
“Club kid” Charlie Sue Birznieks is shown in her element. (Credit: Matt Weinberger)
Meet Charlie Sue Birznieks, otherwise known as @prettylovecharlie on Instagram.
Her username oozes glamor and allure and her profile picture shimmers through the screen. It is a sultry portrait of Birznieks, splayed across a red velvet chair swathed in black feathers and rhinestones.
Scrolling through her photos and videos, Birznieks, a 21 year-old native of Los Angeles, whips her hair in and out of her face, keeping her motion fluid with a sly smile.
She is a modern rendition of what journalist Amy Virshup described in 1988 for New York Magazine as a “club kid.”
After coming to New York for a degree in communication design at the Fashion Institute of Technology, Birznieks left school to pursue dance full time. She performs professionally and is currently touring the U.S. with the pop music and performance art dance group Little Miss Nasty.
Birznieks also works as a part-time host at a few New York City nightclubs, including actor Paul Seveigny’s ultra-popular Paul’s Baby Grand in the hip Tribeca neighborhood. The work consists of dressing to impress, giving each establishment its life and getting customers onto the dance floor. In some cases, patrons come to Paul’s just to see her.
Birznieks happened upon this work the same way she does it: by having a good time and captivating her audience.
“When I first started going, I would go there just to dance on the speaker,” she said, reminiscing about her early days at Paul’s. “A girl that worked there, Kacey, asked me if I ever wanted to host.” Birznieks grins and raises an eyebrow. “You’re going to stand out if you’re giving a free go-go set on the speaker,” she said.
Hosting or working as a professional “club kid” has been a longtime New York institution. Breaking into the public consciousness in the late 1980s to the early 2000’s, the original club kids were a group of young enigmatic party hosts circulating New York’s downtown nightlife until Rudy Giuliani sterilized the scene in the name of “decency.” Known as the “first influencers,” club kids were known for their recognizably striking look and extraordinary social gravitas. Whatever nightspot they went to, or party they were hosting, became the place to be.
Names like Amanda Lapore and RuPaul came to prominence through their involvement with the club kids of the 1990s. They each had their start in nightlife and went on to become cultural icons in their own right. RuPaul now hosts a reality show after his namesake RuPaul’s Drag Race. Amanda Lepore remains a performer, model and cultural icon in both fashion and New York nightlife decades later.
The book, “New York: Club Kids: By Waltpaper” by former club kid Walt Cassidy, visually chronicles the lives and escapades of the professional partiers, and how the group dominated the city’s nightlife through the last decade of the 20th century. On any given Friday night, at of-the-era downtown clubs like Tunnel and Limelight, club kids hosted parties, made appearances, and drew audiences until early hours of the morning. The Cassidy book characterizes club kids as part of a “fashion-conscious youth movement that crossed over into the public consciousness through appearances on daytime talk shows, magazine editorials, fashion campaigns and music videos.”
This is to say, a club kid’s persona is and was their claim to fame, to influence. The same is true for today’s club kids.
Birznieks’ costume and presentation are vital for her expression. What she wears has everything to do with how she feels. “If I’m having a bad day, I’m not going to let that bleed into my work, but how I am feeling can show up in my fashion,” Birznieks said. “Sometimes I wear pajamas. Sometimes, my pleaser boots. To me, being eccentric is being able to get in touch with the energy that’s flowing through you.”
On a recent Thursday, Birznieks posted in large type to her Instagram story: “Come down to Paul’s Baby Grand @11.” In the photo, she was dressed in a bedazzled costume with hair swept around her face. The message was clear: head downtown to Paul’s Baby Grand.
A few decades past Giuliani’s sweep on New York nightlife, Paul’s is chic, young and open till 4 a.m. It’s the perfect place for club kids to work their magic. The walls are splattered with pink paint and pictures of palm trees hang at odd levels, bathed in red light.
The main thing: It’s hard to get in.
That’s no surprise to any New York clubgoer who knows about the strict aesthetic evaluations involved in nightlife. Patrons are expected to show up looking fabulous in order to inch past the bouncer at Paul’s. But, as a club kid, Birznieks doesn’t need to play by these velvet rope rules.
Paul’s is Birznieks’ spot and under all of her Manhattan “cool,” she has a beating heart.
“Pretentious Manhattan nightlife can be really stuffy. Really, nightlife isn’t about looking nice, it’s about having a persona,” she said. “At Paul’s, the intention of the club is pure.”
On this Thursday night, club goers dressed in their finest rags, wait behind the velvet barrier, trying to get the attention of a wild-eyed doorman. He adorns a coat with a patch depicting a woman bent over.
This is the spot that Birznieks has to make come alive tonight, starting at 11 p.m. sharp.
“Usually, I’m running late. I show up, and bring all my friends in. If the club is empty, we will have a dance-off. Then, I will pour my friends watered down tequila, but I don’t usually drink,” she said. “I am sober a lot of the time at the club. A lot of people use nightlife as an escape but I want people to use it as a return.”
Her sobriety is a departure from the generation of club kids before her. It’s also in line with a growing trend in the United States, dubbed the “sober curious movement.” According to a report from Gallup, only 58% of Americans drink today, the lowest since 1996. Sobriety has entered the nightlife space in a big way, especially in New York, with clubs and bars that cater to non-alcoholic nightlife popping up around the city. Party hosts like Birznieks are helping to usher in a new era of clubbing.
Paul’s is a popular spot for New York University students and other college-age patrons. Inside, they swarm the bar and the DJ booth in tight circles. The hosts are dressed strikingly different to the club’s guests, easy to spot from across the dance floor. Tonight, each host was dressed as a sparkly pirate, wearing pinstripe bikinis and fishnet scarves around their waists, with killer cat-eye looks and matching hats. The young women circled the dance floor and the DJ booth to make song requests and chat up customers.
Birznieks always enjoys facilitating the mood in the club, although she occasionally misfires.
“One time I made the DJ play Rage Against the Machine,” she recalls. “Everyone fled the club.”
Tonight, Birznieks was in high spirits. She was dressed in the Paul’s Baby Grand club kid uniform and laughing with a few patrons as she whipped her hair in circles, and rolled her hips and shoulders to the beats of the DJ.
Birznieks is a magnetic host and sees the club as its own little world.
“Each night is a completely different ecosphere,” she said. “You have a role in that ecosphere and how the club operates. Everything is kinda methodical. I think I am really good at my job because I can kind of see that.”
Paul’s has a key element, crucial to any successful nightclub: the raised surface for dancing, otherwise known as the giant speaker that sits beside the DJ decks. This allows the partiers, or Birznieks, to elevate themselves and make an appearance in front of the crowd. To dance and feel the lights on their face. It’s the perfect place to insert any needed energy, and make sure people stay excited.
Cue Birznieks.
About the author(s)
Madeleine Cronn is a current MS student at Columbia Journalism School who writes on culture and the arts.