Easter, part 2: egg decorating

Last week Kevin invited several of us over for dinner and dry run of his arbitration presentation. Kevin and Jorge (titled SF Leather Boy, former partner to Tony, and re-roommate to Kevin) had been invited to a very special Easter egg decorating party. Jorge described this party as off the hook and amazingly elaborate with. Knowing the lengths Kevin and I go to for party/set decorations and our occasional costuming, he knew this would be something I would love. However, only the hosts' A-list is invited, and to keep it so, and the number limited, the party is invitation only. This was fine by me as you know how much I appreciate a filter.

Kevin had to work during the party time, so Jorge suggested he "transfer" his present invitation to me and that I go with Jorge. Considering the build-up, I looked forward to the arts and craft show all week. Saturday was a busy, busy day, and I was glad to make it to the party. I planned to meet Jorge there, but he was so wiped out from his externship he decided not to go. As happy as I am in a party with a roomful of people I don't know, I am much less wiling to go to a party full of people I do not know and to which I was not invited. Not the worst of manners, but close.

But I was already in the neighborhood and I did want to see what the fuss was about, and surely, San Francisco being San Francisco and me being me, I would know someone inside.

I did not.

At least not initially. This was very much a bear event. A leather bear event. And a bit on the older, entrenched, utili-kilt-wearing, Uncle-Jesse-beard sporting big bear side. Feeling every bit the interloper, I have never been more grateful to have a belly and a beard. At least I could blend.

The house on the hill above the Castro was lovely, but as with many Victorians, there were no hallways and each room was small-- this did not make for any easy flow for a crowded party of big bears. ("This room is too small.")

The hosts were charming and welcomed me, and certainly did put out an impressive spread. I never made it as deep as the dining room, but they had two kegs on the patio out back (belly-to-belly bears and not navigable), and a beautiful buffet of Easter-egg looking Jello shots.

The host took the time to explain the flavors and contents every so often, and these were top-shelf, considerably complex, and entirely tasty treats.

They had maybe 50 dozen hard-boiled eggs, a dying table, and two tables of findings and trim and all sorts of items to apply to the eggs, including google-eyes, sequins, costumes, tiny props, and feathers. There were three hot glue guns.

dyeing table

findings and adornments

hot glue, glitter and feather station

And seriously, how gay is that caption?

There were some impressive eggs.

And a display area.

FabreGay eggs

And this one that was a golden sun on one side,

and a silver moon on the other:


My creativity was a bit stymied this afternoon, but I did try to use a wax crayon to batik a Tennessee flag egg. It didn't work out so well. Reversing the blue and red fields worked out better, and I was fairly sure no one would notice the difference.


Not that there was judging. This crowd was well past any sort of judgment in their lives.

I was welcomed warmly into this festivity, and enjoyed meeting some new people. I loved this guy's shirt which was designed by one of his friends who sold them though his blog at Live Journal. I forgot the guy's name/site though.

Suitably, a lot of the day was a hot tranny mess.

And while there were no gym bunnies, there were big bunnies of both fur

and chocolate.


And the highlight of the day was running into the super sweet Max, whom I had met on Super Bowl Sunday at Lance's. He's an old friend of Gay Greg's.


I called it an afternoon early as I had to get home and get to crafting my bonnet before going out into Klaus' last night stateside.

Reading that sentence again, I see that this whole Easter story is getting way way with the gay.

And it's only getting pinker.