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Club Kids
Rocking with the new music of the 1980s night.
On the stairs, Michael Alig, a slight young man with a skinny bow tie, red-and-black suspenders, and blacking under his eyes (if it weren’t for the football-player touch, he’d look like candidate Paul Simon left too long in the dryer), is offering drink tickets. The Babies are members of Lewis Lapham’s “equestrian class,” connected by wealth, geography, 12 years of private schools, and what seems like ages of parties — at Studio, at Xenon, at St. A’s (the Columbia fraternity), at Area and the Surf Club, and now here. Her crowd, she says, is “into visuals,” and tonight the Savage dance floor is a circus: Cleavage is much in evidence, and so are eyebrows, painted over with black pencil, drawn an inch above the normal height, or outlined with zippers to add a surreal touch.
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