Like a white diamond catching light, the White Party at Vizcaya never ceases to impress with its multi-faceted beauty—and this year, the crown jewel of the circuit seemed to shine with extraordinary clarity.  From the moment the car drops you in front of the massive stone columns and as you wander down the dimly lit hammock (that hardwood-forested drive) toward the Italian renaissance palazzo, you enter the domain of doges and princes, inhabited by figures such as D’Annunzio and Gatsby (if not Trump).

Given this year’s theme, Heaven on Earth, the ten acres of lushly-landscaped gardens were punctuated with angels: on high (pedestals), as well as nearly-naked ones behind the cocktail bars.  Angel wings fluttered beneath the full moon.  Up atop the Casino, the sultry chanteuse, Nicole Henry, as lovely as Helen of Troy in a sleek white gown, sang jazz standards while croupiers manned gaming tables.  White leather daddies mingled with white-Afro’ed streetwalkers in white lace and white boas. A tribe of white-feathered Indians in white fur boots passed a pair of white tigers. White lights and white candles shimmered in the moonlit night. 

Playing his first White Party at Vizcaya in his long and illustrious career, Warren Gluck provided the perfect aural complement to such an idyllic setting—and even with ten acres of temptations (think white chocolate mousse cones and Snow Queen vodka), his dance floor remained packed with the likes of Randy Bettis, Hilton Wolman and Mel, Tracy Young, Michael Gongora, Wendy Hunt—as well as the statuesque Elaine Lancaster looking more glam than a brand-new Barbie Doll.  And upon plating his version of Bonnie Pointer’s “Heaven Must’ve Sent You,” Warren Gluck rendered the night’s theme even more palpable.

Late in the night, there appeared the platinum-haired Cyndi Lauper, a vision in white satin, ethereal and angelic, as she bopped around a giant bed onstage, delivering “She-Bop” with an almost elegiac quality.  Few performers have done as much publicly to fight AIDS and intolerance—and it was a joy to be enthralled by one who understands so well the LGBT community.

Every year, on the last Saturday in November, the treasures of Vizcaya—its gardens and colonnades, the statuary and fountains—seem to shimmer more brightly, thanks to CareResource and its volunteers, and to the thousands of White Party guests who don their elegant and gay apparel to party with the spirits of those who have walked these grounds before.  If ever there was any doubt, this year’s White Party at Vizcaya proved that angels do indeed walk amongst us.