Invasion of the Booby Stuffers
Despite being a mostly male population, it’s no surprise that a visitor to the island will find a disproportionate amount of high heels and wigs. But it might be a surprise that these accessories aren’t just for the resident trannies (love you DJ Lina!!). When taking a trip to the Pines, it’s pretty much a matter of time before someone breaks out the heels…and generally that time is after a few low tea cocktails. In the blink of an eye, or bat of a fake eyelash, you’re suddenly doing a Sashay, Shante, twirl, kick, pose, turn, crawl, snarl, catwalk, Tyra Banks, broken down baby doll. Well, maybe not the first time up, but definitely by the second. The fact is, on the island pretty much anyone will channel his inner diva just for kicks, high and low.
So it’s definitely a sight to behold, and worth paying extra for the primo holiday weekend, when every 4th of July the Pines experiences what’s simply known as “the invasion.” It’s safe to say that today there’s a love hate relationship between the Pines and Cherry Grove, but it hasn’t always been so warm and fuzzy between the two. At least now there’s some love. In the 1970’s drag queens were a large part of the Cherry Grove experience but frowned upon by some in the Pines community. In the summer of ’76 one drag queen was denied service at the Botel, a former Pines hotel and restaurant. Upon hearing this, some local trannies planned to descend upon the Pines in a show of solidarity. Stealing a page from of George Washington, who attacked the British on Christmas day, the revolutionary trannies staged their invasion on Independence Day. While it was a great surprise to the residents of the Pines, there was no battle, and the only bloodshed came from anyone in heels trying to maneuver the boardwalk after a few cocktails. The small group of trannies was actually welcomed with a warm hugs, major snaps, and a few “oh haaaaay”s.
Little did they know this would become an annual event, where every 4th of July a group of drag queens board a water taxi in Cherry Grove and heads over to the Pines. And the number of trannies participating has ballooned (who says trannies can’t reproduce?). Now they pack themselves in by the dozens, braving the rocky seas with weaves, make up, and accessories fiercely in place. And they are welcomed with huge crowds of buff boys, leather daddys, trannies in training, and every other kind of lgbt islander. This is the genius of the annual party. In a group where there’s sometime a little too much division, this event like no other brings together every kind of queer. For a day we forget which kind of gay we are, enjoy one of the best bashes of the year, and are free to tap into our own part time tranny.
