(More are available online here, to benefit the Hetrick-Martin Institute.) Instagram the next day groaned under the weight of a thousand shaky, adoring videos. There on the bar, in the blue bob from the video, a corset top with NOT MY PRESIDENT spelled out in studs on the back, and a mesh shirt of no overwhelming modesty, she launched into “Hung Up” and “I Don’t Search, I Find,” before turning auctioneer, selling off signed Polaroids of herself to guests to benefit the Ali Forney Center and Haus of Us.
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(A teaser clip of the full video is below.)īut when God cums, she cums to sing. Fighting, believing in yourself and who you are, and, you know, being strong,” Gomes told me. “The video has a message that she’s been fighting for since the beginning of her career, which is freedom.
Just before she took to the Boom Boom bar, it screened at the Standard too. At 10 p.m., it screened over Times Square, on NASDAQ’s giant displays. It’s the theme of the video she created with Ricardo Gomes, the photographer and creative director she elevated two years ago from a behind-the-scenes shooter on her Madame X tour documentary and brought into her entourage to be her unofficial photographer, and the director Sasha Kasiuha. Fear? Tonight, they had nothing to fear but the door line itself.ĬOURAGE is Madonna’s message, slipped on with her new baby-blue hair. (The other rumor: It was so difficult to get to the bathroom that people relieved themselves in their cups, one of the hazards of an open bar.) On giant screens around the perimeter of the Top of the Standard flashed sans-serif instructions - RESIST, NO FEAR, COURAGE - in bloody red, a strident call arms to REBEL with ACT-UP era graphical urgency. Upstairs, the press to the bar was so sweaty and close, the various VIP zones so strictly cordoned off that many people gave up and took refuge in the other club on top of the Standard, LeBain, or up on the roof from what I heard, many weren’t let back into the inner sanctum. (“Hi, gay!” one reveler chirped to another as I approached.) June comes but once a year, and the pride this Pride, after a year inside, is strong.Īscending to the front was a mix of gay- and gay-adjacent celebrity - Indya Moore and Andy Cohen and Hari Nef and Anderson Cooper and Adam Lambert and Bowen Yang and Zachary Quinto and most of the past season of RuPaul’s Drag Race - as well as the skater turned actor, Evan Mock, who is straight in real life but plays less so on the reboot of Gossip Girl. It was a (mostly male) mass of metal-mesh tops, visible thongs, and the kind of obliques that are worried into deep-grooved submission by multiple daily gym visits. Downstairs, the door was a madhouse of frantic texting to get in. “This is the first time I’ve been to a fucking party with people.”īut that was later: There were hours of pent-up nightlife FOMO jostle to get through before that. “On a positive note,” she said when she finally appeared striding the bar in leather boots, sometime past 1 a.m. And truth be told, God seemed as exultant as any of the rest of us to finally get out of the house. Would she sing? Her faithful fans crowded outside the door of the Standard High Line, desperate, after months and months away, to cram maskless into elevators to go up to the Boom Boom Room on the 18th floor. “God is Cuming,” Madonna had posted three days before she was going to be there. It was the Standard’s post-pandemic Pride Week party, with DJ sets by the Misshapes, Honey Dijon, Kaytranada, and disco god Eli Escobar, but by Thursday night , everybody thought of it as a party for, by, and about Madonna.