Virgin Tripping
i finally made the virgin pilgrim to istanbul’s famous club of xx chromosomes, quite a paradox to sexual fluidity so perhaps i should say ‘xx-xy-yy-yx’. i hardly frequent gay clubs for one it’s too punk a scene, often filled with seventeen year olds seemingly eye-lined with thick tip marker pen or forty seven year olds (who drag with mustaches) donning harley davidson leather jackets - theme party stuck in seventies.
but the scene is changing (and i heard the same for back in the motherland), where power suits and studded heels are slowly but surely gracing the affair. so we waited, one hour pass, then two hours, then two and a half when a group of alpha types sashayed into the club, bringing new york (or san frans) to istanbul.
a friend said “i want to live in the l word” - the one show that has single handedly distort my perception of beauty.
i’m not a snob, just a femme fan.
