Strip Tea Redux

The San Francisco Tea Party that became a legend

You know how hard it is to get good service nowadays.

Chivalry is a corpse, discretion is unheard of, and bohemian elegance—where did it all go? A well-bred woman might spend her maturity never once hearing the words "May I be of service to you?"—although she may spend her life waiting on others, particularly children and men.

Such a predicament could make strong women weep and gnash their teeth, but when the going gets tough, the tough throw a party.

A very unusual party.

My dear friend, comrade and caterer extraordinaire, the late Tom O’Conner. Photo by Michael Rosen.

In the summer of 1991, (check that date for me!) I received an invitation to attend a salon of women artists. We were offered an occasion to read aloud, sketch, and indulge ourselves in a very proper high tea. Most intriguing of all, the invitation promised we would be served our scones and punch by naked slaveboys who would not speak unless spoken to.

The aspect of social nudity was of course titillating, but would ord…