, and so, too, Kim at her customary suite at the Hollywood Standard Hotel, home base as she juggled a slam-bam extended weekend of meetings for business and fun.

Kim hadn't seen Nina since our visit to the Paper Mag offices in New York in May, so we swung by after lunch at Food+Lab to catch up with her a few blocks over at Silver Lake's Sunset Junction. It was the day before the concert and, not surprisingly, we found her surrounded by a handful of cool kids in an art-filled loft with an enormous dining table, up the steps above Intelligentsia Coffeehouse. The space, along with this corner of real estate, including Cafe Stella, belongs to Gareth Kantner, who also joined the impromptu gathering. A supper for Kim's L.A. pals was quickly planned for a couple of nights later there, with Gareth promising to roast a porcetta.

But there would be no savory oink. No surprise, within the day, Kim's guest list grew beyond what the loft could comfortably seat. And so to Speranza, a neighborhood Italian restaurant nearer to my 'hood for the Monday night supper. And what a divine way to spend an evening it was, catching up with old and new pals alike over shavings of cheese, prosciutto and, later, a hot bowl of ziti all' Amatriciana which was worth blowing any aspirations of New Year calorie-cutting.

Among the new pals is baker Vanessa Lavorato, newly arrived from S.F. to L.A. and whom Kim has already put to work as a writer! Kim was especially excited touting the bon bons worthy of the White Rabbit made by lovely Vanessa, pictured above with performance art icon Joey Arias and Pink Martini's Thomas Lauderdale holding the beautifully boxed treats. 

I hadn't seen Joey since his show with Basil Twist shook up the RedCat in late 2010. A cameo player in Pink Martini, too, he spent New Year's Eve not at the Disney Hall with Basil, Kim and the orchestra, but bringing down the Chateau Marmont with his own cabaret show (had Andy and I not already planned on spending the evening with Barbara Bestor, who was also at the Monday night supper, I would've popped my gold turban-topped head at his gig). Two nights after the Chateau and sans drag, Joey made me dizzy telling me all he had going on for 2012, including a lengthy run of "Arias with A Twist" in D.C., recording with Pink Martini and—most exciting—the release of a film directed, costumed and produced by his longtime collaborator Thierry Mugler. Cannot wait to see that!

Another dinner guest with exciting news for the new year was Jeremy Scott. The project has not been announced yet, but suffice it to say, having been one of the first people who met the designer when he plopped down here in L.A. a lifetime ago, I'm so proud of him—especially the way he has managed to find sanity and success in this cuckoo fashion biz by writing his own ticket.

There were plenty of guests at Madame Hastreiter's table who are all about writing their own tickets—artist Adelle Lutz, publicist Jen Gross, photographer The Cobra Snake. Seated on Kim's right was Jeffrey Deitch who certainly keeps writing and selling tickets to the galas and exhibitions now under his care as the director of MOCA. He talked to me about the upcoming show on Rudi Gernreich that he's been madly collaborating on with Decades' Cameron Silver and inviting me to sit in on one of their rendezvous in the next couple of weeks. I just may take him up on it...

The invite I would so love to accept, however, is joining Kim in Paris come March when she and Pink Martini ring in the anniversary of the house of Lanvin. In that delciously dry way Kim has of retelling a story, she told us how she had to twist Alber Elbaz's arm to come see the band when they played Paris this last fall. He would only go, he insisted begrudgingly, to see her perform. Before the concert was over, Alber was apparently on stage singing his heart out with the band and a booking for the grand party this spring promptly followed.

Paris is likely not in my cards for March, so instead I'll make due with the parting gift from Kim that evening, a copy of PM's latest "A Retrospective." Get it.

X-mas Song, L.A. Style

Keep your carolers. The only songs I'm in the mood for right now are off the 1980 album "Los Angeles" by one of the greatest bands of all time, X. 

Excene Cervenka, John Doe, DJ Bonebrake and Billy Zoom performed the album in its entirety tonight at a show I unfortunatley had to miss due to my book signing. Yes, folks I was scribbling my finest John Hancock for the likes of Zsa Zsa Gabor's husband, Prinz von Anhalt, and other Beverly Hills locals instead of getting bashed around in the pit at an X show. Which brings to mind track seven of this masterpiece, "Sex and Dying in High Society"... 

