Fire Island Pines

Fire Island Pines is presented as a summer gathering place where social life moves between the Boardwalk, neighboring houses, parties, and late-night excursions. Over two consecutive days, the diary records both the public bustle and the private rooms behind it: a Hawaiian party, visits to Calvin Klein’s house, an unexpected encounter with adult-film performers, and a night when most of the group rose again after going to bed. The place’s character emerges through these changes of scene and the people who gather there.

Houses, Visits, and Parties

On July 31, the diarist arrived at the Pines and called Calvin Klein’s house from the Boardwalk to say that Chris Makos was visiting for the day; the visit was approved. Only Chester Weinberg and David Geffen were awake when they arrived, and after breakfast Calvin Klein and Steve Rubell joined them, discussing the previous night. The diary then follows the group to a Hawaiian party at Gil de la Cruz’s house down the street. Egon Von Furstenberg was the only person there the diarist recognized. In the daylight, the diarist found that people and even the dogs looked different from how they did at night, including a dog thought to be the one from a Breakstone television advertisement.

The party gave way to a pizza outing, which cost $20, and then a return to Calvin Klein’s house. The visitors walked in on Calvin Klein and Steve Rubell with the adult-film performers Knoll and Ford, felt embarrassed, and left for Gil de la Cruz’s party again. The next day’s account reveals another instance of the houses’ limited privacy: Chester Weinberg had walked in on two men who told him to go away, and he was hiding in his room when the group gathered again. These brief interruptions make domestic interiors part of the social scene rather than a retreat from it.

The Night’s Rhythm

After returning from the party, the group ate barbecued steak and talked late into the evening. The diarist characterized the conversation as intensely gay in subject and tone. Around midnight, everyone went to bed but set alarms for 2 a.m., anticipating that the night’s social activity would peak later. The diarist heard the others get up, stayed in bed, and later heard them return from a 4 a.m. cruise. The contrast between the ordinary bedtime and the scheduled return to nightlife gives the Pines a distinctive temporal rhythm: the night is not over when the party ends, but resumes after a short interval of sleep.

Morning and Conversation

On August 1, the diarist woke in a downstairs maid’s room in the Pines and spoke with Jim, the houseboy, who wanted to become a dancer. After getting red from the previous day’s sun despite the grey weather, the diarist applied sunblock. David Geffen was again part of the day’s social circle. The diarist read aloud to him from Indecent Exposure, opening to a passage about Geffen, then spoke with him at length. Geffen described his father’s brassiere business and his own earlier proximity to Danny Fields’s circle; he also knew Nico from the period when she was with Leonard Cohen. Conversation turned to Geffen’s new Donna Summer album, which had received an exceptionally strong review and was expected to earn him $2.5 million by the end of the week. Later, the diarist stopped briefly at Gil de la Cruz’s house, where Diane von Furstenberg was present; the diarist suspected she had lent fabric for the Hawaiian party.

Across these entries, Fire Island Pines is not described through landscape or formal boundaries but through access, movement, and encounter: a call from the Boardwalk, houses within walking distance, shared food, rooms entered unexpectedly, and a night divided between sleep and cruising. Its social texture is conveyed by the diary’s shifts between party spectacle and ordinary details such as sunblock, a houseboy’s ambition, and a book read aloud.