photos and words by Dakota Fine
additional photos by Chris Svetlik
You, dear reader, had been long planning on attending the high heel race for weeks now. It’s one of those annual DC traditions that’s hard to miss. Perhaps the best DC has to offer in terms of street parties, and definitely the gayest.
But then the weather happened. Cold, wet, rain. Shitty. The kind of cold rain that makes you think twice about leaving your couch so that you can line up 17 deep on 17th st when you know that a million umbrellas are just going to crowd your view of the high heeled competitors strutting just a few breathless yards away from you. Well, as Svetlana said to me yesterday, if you could predict the weather based solely on the event itself, predicting rain on the eve of the high heel race, you’d be right most the time. After an exhausting weekend of comedy, dear reader, we don’t blame you for not being out there in attendance last night. That’s what we’re here for. BYT to the rescue. Allow us to deliver you, a dispatch fresh off the streets of the gay-borhood.
Despite the crappy weather, DC residents still turned out in droves for the spectacle. With all the usual suspects in tow, mayor, Paul Wharton, gays, photographers, the race was as it always is, a shitshow in the greatest sense of the word. Who knows who won? Not important, I don’t think anyone even keeps score, at least not for the running. For the fashion definitely, but not the actual finish line stats, honey please. Sports shmorts, is Heidi running? Didn’t think so. Work it out.
So since you missed it last night, opting for hot cocoa over Coco Chanel blazing past you in a fit of glory on the cold wet asphalt, come on a journey with us now and enjoy the queens of DC.
and we’ll close out with some by Chris