Imagine if you will a nightclub with a bigger light show than the Hayden Planetarium. The owner of the Saint was a savvy theater producer, Brad Mailman, who truly loved curating the experience. The DJ's there were unbelievably gifted at leading and reading the crowd, this is where the continuous music mix started. I had been to every club in NY already, on every guest list, etc...but not the Saint. Tiny teenage mind blown, POV of a semi-straight girl hanging with the boys on a Saturday night. I was probably one of the only girls at the club, no one cared, and I was just there to dance my ass off. A transcendent disco party that ended at dawn and would be dissected over breakfast at the Kiev on 2nd avenue & 7th. Usually followed by a quick shower and a puppy-pile-napfest on the Jitney to somewhere sandy, salty and sunny.
On one night, I went with my dear friend Jenny and her childhood friend, Bill. That night was amazing. Bill, a drop dead gorgeous beacon of joy, newly out, and sprung from Westchester for the weekend. So much attention for a 17 year old boy, you took it in stride and saw through most of it. It was the kind of night where the music was so good, you only drank water to stay hydrated, we just wanted to keep dancing, our faces hurt from smiling.
Happy Birthday, Bill, you would be 50, instead you're frozen in our collective memory as a stunning, butch blonde dude. Somehow I just know that there's a great circuit party going on in heaven, with an unbelievable light show, the hottest guys and the best DJ's.
Oh! Wow, we were here!
(c) Francesca Prada 2015