The esthetic is decidedly matronly and has little to do with anything most dudes are interested in an East Village gay bar. Let’s face facts, it DOES look as if someone’s spinster aunt (you know, the one who studied two years of architecture before moving in with the gym teacher) took over after a weekend at the Brimfield Flea Market. And everyone seems to have gotten the gist of the “new vibe” at Phoenix. Keep in mind – he has not said anything anti-lesbian. And anyone familiar with Lux know he is as anti-discriminatory as can be. Tee-Hee…Time to lighten up! Anyone familiar with Lux’ humor will recognize the sarcasm. Imagine how the patrons of Henrietta Hudson's would feel if new owners came in and redid the place with motorcycles, cars and Tom of Finland posters?Īnd if people are concerned with unflattering decorating stereotypes, take it up with the decorator! I had nothing to do with it. And now, no music? They need to control that too? Why does this neighborhood bar have to be turned into some cozy, Catskills breakfast nook? There are fewer and fewer places in this city where gay men can go to be in each others company, throw back a few and talk with out milk jugs, sewing machines and pretty princess powder blue walls. What I do have a negative opinion of is the conscious choice to homogenize my favorite local drinking spot. In fact, I'm this far away from fathering a child with one.
I don't have a negative opinion of lesbians at all. I rag on the twink boys and their purses, transients, frat boys and OMG girls in flip-flops and myself far more than any random lesbian joke I may have made. Anyone who has come to know my sense of humor for the past 5 years on the neighborhood blogs knows I am an equal opportunity offender. You guys are taking this post way too seriously. Here to stay are the finest eBay deals on authentic set pieces from Ted Danson’s personal collection from "Cheers." If ever there were a Jersey Turnpike Bennigans patiently awaiting its passport to the Isle of Lesbos, the new Phoenix is undoubtedly it. Gone are the blood red walls and dark orange ambient lighting. The bottom line is that one of the area’s last remaining gay bars has been transformed into a lesbian brunch fantasy that probably should have been left in Cherry Grove or possibly in the dorm room of the Sarah Lawrence fantasy from whence it came. I wasn’t there long enough to use the loo so I don’t know if they painted over the shark in the bathroom.
On the plus side they refinished the floor so it no longer smells like vomit and beer and the pool table is still there. Gone are the peanut/candy machines and the ledges that held the HX magazines and postcards for gay-related events and such.
New tables include two milk jugs with a board on top (?) and an old-fashioned sewing machine (?). They painted the front of the bar a sky blue and plastered the walls with all of the clichéd and junky signs the Catskills has to offer. They took out the Galaga arcade machine and the jukebox - genius move taking control of the music away from the patrons. I went to the Phoenix Friday night for the first time since their new makeover and though the changes aren’t dramatic, it feels like the cast of "Trading Spaces" has been hard at work.