The band is making the rounds as part of its somewhat annual "Xmas Traveling Rock & Roll Revival" tour. They're also promoting the reissue of their 1986 rockumentary "X: The Unheard Music." That DVD is definitely on my Santa list.

While there's no way I can make Friday's show at the Santa Monica Civic, I do have to admit that the December 28 show at Buck Owens Crystal Palace in Bakersfield could truly be an experience...

p.s. One of these days I'll dig up the 2003 Q+A I did for WWD with Exene on her seminal style.

You're Invited To A Current Affair: Booksigning+Vintage Togs

In spite of a career as journalist-curator-retailer based on endlessly ferreting the Next Big Thing, I've had an equally consuming passion for the past. What people wore and surrounded themselves in served as a intuitive mnemonic system for me to recall my school history lessons, thanks in large part to growing up with a mother who frequented dusty antique shops and garage sales and filled our family suburban home with stuff a century-plus years old.

As a budding clotheshorse, I used my allowance to buy my very first piece of vintage fashion, a pair of kitten-heeled black pumps with a severely pointed toe. I was 10. They reminded me of the pair that Debbie Harry wore along with a striped jersey dress when Blondie performed on TV. I had my mom quickly make me a dress like it, of course. Into high school, I wore vintage clothes, lingerie, jewelry, stilettos and even dead-stock silk stockings almost exclusively, and what I couldn't find, my mom continued to whip up in time for me to hit the clubs each night.

Three decades later, I continue to mix my vintage with modern, like so much of the world does now. I love that the very thing that the Heathers of the world used to mock me for in grade school is now the chic girl's badge of style. My friends who live in London, Paris, Barcelona and New York tell me that Los Angeles remains, bar none, the best place on earth for vintage.

With resources such as this weekend's vintage marketplace A Current Affair, who am I to argue?

More than 30 vendors of vintage fashion, jewelry and accessories will come together at downtown's Cooper Design Space for the 
two‐day 
pop‐up
, the brainchild of 
Joey 
Grana 
of 
Scout, one of the city's best retail resources for new and vintage fashion, 
and
 Richard
 Wainwright 
of NEW/FOUND, the innovative appointment-only vintage concept studio.

This weekend's installation is especially exciting for me because Joey and Richard have invited me to participate as host, as well as sign copies of my latest book, Fred
 Hayman—The 
Extraordinary
 Difference:
 The 
Story 
of 
Rodeo 
Drive, 
Hollywood
 Glamour
 and
 the
 Showman 
Who
 Sold 
It
 All.

Part of my hostessing duties involve curating a selection vintage holiday frocks and frippery from the many vendors that will be showcased and available for purchase. What a fun opportunity!

The showcase, along with the booksigning and yours truly will be there for the opening festivities Saturday night, from 6 to 10 p.m. It's a great party, with music, bevvies and a turn out of some of the city's most fashionably turned-out vintage enthusiasts.

Stay tuned...I'll be giving away free tickets on my Twitter digs.

See you there!

A
 Current
 Affair:
 Pop
-Up
 Vintage
 Marketplace takes place this Saturday, Dec. 4 from 6 to 10 p.m.; Sunday, Dec. 3 from 11 a.m. to 5 p.m. at the Cooper Design Space, 860 South Los Angeles Street  Los Angeles 90014-3311.

Gwen Stefani On Target With Harajuku Mini

Malcolm Maclaren could very well be turning in his grave. Then again, the grand poobah punk provocateur might find the sight of pint-sized schoolchildren clad in skinny tartan bondage pants hooked with pleated half skirts and multi-buckled boots courtesy of a mass retailer utterly subversive.

Mini-me versions of these once-rebellious togs debut today in Target stores as part of the new Harajuku Mini Collection by Gwen Stefani, following a playfully whimsical launch party Saturday afternoon at the Jim Henson Studios in Hollywood.

The grand hall was transformed into a kind of Japanese kawaii Mod girl fantasy-meets-Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. But the tall glass jars overflowed with Japanese candies as this is the uber cute and uber cool world Gwen has cultivated with her grown-up girl Harajuku Lovers line. That label launched in 2005, a year after her primary collection L.A.M.B. and named after the style-obsessed zone around Harajuku Station in Tokyo.

