We called it The House of Five Gables and stayed put for three summers. Instagram wouldn't launch until a year after we left, but once it did we could observe in real time what happens when a Pines landlord caters to the quarter-share market, renting to four different groups a month: lots and lots of parties, coupled with rapid deterioration of the amenities. The interior--which included a baby grand piano!--is stripped of its quirky charm, a reflection of the former owners' ungepatchke taste, and wooden, cushioned lounge chairs give way to the plastic kind.
I particularly loved this flag.
The hot tub, however, did survive. My sunglasses caught the reflection of the setting sun, a premature metaphor for my tenure in the Pines, which would last another 13 sumers in two more houses.
2008
Shortly after throwing a substantial portion of the house's kitschy teapot collection into the Great South Bay (appalling, especially for a guy who embraced Crocs from the get-go!), Patrick discovered how a diva could make best dramatic use of a fairly wide and very long bulkhead.
Randy embraced the runway strut. And no wonder: at 52, he never looked better.
For the first time in more than a decade, we had spectacular sunset views without ever leaving our deck.
Was sun-averse Chris the first person to commute to the Pines from Pakistan?
He and Steven always take a good picture.
Andrew really, really rocked a wig, British Invasion style.
Our collection grew to include one his sister-in-law bought to camouflage the effects of chemo therapy. We referred to it as the "cancer wig." She recovered.
Randy and I thought he looked like Rula Lenska in this one.
Most of our guests, including Rault (far left) and Andrew (in pearls) never missed an opportunity to put on a cocktail dress designed by Thom (white tank top). Andrew, the founder of N2N Bodywear, always brought samples of his latest creations which he deposited in a bowl on the living room table, first-come, first served. Truth be told, I was more amenable to a plunging neckline than a pouched thong.
I took this jubilant photo of Sue, Chris and Thom from inside the Ascension Party on the beach.
Randy's posse kept getting younger, including a new, dewy recruit named Richert whose eventual transformation into the embodiment of "masc" definitely would have seemed counter-intuitive at the time.
2009
Mateje emerged like a demented butterfly from a soporific cocoon during our Drag Summer. He's giving Suzanne Pleshette here.
Each of Mateje's looks became more outrageous than the last
. . . culminating in a Phyllis Diller resurrection, minus the cigarette holder, that failed to resonate with some of our younger housemates or foreign guests who never caught her act on the television variety shows of the '60s and '70s.
Thom also brought suitcases filled with so many of his slinky creations that we could dress according to whim. Steven veered from off-the-shoulder femme fatale
to Coffee, Tea or Me?, yet another reference that dated me.
Andrew (later and still his husband) let loose in other ways.
Patrick could go from demure
. . . to fierce with just a wig change. Cue (I think) "And I'm Telling You I'm Not Going."
Marty, however, radiated the realness--if not the bitchiness--of a Pines housewife.
Meanwhile, someone had to devil the eggs (once a house mother, always a house mother!). Florian, always the bearer of thoughtful gifts, brought me this apron from the Art Institute of Chicago.
No one loves to dress up more than he. Drag made him Schatzier than ever. I had given him that nickname because it's how my father always referred to hot frauleins when we lived in Munich and Heidelberg.
Schatzi was no slouch when working the runway in free N2N swimwear. That's a silver star on his crotch.
But he also used his resourcefulness to help others realize their runway dreams, too,
. . . flapping a beach towel to create a wind-blown effect for Steven on a still, sultry day.
We were SO on trend. Although Ru Paul's Drag Race had premiered only the February before, Mateje was ready to take her latest look to the Invasion where she could score free drinks without having to ride the ferry from Cherry Grove as these glamazons no doubt did.
Chris killed among the geopolitically-minded set with his imported-for-the-occasion burka. Mateje had no time for traditional Muslim wear.
Neither Richert nor I had been quite ready to go public in our frocks
. . . although we both got into the margarita-fueled spirit of things back at the house.
Ebullient (just a fancy way of saying really, really lit), but scary. Very scary!
There were quieter moments in civvies, too.
Varick introduced us to Ted, now his longtime companion--never bitten by the Pines bug--who had served in the Coast Guard
. . . and with help from his guest Andrew--and imported "cow"--he added Beef Wellington to our usually pedestrian menu.
Magda, my goddaughter, made her first adult visit to the Pines with Joe, her new boyfriend. If you think the drop earrings made an impression, you should have seen his cut-off jeans! While officiating at their wedding five years later I referenced the night they "danced ecstatically with me and my friends as the Black Eyed Peas sang I gotta feeling tonight is a gonna be a good night.” Joe had asked: why isn't dancing at straight clubs this much fun?" Perhaps because not all eyes there were upon him!
Some of our guests were a lot more random, including one whose name I didn't catch. I believe Victor had met him on Grindr, then a brand new dating app.
No doubt Kissy Poo was looking for an invitation to crash overnight. It wasn't forthcoming but his revenge must be sweet: he's probably still in his thirties!
A fire burned down several houses not far from where Victor eventually would buy his own home.
On some nights, it looked as if the bay itself was bathed in flames.
Honestly, much of the summer remains a blur. The blender was going constantly. And we got almost as much mileage out of this platinum wig that someone purchased on 14th Street along with much of the costume jewelry.
Lamont and Ryan, members of Randy's posse who had begun dating at Harvard, later married. And then divorced, with one forced to continue paying down the cost of their expensive wedding for years afterward. So smart, yet so dumb.
Was it unkind of me to tell Victor he looked like a truck stop tranny? Yes, I know it was definitely politically incorrect but this was well before the Awakening . . .
Michelle, now Andrew's former sister-in-law, was our only female housemate in my 34 years of sharing in the Pines.
She and Schatzi, however, did bear a resemblance when wearing the same wig.
This giddy runway shot became the cover for a book of photos (so analog!) I made to commemorate our Drag Summer. (Wo) Man, did we ever have a good time--it's among my top three favorite seasons!
2010
The next and final summer at the House of Five Gables brought two new additions: Grayson, the newborn boy whom Patrick and Marty were able to adopt more quickly than anticipated, and Curtis, now sadly gone.
Drag seems to have taken a back seat to the baby monitor, or perhaps I just got tired of photographing a bunch of drunken queens. Nevertheless, it appears from the date of this shot that I did make my debut at the Invasion, channelling my mother. But I recall dancing in heels one night at the Pavilion with Thom in the same outfit with much greater detail because of mother's little helper (although Mary preferred downers) and going home with blisters on my feet that took more than a week to heel. It was worth it, too: I'd NEVER before been the center of attention on the dance floor.
And there was impromptu drag after the Ascension Party where I drank up the courage to invite Eric, a longtime French crush and perhaps the most outrageous flirt in the Pines, back to the house for cocktails. Varick had once brought him back from tea for dinner and more.
Bitch stole my dress! Mine reminds me of a line ad libbed by Maggie Smith in Gosford Park. "Difficult color, green."
We also established an enduring tradition over the Columbus Day weekend, our last in the house, which we called Pines Thanksgiving. Mataje decreed the dress code. It didn't stop her from multitasking with Grayson.
