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Oh for another of those epic dance party nights

POLLY GILLESPIE

Sitting in the chair at Chop, my favourite hair joint, I found myself listening in to the conversation taking place between Josh, the eternally youthful and quirky senior stylist, and his client, a handsome silver fox.

They were discussing fragrances through the decades. As fragrance is one of my passions, I listened closely. I learned that Rive Gauche, a fragrance my mother adored, was the first of the feminist fragrances. I still have some somewhere, most probably way beyond its best-by date. According to the client, it was the perfume that announced to the world that women were bold, and strong, and could armwrestle any man in the boardroom.

He was absolutely on point. Rive Gauche could knock your socks off from 30 paces. It didn’t smell of flowers or candy. It had notes of money, power, and bold sexuality.

I am effusive about the history of fragrance, but this guy was a master. As we moved simultaneously to the basins, the conversation turned to him speaking of his coming out to his mother in the 90s, and how her response had been ‘‘Darling, are you doing this because it’s fashionable?’’

I smiled to myself, but at this stage was yet to leap into the conversation. It wasn’t till he mentioned ‘Devotion’, that I could contain myself no longer. I practically squealed ‘‘Oh, Devotion! I remember Devotion!’’ and worked my way into the chat. I can still smell and taste the Red Bull and vodkas that kept me slightly p... d and slightly pumped at the same time. They were synonymous with Devotion, the biggest, gayest party in Wellington.

Each year I’d grab a mate, generally straight, and head to a party where gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender would dance the night away with us ‘straightos’. It was before anyone identified as binary or pansexual, so the LGBTQ fitted easily on the ticket stubs, and it was relatively easy to converse without that added pressure of having to correctly use they and them pronouns which, although entirely just, would have been difficult to self-monitor after three Red Bull and vodkas.

We came out of the 80s having marched, mourned, and grieved through the Aids epidemic that had stolen so many of our queer stars and friends in Wellington and overseas. We put away our candles and quilts, and it was time to party.

Auckland had its Hero Parade and party: Wellington had Devotion – the biggest party every year for nearly all the decade. It was unapologetically loud, proud and fabulous. By its very nature it got bigger and more carnival-like each year. One was held in a barn-like building on Taranaki St, where a full French carousel sat in the middle of the dance floor, with drag queens in full regalia going around and around all night long. My favourite, though, was at Civic Square and the Town Hall. I took my husband’s best friend, who loved to dance (my husband was a strict no-dancing guy) and we partied till at least 3am, and by party I mean danced like super freaks, drank Red Bull and vodkas, and copious amounts of water.

Thinking about it causes a wave of melancholia to wash over me. Sadness, also, that cramming thousands of people together in a glorious, jubilant sweaty harmony seems impossible now. As the party got bigger, so, apparently, did the need for more and more extravagance, but gosh, Wellington was so cool back then. We seemed to be the city that embraced diversity.

The days of Devotion are long gone, and life is virtually on hold, but my word, I want a Wellington like that again.

I want a city that prides itself on ‘Pride’ and being the coolest little capital in the world. I want an Absolutely Positive Wellington, not the dreary, burnt-out ‘Let’s Get Wellington Moving’ tedium.

Next weekend I might head to the famous S&M’s bar, run by the always fabulous Scott and Mal, two of Wellington’s finest queens.

I may have a Red Bull minus the vodka, and chat away to them about the good old days of Devotion and diversity in all its hedonistic glory. Then I might wander home and be in bed before midnight – and dream of tottering about dressed as an angel, on ridiculously high silver stilettos, and dancing till dawn.

‘Wellington was so cool back then. We seemed to be the city that embraced diversity.’

NEWS

en-nz

2021-11-21T08:00:00.0000000Z

2021-11-21T08:00:00.0000000Z

https://stuff.pressreader.com/article/281706912940371

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