This peewee incarnation for Target proves this mother of re-invention has only scratched the surface of possibilities.

The walls of the studio where the party took place were swathed in projections of a cartoonish Tokyo, and massive blow-ups of Gwen's Harajuku characters suspended overhead like those in the Macy's Thanksgiving Parade.

There were plenty of activity tables for the many kids who turned out with their parents: a station where they could draw and apply Harajuku Mini stickers in blank books; a beauty area to have their hair done and dressed up with hair clips and poufy hair bands from the line; a DIY fashion stop, where the tiny guests earnestly embellished T-shirts and bandanas from the line with studs, buttons and other details.

And, of course, there were photo booths like those so favored by Japan teens, where users can choose from a range of fun and silly backdrops and symbols such as hearts, stars and cute creatures to decorate photos. Nina and I lined up as soon as we arrived.

Both off and on the runway, the hall was filled with cute kids. There were several folks I hadn't seen in ages, and here we all were, decades after scoring our own bondage pants at NaNa's, toting around our tiny tots. C'est la vie!

On the catwalk, the mini models sported some fantastic hair thanks to Danilo, a longtime collaborator of Team Stefani, which includes costume designer/stylist Arianne Phillips. She turned out to celebrate in the fruits of her labor in the craziest jacket she picked up in Tokyo, decorated with patches of pandas illustrated in Ace Frehley make-up. 

Gwen's sons Zuma and Kingston were among those who scampered and posed for the crowd and cameras, and they returned to the runway for the finale bow with mom, who was dressed in a psychedlic patterned suit from her label L.A.M.B. and a whopping Indian-style necklace.

From the creatively assembled sushi displays to the Japanese vending machines serving up juices, the bash was flawlessly executed. With the nonstop ska and rock steady courtesy of our deejay pal Scott Oster, Nina certainly was loving every moment.

The collection is for kids ages 1 to 13 and accessibly priced from $4 to $30. I only hope there are a few things left when I finally make it to Target tomorrow. It's online—but only for viewing. Ugh!

Arianne Philips gives her approval.

 

Jeremy Scott and Nina Griffith

 

Designer/stylist Andrea Leiberman and son

Face painting table

Japanese-style veniding machines with Japanese juices

Another shot of Kingstone and Zuma with mom

Bullseye! Jeremy Scott, Gwen Stefani and Arianne Phillips

"Extradorinary" Shout Out for the New Caulfield's, Yours Truly in THR

A great plug for my second book and upcoming party in this week's The Hollywood Reporter. "Where the Young Turks Go To Drink," is a two-page feature by Alexis Johnson and Degen Penner spotlighting the new wave of hangouts caterting to the entertainment industry's rising power players.

From the story:

Another hotel is getting a hip reboot. The Thompson Beverly Hills (9360 Wilshire Blvd.), which shut down its BondSt restaurant last year, is reopening the space as a 125-seat bistro called CAULFIELD’S. The first event is a private book party Nov. 9 for fashion writer Rose Apodaca’s biography Fred Hayman: The Extraordinary Difference, hosted by Oscar-nominated costume designer Arianne Phillips (Walk the Line) and fashion designer Jeremy Scott. We hear that the management, which poached a VIP ambassador from the Standard Hotels, is consciously going after Soho House’s young creatives crowd and planning to open a second-floor lounge as well.

I'm absolutely honored that Caulfield's owners Ron Marino and Laurie Mulstay are rolling out the carpet in celebration of my book (Fred Hayman - The Extraordinary Difference) with next Wednesday's party. The pair are also behind bar Chloe in Santa Monica and Magnolia in Hollywood.

The name of this latest place is a nod to the protagonist in Catcher in the Rye, and the gem in the space is a mural with the faces of the blacklisted writers. Such amazing company.

Keith Richards' Aural Treats

Behind the wheel this summer, it hasn't been so much about a song but the man behind some of our favorite anthems of all time, Keith Richards. The audiobook to his 2.2-pound autobio  Life  has been ontap in the car since our impromptu road trip earlier last month to San Francisco. And since then we've been stretching out the aural delights of Keeeiifff!!!

While Johnny Depp and Joe Hurley split much of the 20-some hours reading from the memoir, the maddog Englishman himself takes the mike for some of the ripest recollections, including the crazy summer days in the back of a Rolls with Anita Pallenberg as they barrelled down to the south of Spain to jump a ferry to Marrakesh.

