The Devil Girl went down to Portland.
May. 29th, 2023 11:06 amWhy have I been quiet on here the last few days? Because I took the train down to Portland, Oregon for the Vampire Masquerade Ball! This was my fourth time going, with the previous time being in 2019, and it's lost none of its excitement for me. Read on for gothy goodness. I wrote an outline.
Things didn't exactly start auspiciously when I woke up around 0400 Friday, headed for the bathroom in the dark, and tripped over the suitcase that I'd forgotten I'd put there. I hit my face on the edge of a wall, thereby leaving a long, neat line of broken skin from my cheekbone to my chin. I count myself lucky that I didn't break my nose. Hey, maybe it helps me look more devilish.
Having iced my face, I made it to the train with plenty of time to spare, which wasn't hard because it was delayed by "unplanned track maintenance". And then, a little over halfway to Portland, the conductor informed us that there was a disabled train with no power for A/C (!) and that we were going to go back and rescue it. We ended up arriving in Portland about two hours late. Luckily, the person I most wanted to meet up with –![[profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ack_yeahright – was on the train with me.
As always when the two of us get together, there was overindulgence. This time it was both eetz and drinx. Portland is a better restaurant town than it has any right to be given its size; my companion informed me that it's because there's a culinary school there. In any case, the Green Room gets full marks from me. My only complaint is that the portions were just a tad too large for me.
We hit Moxy, which I belatedly realized is a hotel bar. Think the W in Seattle, only gayer and with more space. We drank nice drinks, some of them fruity. There was a third place thatack_yeahright took us to was one that she'd said earlier was a biker bar, but when we walked in there was a long line and obvious gentrification. Welcome to Portland. That's when we called it a night.
Slept insufficiently. Then hit Powell's City of Books and consumed badly needed carbs & caffeine. For those of you who've never been to Portland, this is what you must do when you go to Portland. I ran into Comfy Lady in the café, who was down for a show. I looked for new issues of my favorite comics series, but ended up with a used copy of The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo. Met up withcupcake_goth! I will confess that the chance to see her was very high on my list of reasons to be in Portland at all. She's back to emceeing the VMB for the first time since I was there last. Happiness.
Also there: someone I will label here as Frog Lady. She likes frogs. Her hair is green, as are many of her accessories. She's one of these people to whom I took an instant liking, but I unfortunately see her only once in a purple moon. She says that her health no longer permits her to get out and about much. Even ten years ago I didn't see her often. Too damn bad.
Napped. Praise Goddess!
Hit Toki, a Korean joint a few blocks away. Even shortly after 1700, which is when they open, they were mobbed, and for good reason. Their veggie noodles were amazeballs, and since I was at the bar I saw lots of artful cocktails under construction. (I just had some local rice lager, which tastes like... lager.)
Put the Devil Girl outfit on. Walked the three blocks to the Portland Art Museum, which was manageable even in my cloven-hooved Fluevog Grand Nationals. Chatted with an adorable apparent trans boy who'd come from Minnesota (!) for the VMB. Found a seat at the table withcupcake_goth, Froggy Lady & her beau, plus K and her brand new hubby. K deserves a goddamn paragraph.
K is an actual, factual fashionista who makes a dynamite outfit every time she goes to the VMB, which is more often than I do. This year was no exception. K loves to dance, and the way she'd weighted and reinforced the high-low skirt on that dress made it move, well, oh my. And she had this... collar, not exactly a ruff, made of boned black lace that stood straight up to the height of her head in back. There's probably a word for such things that I don't know. It was perfect for the event. And remember, this is the umpteenth outpouring of wearable creativity that I've seen by and on her since the mid aughts at the latest. It doesn't hurt that she's also really hot. Ahem.
And speaking of unfairly attractive women, when I was down in the vendor room there was a tall, slender woman with short, blonde, kinda gay (Foreshadowing!) hair who walked in wearing a stunning cream silk dress with wide red ribbon draped asymmetrically as trim. In that sea of dark clothing, even gorgeous dark clothing, it stood out like a beacon. I went up to her and complimented her on the dress. A minute or two later I was in the middle of the room with Frog Lady and Other K, when they mentioned that that was [Real first name]. Then the penny dropped.
"[Real full name]?" I asked. "Vienna La Rouge?"
Affirmative.
"Shit. Shit!"
Back in the aughts, before the Great Recession knocked out the Vogue, on Wednesday nights I used to go there and hang out with Vienna. She's a truly lovely woman in every sense. The last I heard, she left Seattle and her husband to pursue her burlesque career – for she's one of those good enough to make a career of it – in the Bay Area. I missed her.
At the VMB, I had to talk to her again. I explained that I hadn't recognized her the first time, and I had to explain to her who the hell I was. (Since she last saw me I've acquired purple hair, boobs, and hips.) She said that it wasn't too surprising that I couldn't recognize her with the much shorter hair. You see, she figured out that she's a lesbian. Oh, and she's moved back to Seattle.
There was a silent explosion in my head. "Welcome aboard!" I said.
She likes to hang out at the Mercury, she said. You know I do too. Our favorite night is Saturday. It kills me a little that my next two, maybe three Saturdays are spoken for. Oh by the way, she had a date. Yes, the date and I made prolonged eye contact at one point.
