“If you look down and see confetti and peanuts, you know you missed the parade,” my college buddy host said, shaking his head at my decision to miss the event, one of the best parties on the planet. But I’d spent two great weeks crewing on, Skate, his Valiant 37 sailboat, from Fort Pierce to Key West. Leroy Thomas, the fabulous zydeco accordion player I’d heard in early October at the Café des Amis in Breaux Bridge, Louisiana, was playing in my turf on Saturday. I wanted to be there. It was time to go home.
The American Airlines agent at Key West International Airport fished a Fantasy Fest brochure from her bag to show me what I would miss by leaving on Friday October 23.
The event brochure’s claim “Mortals beware… Fantasy Fest is calling all Villains, Vixens, and Vampires! Sink your teeth into ten days of tantalizing temptations, and outrageous events that are sure to leave a bite mark. There are over forty Fantasy Fest events that will quench the thirst for excitement, bizarre, and the provocative,” and the agent’s smile did register. But I’d seen a bit of the town, how good could this party be?
Three days later, during a daylong cold rainstorm at home in a suburb of Boston, I booked a flight to Key West. It was time to throw confetti and eat peanuts.I bang away this missive from below deck on Skate, moored in Garrison Bight, one of the harbors that surround Key West. It is midnight. And hot in the cabin. We’ve just dinghied back from town and I’ve witnessed enough levity to float the Goodyear Blimp. I need to write about it.
It
Events have been going on day and night inside the saloons on Duval Street. Outside, however, is the place to be. Everyone going anywhere is out here tonight. It is about 80 degrees and humid.
I don’t have the inclination to compose in orderly paragraphs. Every circuit breaker in my mind accustomed to the norms of decorum in New England is blown. In the spirit of this southernmost town in the US of A, I excuse myself and go with the first draft.
There are hundreds of nearly naked people roaming around here. Men and women are walking up and down Duval Street with decorations on every anatomical appendage they were born with. There seems to be one rule. Genitalia regalia for women should (operative word) be covered by a triangular patch the size of their triangle. For him, a thong or breechcloth or a toga or a leetle towel or silky kiltie to conceal the family jewels.
Exposed flesh is not a requisite. Many costumes are elaborate. Captain Morgan swashbuckles down the street. Mary Poppins skips. There are far more spectators than participants. Everyone is having fun. This is the French Riviera with a sense of theater.
The first few minutes of walking down Duval Street I felt like a paparazzi trying to snap photos of near naked celebrities. The epiphany came when I pointed my camera at an oncoming Eve. She stopped dead in her tracks and offered a saucy pose. A photo? Of course!
Couples, groups, and individuals (un)dressed for the occasion expect attention. Inhibition? Naahhh. That’s why they’re here. Confined to a wheelchair? Charge the battery!
Women wearing body paint and a smile sashay down the street. In my next lifetime I want to become a body paint artist and live in Key West. Want a photo opp? Ask and the subject obliges with a smile. Want to get in the photo? Sure thing. Hand your camera to another photographer and put your arm around the obliging subject. A swarm of photographers of both sexes flash away.
Beauty standards are blown to the wind. Shapes, sizes, colors, and ages are in parade mode. Couples from twenties to sixties strip down or costume up. Some would never grace the pages of any cheesecake or beefcake magazine and that is the glory of this. The street belongs to these revelers as much as to the centerfolds.
As an astute observer I can say that major impact factors are carriage and attitude. Give me an “I own this street” fifty year old whose body shows signs of gravity over a slouchy twenty something firm body. If you’re out here in all your glory, you don’t want to walk the same way you’d push your cart down aisle six of the Winn Dixie.
People showing off their costumes in Captain Tony’s take photos of each other. There’s a wet T shirt contest at Sloppy Joe’s but the best action is right on Duval Street. Stay in one place for an hour and you’ll see every damn partier in town.
This place is all lighthearted attitude. Have lots of public nakedness and things can get complicated. The only thing complicated in Key West Fantasy Fest is which nearly naked person to admire.
Nudity is often associated with pornography. During Fantasy Fest in Key West, being near naked is an art form, lighthearted entertainment, and good old-fashioned fun. You’d think eyeballs would fall from their sockets from the strain of leering. Doesn’t happen.
When Key West cuts loose, it drifts with a playful sensual sense of fun and flaunting. This has to be seen to be understood. Luckily I am here to report this to you.
You don’t have to have a gorgeous body. Attitude goes a long way to improve whatever gifts nature has given you. Out of the way Margarita-ville, here comes Attitude-ville.
The good times are just beginning, three more days to go.
PT,
Hubba, Hubba, looks like a blast...
Svenska
Posted by: Gerard M. McMahon | November 07, 2009 at 06:52 PM
Nicely written. I love the first two sentence intro.
Posted by: Rebecca | November 08, 2009 at 09:49 AM
I saw all the photos. Wow! I was thinking about how I would dress walking
tall with my walker. Clearly you are someplace having a good time. It's so interesting how attitude and posture and presence are so valuable.
Posted by: Alice | November 08, 2009 at 09:53 AM