There was a new function at the junction of Sunset and Santa Monica boulevards when first-time event planner JOHNATHON VASQUEZ organized the inaugural QUEEN OF SILVER LAKE PAGEANT AND FASHION SHOW. The all-day affair went down in the parking lot below Manzanita (formerly the Detour): Local designers such as AUGOGOWEAR worked their wares, and live acts performed, including GEOFFREY KAREN DIOR and TEXAS TERRI (pictured), who rocked and rolled (literally) in the dirt. Vasquez, who overshot his fund-raising goal threefold in what is to become a regular spring thing, turned proceeds from the event over to Alegria House, which helps low-income families affected by AIDS. Judges for the contest, which featured a Miss Eager Beaver category, were local drag dolls CANDY ASS, the CHANELL TWINS and FABULOUS PHYLLIS, entertainer COCO PERU, rocker BRIAN GRILLO, actress ANN MAGNUSON, actor ALEXIS ARQUETTE in boy drag, and pornsters MICKEY SKEE and SHARON KANE, plus larger-than-life hostess JACKIE BEAT, who told the crush of East- and Westsiders, “There are no losers tonight, only pathetic sisters who’ve failed to win.” Celebutants in attendance included Glamourpuss of Hollywood’s TAWNY FEATHERSTONE, Cherry’s BRYAN RABIN, Warner Bros.’ ORLANDO PUERTA and trans-thing VIDA DeVILLE. The crowning of the queen came with a surprise twist: Out of a field made up mostly of fab faux femmes, the winner turned out to be a real dame by the name of EDNA FAYE HART. But the boys didn’t seem to mind. After all, a beauty pageant without a little scandal is like a drag queen without balls.

—J.V. McAuley

Rumper Room!

The gals from Hollywood’s THE VELVET HAMMER put the fun in fund-raising, throwing a fabulously fleshy fete to benefit their trip to New Orleans, where hundreds of grinding girlies — including New York’s “world famous” *BOB* and troupes with names like “The Devilettes” and “Memphis Confidential” — will gather this weekend as part of the first annual Tease-O-Rama burlesque convention. Among those ogling the scantily clad retro babes wiggling and jiggling on a tiny stage were Extra Fancy’s BRIAN GRILLO, White Trash Wins Lotto king ANDY PRIEBOY, former Pik-me-upper TAWNY FEATHERSTONE, performance-art tart RON ATHEY and Hammer alum ANN MAGNUSON. At “$3 for cheapskates” and “$5 for big spenders” (the latter were entered to win a limited-edition Velvet Hammer poster by 8 Ball comic king Dan Clowes), the sultry soiree was a bargain, with DJs SEÑOR AMOR and PRICKLE spinning groovy ’60s sountrack-style beats that kept the floor full between va-va-voom-y vignettes from MICHELLE CARR (a.k.a. “Valentina Violette”), HALLE PICKERING (a.k.a. “Honey Corday”), RITA D’ALBERT (a.k.a. “Ursulina”) and ANNIE SPERLING (a.k.a. “Luv Cañon”) — the last two actually lost their pasties in their unbridled undulating frenzies. The Big Easy may be seeing more tasty ta-tas in the next couple of days than it does during all of Mardi Gras.

—Lina Lecaro

Be Still, O Booty

A higher order of disco ball casts lapidarian discs of light on the floor of AKBAR’s spare new performance space; recently that was enough to distinguish the area from the adjacent bar, and turn the room into an appropriately dreamy setting in which to celebrate the release of JOHN METCALFE’s new record, The Inner Line, just out on the Black Box/Harmonia Mundi label. Metcalfe (pictured), a British composer who also performs with the Duke Quartet in London, plays viola and guitar over sequenced tracks assembled with the help of his colleagues. His mellifluous electronica pulls equally on the limbic system and gut, and it made one — us, anyway — crave to fill the tiny space with physical expression. Alas, a rave this wasn’t. Other than the odd bobbing head or bowing upper body, Metcalfe’s crowd made Beethoven night at the Hollywood Bowl look like a dance party, and so we kept it mostly to ourselves. Photographer PHOEBE SUDROW showed up briefly and indulged with us in a few pliés; actor JUAN FERNANDEZ and dancer-actor TAD COUGHENOUR confided later that they felt a similar compulsion. But even the naturally stationary emerged happy. We suspect that Metcalfe’s cascading and converging lines of music contain secret code to enchant the brain’s beta waves into submission. In a good way.

—Judith Lewis

Butt, Officer . . .

An assortment of dildos and poppers, a manicure set (and it wasn’t for your finger- or toenails), and a custom-fitted leather vest were the cherriest items not auctioned off at TOM’S BAR, the Tom of Finland Foundation’s 10th annual fund-raiser, held this year at the FAULTLINE. The late TOM OF FINLAND and DURK DEHNER started the foundation in 1984 to promote and educate the public about Tom’s homoerotic art. The party was shut down by the LAFD and the LAPD for overcrowding before the silent auction could finish, but after artist JOE SMOKE, photographer ED DE LA TORRE, club impresario PAUL V, painter DOUG COX, porn star/rocker JOE ROMERO and lighting designer RAND RYAN got to enjoy such sexy games as “Put the condom on the (live) porn star.” “They should have known they were gonna get busted,” opined P.O.V. Casting Agency’s DOUG MANGSKAU, on hand looking for fresh talent. “There were way too many people inside. Maybe they were getting greedy.” Dehner, head of the foundation, says that the organization was simply unprepared for such an overwhelming response. “A disgruntled patron called the Fire Department, so they had to come and see what was going on,” notes Dehner, who adds that the LAPD “closed down the street so that our patrons could cross Melrose Avenue safely.” Many were disturbed by the police presence and began chanting “Remember Stonewall!” Somehow, we doubt that there were that many breezy buttless chaps, leather hot pants and latex codpieces at Stonewall. Melrose hasn’t seen such a daring display of fashion in at least 15 years.

—Marcus Kuiland-Nazario

LA Weekly