Back at the table I said tocupcake_goth, "Vienna La Rouge is back in Seattle and she's gay. Kill me before I do something stupid!"
"Go forth and sin, my child."
"She brought a date."
The esteemed MC appreciated my dilemma.
Indeed, Temptress told me later that night with great disappointment in her voice that Vienna is monogamous and has found someone good for her. And just to ice this cake, she says that V and I share the same unusual tastes that I don't write about in unlocked entries.
I talked to V again briefly after they turned on the house lights, pretty much reiterating what I said about the Merc. I must see her again, if only to confirm what Temptress told me. Oh. My. Goddess. Just think of what's happened with me since the last time I saw her: I started living as a woman, discovered the (ahem) unusual tastes, moved back into the city proper, etc. I can only imagine what's been going on with V.
By the way, Vienna La Rouge is a crack seamstress, like many burlesquers. There's an excellent chance that she made her dress, too.
I got flirted with by a woman – yet another crack costumer with a fella – who'd met me at Funny Lady's. I remembered her mercifully unusual name, but I hadn't recognized her. This was actually the third face blindness experience I had that night. Vienna and Other K were the other two.
There was only one dark spot to all of this:jengalicious's ex, who was there with Temptress and even on the same trains as I was. He kept turning up like a bad penny, at one time even sharing a hotel elevator with me. (Temptress seemed to have a knack for getting away from him for long enough to talk to other people who didn't want to go near him.) He's surely aware that he's despised by the whole Seattle contingent with the exception of his girlfriend, whom I've warned about him. Just as I was leaving the hotel, I saw Shiny H, who told me about her reason to hate him, which has nothing to do with the ones that the rest of us share. The man is truly a walking trash fire.
I did see Shiny H & girlfriend G, the latter of whom had never been before, during the event, but they bailed uncharacteristically early due to H's health issues. Sadness.
One more restaurant: the Daily Feast. It's a brunch joint, Portland style, meaning hot gay boy waiters and müsli pancakes with chai. I was lucky to get a seat at the bar when I did. Also yummers.
Tried reading my book in the shade by the public library to kill time before I got on the train, but people on the street made it weird. I went back to the hotel, said a final goodbye to folks and called a ride share to the train. (I later found out that I could have taken the light rail. Next time.)
The train home was zippy and uneventful. If all goes well, it's really the best way to get to & from Portland from Seattle.
Earlier yesterday I'd toyed with the idea of going to Flammable, Seattle's long-running house music night, because it's a long weekend here in the US of A. Hahahaha. No, I unpacked, crashed, and got eight hours of sleep for the first time in about a week.
This trip exceeded expectations, which were already pretty high.
Things didn't exactly start auspiciously when I woke up around 0400 Friday, headed for the bathroom in the dark, and tripped over the suitcase that I'd forgotten I'd put there. I hit my face on the edge of a wall, thereby leaving a long, neat line of broken skin from my cheekbone to my chin. I count myself lucky that I didn't break my nose. Hey, maybe it helps me look more devilish.
Having iced my face, I made it to the train with plenty of time to spare, which wasn't hard because it was delayed by "unplanned track maintenance". And then, a little over halfway to Portland, the conductor informed us that there was a disabled train with no power for A/C (!) and that we were going to go back and rescue it. We ended up arriving in Portland about two hours late. Luckily, the person I most wanted to meet up with –
ack_yeahright – was on the train with me.As always when the two of us get together, there was overindulgence. This time it was both eetz and drinx. Portland is a better restaurant town than it has any right to be given its size; my companion informed me that it's because there's a culinary school there. In any case, the Green Room gets full marks from me. My only complaint is that the portions were just a tad too large for me.
We hit Moxy, which I belatedly realized is a hotel bar. Think the W in Seattle, only gayer and with more space. We drank nice drinks, some of them fruity. There was a third place that
ack_yeahright took us to was one that she'd said earlier was a biker bar, but when we walked in there was a long line and obvious gentrification. Welcome to Portland. That's when we called it a night.Slept insufficiently. Then hit Powell's City of Books and consumed badly needed carbs & caffeine. For those of you who've never been to Portland, this is what you must do when you go to Portland. I ran into Comfy Lady in the café, who was down for a show. I looked for new issues of my favorite comics series, but ended up with a used copy of The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo. Met up with
cupcake_goth! I will confess that the chance to see her was very high on my list of reasons to be in Portland at all. She's back to emceeing the VMB for the first time since I was there last. Happiness.Also there: someone I will label here as Frog Lady. She likes frogs. Her hair is green, as are many of her accessories. She's one of these people to whom I took an instant liking, but I unfortunately see her only once in a purple moon. She says that her health no longer permits her to get out and about much. Even ten years ago I didn't see her often. Too damn bad.
Napped. Praise Goddess!
Hit Toki, a Korean joint a few blocks away. Even shortly after 1700, which is when they open, they were mobbed, and for good reason. Their veggie noodles were amazeballs, and since I was at the bar I saw lots of artful cocktails under construction. (I just had some local rice lager, which tastes like... lager.)
