From late 1994, to 1995, for about six months Myself and a group of people lived in a large house, in Bitterne Park; we called it the Mansion. To be honest I think that name was rather tongue in cheek. It may well have been a beautiful house at one stage, it was nothing but, when we moved in. The house was built in about 1901 and was Mock Tudor in its outward appearance. There was a large sweeping drive, up to the entrance, `with balcony above. There was a huge lounge, a dance room, a 1970s kitchen, bright blue with mirrored tiles. There were also five bedrooms, with a second kitchen upstairs and a lift. No longer working, but still there.
A group of us moved in, all gay. At the time I was about 24 years old and had just finished University. None of us were working, and we were just enjoying life. Actually a little more than enjoying, we were experiencing life in its full glory, to excess, without exception!
We moved in, in 1994, it felt a bit like a 'Gay Commune.' I suppose all of us had experienced discrimination at one time or another, and living together as a group of Gay men and women, felt like a good thing to do, sort of safety in numbers if you will. One always starts out with all good intentions, when setting foot on a new adventure. Generally those good intentions, remain just that, good intentions!
At the time, we had become heavily involved in the Southampton Gay Scene, and all that entailed! Excess in all areas of our life was usual. The 1990s on the Scene in Southampton, revolved around drugs and it did seem as though everyone was taking something at one time or another. Things were strong too, which is probably why I don't remember much about that time.
If anyone who remembers The Mansion reads this and remembers something different, or something differently, do let me know. My mind isn't what it used to be!
It was easy to obtain whatever you wanted back then. Although when I look back, with a cost of fifteen pounds a pill, and no one working, I have no idea how we afforded to eat and live, let alone sustain such a lifestyle. When you do ten tablets a night at a cost of fifteen pounds each, on benefits of about ninety pounds a fortnight, you can see there is an immediate discrepancy. We always managed somehow. Back then it was amazing how many times ones 'Giro' went missing, through the post, and we had to claim another one.
A group of us moved in, all gay. At the time I was about 24 years old and had just finished University. None of us were working, and we were just enjoying life. Actually a little more than enjoying, we were experiencing life in its full glory, to excess, without exception!
We moved in, in 1994, it felt a bit like a 'Gay Commune.' I suppose all of us had experienced discrimination at one time or another, and living together as a group of Gay men and women, felt like a good thing to do, sort of safety in numbers if you will. One always starts out with all good intentions, when setting foot on a new adventure. Generally those good intentions, remain just that, good intentions!
At the time, we had become heavily involved in the Southampton Gay Scene, and all that entailed! Excess in all areas of our life was usual. The 1990s on the Scene in Southampton, revolved around drugs and it did seem as though everyone was taking something at one time or another. Things were strong too, which is probably why I don't remember much about that time.
If anyone who remembers The Mansion reads this and remembers something different, or something differently, do let me know. My mind isn't what it used to be!
It was easy to obtain whatever you wanted back then. Although when I look back, with a cost of fifteen pounds a pill, and no one working, I have no idea how we afforded to eat and live, let alone sustain such a lifestyle. When you do ten tablets a night at a cost of fifteen pounds each, on benefits of about ninety pounds a fortnight, you can see there is an immediate discrepancy. We always managed somehow. Back then it was amazing how many times ones 'Giro' went missing, through the post, and we had to claim another one.
The Magnum Club closed at 2am. We would always go to the club first, hand out fliers or tickets, and from the early hours of the morning onwards, the partying would just continue. DJ's from The Magnum would play at the house, as well as others from London and beyond. At its height I guess there were over 300 people in the house, continuing to party into the following week. Cars used to jam Cobden Avenue, and I remember the Police were called on a number of occasions. It was a detached house, but due to the amount of traffic, people ended up in neighbours gardens all the time.