It took Audiobook of the Year this past April, in large part because it's exposed a whole new audience to the genre. Yours truly included. But somehow, I think all the rest will pale by comparison. 

I usually side on reading the book. I did get my very own copy for Christmas, and it lives at the head of my bed in the active stack. I've even cracked open the heavy thing on evenings when I'm not totally wiped (on those night's I've been giving into that other rock star, Anthony Bourdain and his latest, Medium Raw—in paperback!). Given the heft of Life, I'm guessing that I'm not alone.

So download it. Reading's fine. But listening to Keith Richards tell it like it is is worth the price of gas and much more.

This summer and always: Don't drink and drive, darlings.

This is Not Egypt

 

Because what else is there to say. Plenty, of course.

To-Do Today: From Street Art Grit to the Luxe of Louis XV

If you can't stand the heat, get into the Getty Center or Geffen Contemporary today. Seriously, it's today or never if you're going to catch two exhibitions here in L.A. worth your Sunday.

At the Getty Center, "Paris: Life & Luxury" is an enchanting amuse bouche of the extravagant heights pleasant society during Louix XV's reign underwent in even the most mundane moments of daily life. Even if you've seen these kinds of items before (and I certainly have), it was still worth the afternoon last week to see this presentation. From corseted gowns to a porcelain playing card box, a mustard container to a telescope, no item escaped the gilded touch of hundreds of unknown artisans.

Given the recent trash talk in D.C. over the debt crisis, the Getty exhibition is expecially pungent as a study of how far the rich will go at the cost of those outside their carved exotic wood doors—which even the wealthy during the 18th century enjoyed. It's also a great excuse to take in L.A. from one of the greatest viewing points. Le show closes today.

At the other end of town and of the visual spectrum is "Art in the Streets" at the Geffen Contemporary at MOCA. It's a dizzying survey of graffiti and other forms of street art since the late 1960s, and associate curators Roger Gastman and Aaron Rose did a remarkable job pulling together all of the elements, from artist notebooks to the skateboard ramps installed for the show. There are dark rooms showing videos and shorts providing a place to recharge. And do not miss the timeline section hovering above the Geffen's cavernous gallery.

In fact, there might be too much. To be honest, Andy and I were a wee perplexed at some of the inclusions. But these are minor distractions given all the varied ingredients mixed in, as well as the astounding installations that will come down Tuesday morning. We loved seeing the likes of Jamie Reid's work for the Sex Pistols (the image above, not that you'd confuse it with the equally sexy image below!).

MOCA Director Jeffrey Deitch shared with me at Glenn Kaino's birthday party last month that the exhibition might still have a second life in New York. The folks at the Brooklyn Museum of Art wimped out following media frenzy that the show here was behind an increase in tagging— a tale not corroborated based on previous year's tagging—and that the same could happen in New York. I'm no fan of tagging, which is mostly fatuous, uninspired dribble. But there is a great and long tradition of street art (which goes back centuries, of course) that has served up more, a lot more.

Thankfully, not everyone shares the Brooklyn Museum's opinion, and another site might step up to present it.

After all, New York is the birthplace of pop art in all its incarnations. Then again, so was the art of Andy Warhol. Yet it took a gallery in Los Angeles to be the first to take a chance on that guy.

Go today or go tomorrow, its final day here or, possibly anywhere.

François Boucher's "Lady Fastening Her Garter, also known as La Toilette" (1742)

Jambox Rocks Our World

All this excitement over Yves Behar's visit to A+R late last week was not only over the launch of the Form 4. We're also beyond smitten over the new Jambox wireless speaker he created for Jawbone. It's been flying out of our doors since we introduced it in mid-March, and we've been loving it in our home, office and car since we first started testing it out a few weeks before that.

The sound is beyond amazing, and the built-in microphone and Bluetooth technology means it can be used as a speaker phone (which is great if you don't have Bluetooth connection in your car). No wires. No dock. And 10 hours of play on a single charge. I also love the rubberized edges and bright colors. It's also light enough to toss in your bag.

