Move Over, Kids! Original Club Mama Susanne Bartsch Has Still Got It

Last night at Greenhouse, Swiss-born Susanne Bartsch―doyenne of the original club kids―threw her annual toy drive. A gentleman decked out in silver spandex, moonboots and a sequined tank top was too tired and sweaty from dancing to talk but there was plenty of Ms. Bartsch's old flock that would―about their hopes for nightlife, now that $1,200 bottles of Cristal might be a harder sell. 

First, though, scenester Brandon Olsen―who was wearing Christmas tree-lights and a fur jacket―wanted to clarify something. "I'm not an old, old club kid, but a medium old one," he said. "The recession will help, underground parties happen in harder times." The Daily Transom asked Mr. Olsen if his fur was real. "Yes, definitely, I think it's Muppet!" he said.

A man wearing a tiara―German designer Kia Kuhne―came over to give Mr. Olsen a hug. "Susanne is one of the great pilers--how do you say, German speaking columns," he struggled for the correct term. "She is a Teutonic pillar of the community!"  

Club dandy Patrick McDonald―wearing jodhpurs and his signature painted-on beauty-mark―agreed that things were looking up. Adjusting his Russian fur hat, he said, "Everyone will need to escape more, and this all about escaping."

"I always try to sneak into Susanne's parties, " Andrew Kaminski, a 26-year-old ballet dancer, explained. "I want to find out how they did it." The Daily Transom averred that it was probably the cheaper rent. "You're probably right," he agreed.

As the night wore on and the DJ's pumped up the Janet Jackson and Prince remixes, the costumes got crazier. A man wearing a four-headed zebra mask tried dancing with a man in some sort of hood and robe ensemble. "It's a welder's mask from Thailand," the latter related.      

Ms. Bartsch finally appeared with her flamboyant co-host Kenny Kenny as dozens of flashes went off. Mr. Kenny, a vestige of the 1980's downtown demimonde in a Regency shirt, elucidated his nightlife philosophy over the din. "I think it has ruined by money," said Mr. Kenny. He continued by rephrasing the famous political epigram: "Ultimate power and money corrupt, and absolute money and power corrupt absolutely." He had special contempt for bottle service. Did he miss the old days? "Getting older is harder--my eyes are going. I miss that freedom but I don't long for the past," he said with a sigh. Then he perked up a bit. "I still dress up!"

The Daily Transom was finally able to buttonhole Ms. Bartsch for a few minutes as she was stepping outside. "It's too cold outside, dahling," she said in her Zsa-Zsa Gabor-like accent, and came back inside. She is in excellent shape. (Ms. Bartsch is married to gym owner David Barton.) "Showtime, I look good at showtime, Frankie and Chahlie does my make-up," she explained. Then, twirling around to show off her sequined spandex for the some photogs, she added, "I always have Gaultier."

We chatted about her parties. "Last week people were going crazy, they were getting naked--it's a little early yet," Ms. Bartsch said. "I love this pahhhty, the fusion of the people. And the size! I can see everyone and don't have run around." Is it as wild as it used to be? "No not at all, its much less, I have a little done with the drugs. I haven't seen anything tonight, have you?" The Daily Transom shrugged and Ms. Bartsch swigged on a bottle of French water. "You can do what you want with music, if it has an edge."

Talk turned to her teenage son, Bailey. Is he about to hit the circuit? "Oh my God, yes. He's 14. There was a Halloween pahhhty, he was going to pay to go. I say babe that's no good. Be correct, don't pay," she said with a sigh. "Ah yes, Bailey, the high schoolers have pahhhties." With that, the Daily Transom was shunted aside for some more photos.

The tanned and muscular Mr. Barton was close behind her. "When I was young it was great to go out, now when my son wants to go and have a good time I just feel bad. It's all kids on cellphones in restaurants." The Daily Transom asked him if his son would be a club kid--given Ms. Bartsch's Auntie Mame-like influence. "He can do whatever he wants, if he's happy, I'm happy, but he used to come to these parties when he was five, and he was like, Daddy, I want to go home."