BAROQUE WITH EXPENSIVE TASTE
Excess and escapism at a decadent DIY ball
Hi sweeties, sorry I’ve been a little constipated! The pipeline of this newsletter got a little clogged while I was spiraling down New York’s rave rabbit hole—sacrificing sleep and sanity while circling the nightlife autonomous zone also known as Bushwick, Brooklyn. I was hoping this party pilgrimage would be a journey of healing, transcendence, unity—pump me with that PLUR baby!—but unfortunately, reality turned out to be more messy: it’s like I marched into the mouth of hell (Myrtle-Broadway), stuffed my nasal cavities with ketamine, and got sucked into a vortex of drugs, drama, and derangement that’s whirling around the center of the rave scene.
The essay I’ve eked out from New York nightlife’s churning vortex of dark euphoria is called DANCEFLOOR DYSPHORIA and I’ll be dropping it for paid subscribers only, because this shit is too spicy for the public, period!
Huge hug to everyone who has supported Rave New World over the past year—I was finally able to pay my rent with subscription revenue this month, a major milestone that gives me the courage to lean further into this gonzo project. In coming months, I’ll be reporting on nightlife and drug scenes in more cities around the world, releasing exclusive rave bangers, interviewing my brilliant friends, and just popping this shit off even harder than before.
I love how my brilliant friend/loyal sub Julia Bosson puts it:
“I feel like what you’re doing with these newsletters is trying to capture the texture of existence right now—in its jagged, conflicted, and deeply visceral experiences. I’ve been thinking so much about ‘fun’ and what it represents in a larger existential sense, especially right now, when it’s been weighted with so many complicated feelings in relation to the last year of lockdown/getting older/feeling more despondent about the world. FUN IS STILL TRANSGRESSIVE. And that does come with a political awareness—the understanding of what it means to collectively heal and reconnect. Can’t wait for you to turn this into a book!”
(Thanks J <3)
OKAY moving on! I’ve been hiding out in Hudson for the past week, and on Saturday night, I grabbed my friend Angelina Dreem, a Brooklyn DIY legend who now runs a psychedelic campground in Hudson called Camp Dreem (more exclusive intel about this very soon!)—and we drove three hours through a thunderstorm back to the city. Our mission: to catch our sis Eartheater perform at the Baroque Ball—a black-tie party by a new-ish crew called Nosferatu that’s making waves in the scene.
The Baroque party theme felt particularly zeitgeist-y, in that the “decadence at the end of the world” vibe really matches the current tenor of our times: a mix of Roaring Twenties excess and French aristocracy froufrou against a background of pandemic strife and roiling social unrest. “It’s funny to look gaudy and feel rich with our unemployment checks when we’re actually just fucked,” said Angelina. “It’s like, we’re all heading for the guillotine… so let’s get dressed up!”
**plz share pics w credit: @angelinadreem for RaveNewWorld**
When we arrived in the pouring rain, the door situation was a mess—we almost didn’t get in because the power-tripping ex-cop security guards demanded to see my press pass and I flashed my Instagram instead lmao. Once we schmoozed our way in (we always do!) we immediately ran into Ledef, a Texas-based performer who is one of the kuntiest dolls in the underground, and knew the rest of the night was going to be fabbbb:
Eartheater’s set was enchanting the ballroom—“Something has possessed me,” she murmured under the flickering strobes before shivering into the celestial cloud rap from her latest goddamn masterpiece, Phoenix: Flames Are Dew Upon My Skin. At the final song, she stretched out her limbs and dove into the sea of children screeching for their queen, floating across the room like a sliver of aqua sea foam before disappearing into the churn of flesh.
After her set we caught her backstage for a closer look at THIS STUNNING LEWK
Honestly… the lewks were the best part of this party—you could tell that everyone was excited to put in the energy to craft a costume, to peacock, to see and be seen. If there’s one thing the pandemic has deprived us of, it’s the electric thrill of a strangers’ appreciative gaze.
Here are more of our fab friends serving Baroque decadence ~~ I’m not trying to be Page Six name-droppy here but you’ll spot legends like Signe Pierce, Gage Spex, Nina Carelli, and Raul de Nieves up in the mix:
Some (loving) critique: I would have loved for the party’s production levels to have matched the chic theme, but the Baroque Ball sometimes felt more like Broke Ball lol… shitty AC turned the rooms into boiling infernos that got too gross to dance, the VIP area was just a balcony despite VIP tickets costing ~$100, the lighting was meh, and a cocktail in a plastic cup was like $20…
But enough shade!
I am chalking these unpolished edges up to the fact that this crew just started throwing parties—and in the end, the crowd was fab, Eartheater and Ledef’s sets ate me out, and any new party crew always gets love from me because I am HERE for fresh energy in the scene. Especially now, when the future feels so bleak, and nightlife decadence is one of the only escapes that feels throbbingly visceral and romantic—if we’re all heading to the guillotine, let’s fucking eat cake!
Finally, here’s my lewk, serving Disney Princess before she turns into a pumpkin on shrooms:
That’s it babes!
Feel free to share and tag us (@angelinadreem + RaveNewWorld/@michellelhooq) — and please subscribe to make sure you don’t miss out on this sweet flow of underground nightlife content!
Till next time ~