Photos: Courtesy Jawbone

¡Disco Silencio! SCI-Arc+Barbara Bestor

Visual excess? Exploring the space between social promiscuity and solipsistic trance? Sounds like our kind of night. Architect Barbara Bestor considers social and communal experiences by staging a temporary disco at SCI-Arc. The six-week installation kicks off with a party Friday night and continues on view at the downtown architecture school where she often teaches.

"The design of the structure is an over-scaled, unfolded demi-dodecahedron model that contains a strong graphic interface," says Barbara, a pal who helped create a similarly strong graphic code to the A+R interior (and we love her for it!) "The title ‘Silent Disco’ refers to both the less populated hours of the gallery and to the space itself, when it is unplugged but still dancing.”

For Barbara, this exercise wasn't about erecting something static. From the homes she builds inside out to the pop-up installations for Paper magazine, pleasure—communal, corporeal and visual—is right there in the quirky charm and simple beauty of our every day surroundings and experiences.

This Friday's dance party is dubbed ¡Disco Silencio! A second follows on April 22 as ¡Disco Callado! Both feature live deejay sets via that modern and prosaic of music lover tools, the iPad. Barbara's take on what it's all about follows:

¡Disco Silencio!
Disco Architecture encourages visual excess and explores the space between social promiscuity and solipsistic trance. Silent Disco employs technologies of superficial deception inspired by Razzle Dazzle camouflage. This WW1 military technique used bold graphic and anamorphic surfaces to mislead enemy bombers about the size, speed and direction of a warship. Within our constructed space, this deflective graphic strategy is conjoined with the reflective effect of embedded mirror ball fragments whose strategy is to distort the visual space by refracting light - a hybrid military and disco architectures of surface.

¡Disco Refugio!
This disco is a refuge, providing respite from the institutional production of architecture with a program that stimulates communal exchange. When unfolded, the shape of this over-scale three-dimensional form reveals a dance floor that invites the social and engages the physical - a polyhedron of hedonism. The plywood panels appear to advance and recede within the space, obscuring the parameters of the disco and offering up multiple spatial possibilities based on the visual perception of form. Silent Disco is a stealthy architecture, imbued with disinformation of literal form.

¡Disco Callado!
In real time, Silent Disco has a day and nightlife of its own. By day, the reflective surfaces capture and refract rays, populating the space with a silent volume of light, both tranquil and kinetic. By night, the disco has many programs - including a downloadable soundtrack and dance parties with DJs, lasers, projections and fog. Like any other club, the Silent Disco's geometry naturally offers back rooms and dark corridors, an alternative refuge to the visual din of the dance floor.

Barbara Bestor Architecture: Silent Disco at SCI-Arc, 960 East 3rd Street, Los Angeles, CA 90013. Opening reception: Friday, April 1, 7 to 9 p.m. Installation runs through May 15.

Renderings Courtesy of Bestor Architecture

Return of the Castillian Badass

This weekend marked the return of the Castillian Badass behind the turntables.

Yes, that would be me.

In celebration of the birthday of our pal, writer Deanna Kizis, her wonderful husband, filmmaker Julian Cautherly, came up with the clever idea of inviting friends to deejay for 30-minute sets. It's been at least six years since I spent my Saturday nights spinnig at one of the bars I co-owned, Vine. So long, in fact, I can't even recall the name of the evening.

My deejay name, however, I could. It was stolen from the back of a jacket on the back of some long, tall dude dancin' his heart out in a square in New Orleans, a fantastic sight my sister, mom and I caught more than a decade ago during a burleque fest there. Being that I'm Castillian, well, it's become my own tag over the years and I had to revive it once again for my Saturday night return to the wax.

And return I did...and will. Andy finally brought home my brand new glossy red record player, a Pro-ject Debut III (we have them in a handful of candy colors in the store, and they will be online soon enough!). I've got crates of crazy vinyl that haven't seen the light of day since the Vine days. And as Dhani Harrison, who also got a red Pro-ject from us recently, noted today when he came into the store, the time is right to get back to basics. Amen.

Given my ecclectic collection, I could've gone in many directions Saturday night. After some thought, I decided to play (and in this order):

"Big Ten Inch Record" covered by Aerosmith off Toys in the Attic

"You're My Meat" covered by Joe Jackson off Jumpin' Jive

"Mick's Blessings" by Style Council off My Ever Changing Moods

"California Man" by Cheap Trick off Heaven Tonight

"Queen Bitch" by David Bowie off Hunky Dory

"White Girl" by X off Wild Gift (yes, the original Slash record!)

