In an effort to ensure I don’t get fat, happy & fundamentalist by only looking at one city and it’s scenes, I’ve decided to start branching out and trying to hit places outside of Gotham where I can see how other cool people do cool things. This weekend, by way of a very dear friend, I was able to check out a sweet, underground electro-swing party in Boston. As I moved past the standard, fist-pumping, lite-beer-swilling, Avicii-spinning (that last one is new) Irish bar the front room of the bar contained, I pondered on eventual fist-fights between party-goers. Wherever my mind was going,by the time I’d checked my coat and paid my tab, It had gotten sidetracked by the Charleston and St. Germain cocktails by Macchu Pisco.
I’d like to say that there was something kitsch about what was happening, or that NYC does/did it better in the 90’s, but I can’t. It was an honest-to-God swing dance party with fun DJs and cool people. Vests, pocket watches, a liberal dollop of fedoras, shiny shoes, fast moving feet, girls spinning like tops and a respectable amount of martini glasses ensured there was no posing or biting in this crowd. The group wasn’t as cocky or flashy as what you’d find at a scene party in Gotham, but people also approached nervous others on the perimeter of the dance floor to ensure they shook their butts to the retro-amazing as well. Something I’ve never seen at a party in NYC, the varsity dancers approaching the JV with a confidence and warmth I didn’t think possible, and I’ve been checking out dance floors since the Clinton years. Continue reading