Put the Devil Girl outfit on. Walked the three blocks to the Portland Art Museum, which was manageable even in my cloven-hooved Fluevog Grand Nationals. Chatted with an adorable apparent trans boy who'd come from Minnesota (!) for the VMB. Found a seat at the table with
cupcake_goth, Froggy Lady & her beau, plus K and her brand new hubby. K deserves a goddamn paragraph.K is an actual, factual fashionista who makes a dynamite outfit every time she goes to the VMB, which is more often than I do. This year was no exception. K loves to dance, and the way she'd weighted and reinforced the high-low skirt on that dress made it move, well, oh my. And she had this... collar, not exactly a ruff, made of boned black lace that stood straight up to the height of her head in back. There's probably a word for such things that I don't know. It was perfect for the event. And remember, this is the umpteenth outpouring of wearable creativity that I've seen by and on her since the mid aughts at the latest. It doesn't hurt that she's also really hot. Ahem.
And speaking of unfairly attractive women, when I was down in the vendor room there was a tall, slender woman with short, blonde, kinda gay (Foreshadowing!) hair who walked in wearing a stunning cream silk dress with wide red ribbon draped asymmetrically as trim. In that sea of dark clothing, even gorgeous dark clothing, it stood out like a beacon. I went up to her and complimented her on the dress. A minute or two later I was in the middle of the room with Frog Lady and Other K, when they mentioned that that was [Real first name]. Then the penny dropped.
"[Real full name]?" I asked. "Vienna La Rouge?"
Affirmative.
"Shit. Shit!"
Back in the aughts, before the Great Recession knocked out the Vogue, on Wednesday nights I used to go there and hang out with Vienna. She's a truly lovely woman in every sense. The last I heard, she left Seattle and her husband to pursue her burlesque career – for she's one of those good enough to make a career of it – in the Bay Area. I missed her.
At the VMB, I had to talk to her again. I explained that I hadn't recognized her the first time, and I had to explain to her who the hell I was. (Since she last saw me I've acquired purple hair, boobs, and hips.) She said that it wasn't too surprising that I couldn't recognize her with the much shorter hair. You see, she figured out that she's a lesbian. Oh, and she's moved back to Seattle.
There was a silent explosion in my head. "Welcome aboard!" I said.
She likes to hang out at the Mercury, she said. You know I do too. Our favorite night is Saturday. It kills me a little that my next two, maybe three Saturdays are spoken for. Oh by the way, she had a date. Yes, the date and I made prolonged eye contact at one point.
Back at the table I said to
cupcake_goth, "Vienna La Rouge is back in Seattle and she's gay. Kill me before I do something stupid!""Go forth and sin, my child."
"She brought a date."
The esteemed MC appreciated my dilemma.
Indeed, Temptress told me later that night with great disappointment in her voice that Vienna is monogamous and has found someone good for her. And just to ice this cake, she says that V and I share the same unusual tastes that I don't write about in unlocked entries.
I talked to V again briefly after they turned on the house lights, pretty much reiterating what I said about the Merc. I must see her again, if only to confirm what Temptress told me. Oh. My. Goddess. Just think of what's happened with me since the last time I saw her: I started living as a woman, discovered the (ahem) unusual tastes, moved back into the city proper, etc. I can only imagine what's been going on with V.
By the way, Vienna La Rouge is a crack seamstress, like many burlesquers. There's an excellent chance that she made her dress, too.
I got flirted with by a woman – yet another crack costumer with a fella – who'd met me at Funny Lady's. I remembered her mercifully unusual name, but I hadn't recognized her. This was actually the third face blindness experience I had that night. Vienna and Other K were the other two.
There was only one dark spot to all of this:
jengalicious's ex, who was there with Temptress and even on the same trains as I was. He kept turning up like a bad penny, at one time even sharing a hotel elevator with me. (Temptress seemed to have a knack for getting away from him for long enough to talk to other people who didn't want to go near him.) He's surely aware that he's despised by the whole Seattle contingent with the exception of his girlfriend, whom I've warned about him. Just as I was leaving the hotel, I saw Shiny H, who told me about her reason to hate him, which has nothing to do with the ones that the rest of us share. The man is truly a walking trash fire.I did see Shiny H & girlfriend G, the latter of whom had never been before, during the event, but they bailed uncharacteristically early due to H's health issues. Sadness.
One more restaurant: the Daily Feast. It's a brunch joint, Portland style, meaning hot gay boy waiters and müsli pancakes with chai. I was lucky to get a seat at the bar when I did. Also yummers.
Tried reading my book in the shade by the public library to kill time before I got on the train, but people on the street made it weird. I went back to the hotel, said a final goodbye to folks and called a ride share to the train. (I later found out that I could have taken the light rail. Next time.)
The train home was zippy and uneventful. If all goes well, it's really the best way to get to & from Portland from Seattle.
Earlier yesterday I'd toyed with the idea of going to Flammable, Seattle's long-running house music night, because it's a long weekend here in the US of A. Hahahaha. No, I unpacked, crashed, and got eight hours of sleep for the first time in about a week.
This trip exceeded expectations, which were already pretty high.