"2,000 Man" by Kiss off Dynasty

"Deuce" covered by Lenny Kravitz off Kiss My Ass (album cover pictured above)

"These Boots are Made for Walking" covered by Simaryp off Skinhead Moonstomp

"Rosslyn" by David Bowie off Bowie Pinups

"La Vie en Rose" covered by Marlene Dietrich off Marlene Dietrich at the Cafe de Paris

 

...Not all available on iTunes. But all on vinyl.

 

P.S. Sorry Amy Fleetwood for missing your big birthday getaway this weekend. If only we could be in two places at once!

Lady Stardust: Ann Magnuson Flashes Bowie

As David Bowie got a lip-smacking mouthful of Ann Magnuson in the opening scenes of "The Hunger," it was only right she obliged three decades later and take a bite of the eternal icon's style and sound in marking his turning 64.

Yes, in case you missed it, dear friends, David Bowie hit that milestone last Saturday. And how better to observe the birthday than gathering a bunch of friends into the Steve Allen Theater in Los Feliz?

Clad in glittering frocks on special loan from Bob Mackie, Ann comandeered the stage and mostly the "Ziggy Stardust" and "Aladdin Sane" songbooks, plus a ditty from his pre-Bowie Mod days, with a gang of seasoned musicians—Kristian Hoffman, Joe Berardi, Jonathan Lea and Miiko Watanabe—performing under the nom de mirth, the Star Whackers From Mars. In their diabolical care, "TVC 15" became a rioutous "QVC 15, and The Beatle's "When I'm 64" transformed in the style of Brecht/Weill in a nod to Bowie's period in Berlin.

The big show was as much about the get-ups as anything else, and Ann tickled the sold-out party with one after another glam revamp—on stage. (And for this, I regret abiding by the exhortation of the stage hand to the crowd not to take photographs during the show. I learned too late—backstage after it all—that I could have! Ah well...) Much of the changes were by way of over-the-top jewels and quaint headgear courtesy of her pal at Caprice Grey in nearby Silver Lake. Ann spent several glorious songs in little more than sparkling gold stockings, a teeny weeny panty and brocade foundation from Nice Corset. It's no exaggeration to say that the multi-threat performance artist has a body—and bum—any 20-year-old woman would covet—and she just turned 55 four days before opening night.

(Sorry Ann if you don't wish to be reminded of this, but if I were you, I'd be sharing this unbelievable factoid with everyone.)

This wasn't an evening so much about lauding venerable rebels who've still got it. But suffice it to say that special guest troubador Michael Des Barres has got it in spades. A stone silver fox at 62, Michael literally shook up the place with his renditions of "Suffragette City" and a moving "All the Young Dudes." 

Glam is all about excess. So despite a Bowie-brimmed program that more than satisfied all of the David/Ann friends and fans in the theater, Ann and her Star Whackers struck us silly with more: a final act brightly spotlighting that openly gay glam god that never was, Jobriath. Equal parts hysterical and heart-breaking, the musical tale about this real-life Icarus hit a palatable chord in the place, and in part because Ann's narative included Lance Loud, the artist-journalist, gay icon and friend of so many on stage and in the crowd who, like Jobriath, succumbed to AIDS in 2001.

(Scroll to the bottom for a video of Jobriath performing. While I as at it, decided to also post Ann's turn in "The Hunger." Too bad it ended so soon!)

For those who manage to make it to 64 or not, the evening was about celebrating life with all its bedazzling, beguiling, beautiful promise.

And Lady Ann Magnuson delivered.

 (Note: A few more photos of the evening taken with 35mm on my new vintage Olympus O will be posted shortly. So please return.)

Still rockin' as ever, that silver fox Michael Des Barres belting out "Suffragette City"

 

Ann Magnuson, in her final Bob Mackie frock, introduces the audience to the ephemeral phenom that was Jobriath

 

Natty Liz Graves

 

Bryan Rabin (in Sprouse tie and sneakers) and me and my 1988 Olympus O-Product

 

  

Photos of Ann Magnuson on stage, Michael DesBarres and Bryan Rabin and Rose Apodaca by Mark Fox