This past Friday I was both honored and just a little bit offended to be chosen by Jason D. (sex journalist and klezmer clarinet giant) to accompany him to the "industry-only" official opening of the Alex de Renzy library at the Institute for Advanced Studies of Human Sexuality of San Francisco. I think I was the only one he could think of that would actually go with him to a place called the Institute for Advanced Studies of Human Sexuality, but that makes me a lucky gal! I've got to say that this was the most interesting party I've ever been to in a library.
I had been uninitiated to the magnum opus of Alex de Renzy, but apparently he is considered the "Cecile B. Demille of porno" for the 70's. After he died two years ago, a great deal of his memorabilia and films were donated to the Institute -- hence the huge, plastic-cups-full-of-Cooks gala.
Naturally, I hit this party undercover, as I am a master of disguise. And I brought the spycam. And a pen. And a note book. Really, you can't take me anywhere. I'm a huge weirdo. Even in a setting like this.
The first thing I noticed was how the majority of the party-goers seemed to be in their 60's. It didn't make sense to me until, after being there for a few minutes, a nice older woman pointed to a screen projecting a young woman in a sling being gang-raped ("Pretty Peaches" 1978) and exclaimed, "That's me!" I was amongst geriatric porn star royalty! Jason started to point out a few others in the room that could be recognized from their work on the screens. One of them was lifting her shirt, using her pendulous breasts to illustrate a point in her cocktail conversation. MOM! Stop that!
The Institute's library is a dark, labyrinthine mess of rooms of varying sizes. We wandered the stacks, picking out titles at random and accusing each other of it being their favorite book. Suddenly Jason and I found ourselves at a brightly lit doorway. A man that looked like he was about to sell us some insurance said, "Welcome to the Anal Room!" Here we learned that de Renzy entered an anal phase in the 80's, went by the name of Rex Borski and turned to video, churning out several anal-themed movies a week. Most notable title from the boxes on display: "Mocha Honey Tunnel." A screen in the Anal Room was playing out a scene of several couples with bad 80's hair going at it all over a rather banal couch in front of a Christmas tree. A young woman who had entered the room behind me gasped. "That's my family room!" This was de Renzy's daughter. I hope they got rid of that couch.
After that party, we went to after-party for a cabaret show, and then another party at an all-night speakeasy/sweater shop. You know, the usual.