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Dinah Shore virgin

Dinah Shore virgin


A British sister gives us the lowdown on her first trip to the mother of all lesbian events: the legendary Easter weekend golf tournament in Palm Springs, Calif., that retains the name of its patron saint

I'm an English girl and had never been to Dinah Shore weekend before, so I was by far the most excited of the 12 friends I was going to Palm Springs with at the end of March. They figured I thought it would be like a glamorous L Word in the desert, and since they were a little jaded about the whole affair, they assured me that in fact it would be all running bras and board shorts.When we arrived on Good Friday afternoon, the party had clearly started without us! As we drove through the car park of the Riviera resort--Dinah Shore weekend headquarters--groups of girls crowded onto the hotel balconies, screaming and waving at us as we went by, and women spilled out of SUVs with weekend bags and bottles of booze in hand. The lobby was packed with slightly toasted women in bikini tops and shorts (presumably overflowing from the poolside and hotel rooms) as we picked up our press authorizations from the festival organizers, Los Angeles's Girl Bar and San Francisco's Club Skirts.Everyone seemed excited, and there was a certain sexual tension in the air--a good omen for the weekend, I felt. As we weren't staying at the hotel, we headed for our friends' condo on the edge of the Palm Desert Country Club golf course to unpack our bikinis and get tarted up for the White Party at the Doral resort later that night.The Doral had two big party rooms--the main room with dance music and go-go girls, and a country-music room where someone had gone a little crazy covering everything with black-and-white cow-print fabric, including two giant cowboy boots! When we arrived at 10 P.M., couples were already slow-dancing to a country ballad. Luckily, a while (and a few cocktails) later the party really picked up, and we ended up dancing for hours under the hot dance floor lights that were a little too close for comfort.As we looked at the digital photos the next morning in reverse order, starting from sweaty and disheveled at the end of the night to much more cute and put-together at the beginning of the evening, I realized that fake snow had descended on the dance floor but I had missed it since I was in the lengthy queue for the bathroom at the time.The next night, after we got a little more tan from a day by the pool, it was back to the Riviera for the Saturday night "Moulin Rouge" party. The venue is much more sprawling than the Doral, as proved by the fact that we never found three of our friends! The corridors between the hotel lobby, rooms, and conference center were full of girls all night. One girl was leaning against a wall and pointing at women walking by: "You're're cute...she's hot..." (I wonder if she finally settled on someone!)The conference center opened into two smaller rooms--'70s and '80s disco in one, and the casino in the other, both only moderately popular. I was beginning to think that lots of people had stayed home with hangovers or something. Then we discovered a giant ballroom where the enormous chandeliers on the ceiling contrasted sharply with high platforms covered by scaffolding--home to six go-go dancers--and a dance floor filled with what seemed like about 5,000 women.That night I saw a ton of really cute girls (don't tell my girlfriend I said that) with all kinds of different styles, and I didn't notice a single running bra, just to let you know! At about 1 A.M. the go-go dancers took a break (risking life and limb to come down from on high into a lustful crowd), then Inaya Day ("Horny," "Nasty Girl") came onstage to perform three songs. The performance was hugely spiced up by a tenacious fan who managed to get up onto the stage to dance with Day four separate times, only to be comically tackled by security each time and thrown back into the crowd.The party was still going when we left to drive back to Palm Desert at about 2:30 A.M.So here are the statistics of my first Dinah Shore weekend:

  • Number of prep hours (packing, shaving, plucking eyebrows, self-tanning, checking self out in mirror in bikini): 8
  • Number of friends who came with: 12
  • Number of lesbian golfers seen: none!
  • Number of golf balls accidentally hit into the pool or side of condo in one day: 5!
  • Number of dollars won by me in the drawn-out poolside poker game: 21
  • Number of margaritas drunk: 2.5 pitchers, give or take
  • Number of other cocktails: countless
  • Number of celeb sightings: 2 (Honey Labrador, looking amorous with a blond chick; and a girl from Melrose Place in sexy lingerie)
  • Number of hours sleep over three days: 6
  • Number of times I got hit on: 10
  • Number of white wifebeaters seen: about 10,000
  • Number of girls in board shorts seen trying to chat up clearly straight Finlandia Vodka girls in knee-high suedette furry lace-up boots: 2 (Hope it worked out for you girls!)
  • Number of bruises received by girlfriend: 3, including 1 major lump on forehead from being accidentally punched in the head while breaking up a fight at the White Party
  • Number of rehydration liters of water required: about 10!
  • Number of hours spent in the car: 7
  • Number of people you can get into a Mini Cooper on way back to L.A.: 4, but luggage has to travel separately
  • Number of after-weekend recovery/Tivo-watching hours: 6 (got to catch up on The L Word!)
  • Number of pounds gained when alcohol sugar turns to fat: at least 5
  • Number of trips to Dinah Shore planned for next year: 1!

In short, I had a great time, and I can't wait to head out there again next year. Hopefully my jaded friends will come too!

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Katherine Mantle