"....We didn’t ever queue; they dressed up too damn well to queue, and they knew everyone. What was exciting was that half of them weren’t ‘trannies’, gay or even camp, but just flamboyant and doing it for the ‘scene’. They rolled in wearing tutus and man heels with their girlfriends tottering along behind, and then me, with my camera in bag and drink in hand. I felt like a female Paul Hartnett or an attempt at Christer Stromholm. But while Hartnett documented (probably a lot better than I did) and exposed, I tried to mystify and explore. It felt like a flashback to the high-glamour high-mayhem of the late 70’s and 80’s, like a Nan Goldin episode that I was living through. In my naivety I almost felt like a witness to Studio 54 but in 2008 instead of ‘78. ......."