In the mid-'90s, it was just another neighborhood of the kind that flourished throughout South Florida in those days: brown lawns sporting the occasional junker car, houses from the '60s and '70s that would have been pretty if only somebody had painted them, mom-and-pop businesses flashing in and out of business along Wilton Drive and, for some reason, two Bible/Christian-paraphernalia stores. Wilton Manors was not always a fabulous place to live. They recognize what paydirt looks like when they see it: It's driving a silver Beemer heading right toward them. And the old favorites Johannes, Saporissimo, Fran's Chicken Haven, and Gary Woo along with a bunch of gourmet markets from Whole Foods to Kings aren't going anywhere. Respectable chains like Nick's Fishmarket of Hawaii, Seasons 52, Trulucks Stone Crabs, and Chops Lobster Bar are setting up shop. Bucky's is purveying serious barbecue, MoQuila has a list of specialty tequilas, and there's some of the best Asian fusion around at Fah. Brit celeb-chef Angela Harnett is opening Cielo at the Boca Resort this year, and two excellent coal-fired pizza ovens Red Rock and Coal Mine are practically within spitting distance of each other. The roster of restaurants that opened in the past year or survived their first couple of seasons is practically freaky, from classy additions like Bova, Opus 5, and Café Joley to Bogart's at the Muvico Palace Theater. Unless you're dining in Boca these days, practically the only eating of any consequence you're going to be doing is swallowing your own bitter words. You can make fun of the $5,000 boob jobs and the codgers hopped up on Viagra, but while you've been sniggering, Boca Raton has thrown open one fantastic restaurant after another. "You know, if somebody wants to have a threesome, they'll just come up and ask you politely." "The crowd is the most respectful and friendly crowd, better than sports bars or anywhere," the regular says.
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So the great thing about people-watching here is that the people don't mind you watching, especially the performers like the two dancers who showed up in matching gas masks connected by a tube, or Rubberella, who might make an appearance wearing a clear plastic outfit and goggles. It's not uncommon for someone to have dropped $1,000 on a latex outfit or to show off her new customized catsuit. They have themes such as "Apocalypse" or "Tribute to Bettie Page," and attendees take the dress-up requirement seriously. In fact, Fetish Factory parties are more like fashion shows.
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That's precisely the thing that keeps out, say, the pervy tourist in Spandex but brings in the young professional who just likes to walk around in a (rather tasteful) ball gag from time to time. Although there's a good dose of near-nudity at Fetish Factory parties, the company's point of distinction, actually, is its dress code.
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"So women have to have the electrical-tape X's covering stuff up, and for men, a banana hammock is perfectly acceptable attire as long as the banana stays in the hammock." Funny but not quite accurate. "Nipple laws and genital laws are in effect," one regular says, describing the Fetish Factory's monthly Alter Ego parties.