They were funny times. Climbing into one room, through a cat flap type door, smoke everywhere, no room to sit, people everywhere. I remember we used my ex-partners 'Gay Times' collection, to do a collage on the lounge wall. The Landlord was less impressed. The strange person who used to live in the conservatory, who we never saw. When he finally left, we found needles, used needles everywhere. It really was like a scene from 'Train Spotting' in that conservatory. Open tins of rotting food, in fact food we had bought, which this guy had stolen from our kitchen. Ah the kitchen, used to flood every time we turned the washing machine on. Tins and packets of food floating around in the mess. Cooking burgers in the upstairs kitchen, when the window fell out, smashing through the room below. Blow-drying one's hair so much, as gays do. the fuses blowing constantly! Getting lost in the garden, which was so big and unkempt that it took a day to find one's way home! Finding a room we hadn't discovered before and seeing a ghost, in fact often seeing a ghost. Those are the only real memories I have of that time, others may have more. The times always seemed good, though a know from experience, they were not. One tends to block out the bad!
They were funny times. Climbing into one room, through a cat flap type door, smoke everywhere, no room to sit, people everywhere. I remember we used my ex-partners 'Gay Times' collection, to do a collage on the lounge wall. The Landlord was less impressed. The strange person who used to live in the conservatory, who we never saw. When he finally left, we found needles, used needles everywhere. It really was like a scene from 'Train Spotting' in that conservatory. Open tins of rotting food, in fact food we had bought, which this guy had stolen from our kitchen. Ah the kitchen, used to flood every time we turned the washing machine on. Tins and packets of food floating around in the mess. Cooking burgers in the upstairs kitchen, when the window fell out, smashing through the room below. Blow-drying one's hair so much, as gays do. the fuses blowing constantly! Getting lost in the garden, which was so big and unkempt that it took a day to find one's way home! Finding a room we hadn't discovered before and seeing a ghost, in fact often seeing a ghost. Those are the only real memories I have of that time, others may have more. The times always seemed good, though a know from experience, they were not. One tends to block out the bad!
Like all good things, everything has to come to an end, with a Mansion 'Final Party'. In all honesty I do not remember that final one, at all. We only lived there six months, but they were the most excessive, exorbitant, boundless and self-indulgent times of my life., During those six months, I aged rapidly, looked ten times older than I was and looked drawn and haggard, I was exhausted. In fact, I think every one of us who lived there at least, were scraggy, scrawny and tired! Six months is not a long time, but when you are constantly partying and recovering, It is too much. When I think back, partying for three or four days, with a further three days to recover, we really did not have time, or indeed the energy to work. Our lives had become centred around a time of exuberance, and we lived it every day. You know the programmes on TV, looking back at certain years, well, I need those to remind me, what I had missed between 1994-5. I had no idea what was going on in the outside world, nor did I care!
The Mansion was boarded up shortly after we had all left. The place had been flooded at some stage and I know a fire took hold shortly afterwards. I am glad we were the last people to live there. Although it was only for a short while, they were times that were more memorable than most of which came before or after. I remember doing some research on the house, long after we had left. The last person to live there, before it was turned into an HMO, was a Lady who used to work on the Queen Mary. She became disabled later in life and died through drowning, in a pond at the rear of the garden. I guess she was the ghost. By all accounts, she was a party goer in her youth as well. Different types of parties I'm sure.
The memories of that time will always be fond, grow less and less each year, but I am glad I was part of that. I'm glad that I still get asked about those times, I'm glad, that for all of us who were there, we still continue to talk about, reflect upon and try to replicate those times. They were probably the last great parties of an era that was excess fuelled, but they were full of happiness and love towards each other, unlike those who pale into comparison today!
Of course, I also met my current partner Darrell there, so those times have double the significance in my life!
PARTY ON!
The memories of that time will always be fond, grow less and less each year, but I am glad I was part of that. I'm glad that I still get asked about those times, I'm glad, that for all of us who were there, we still continue to talk about, reflect upon and try to replicate those times. They were probably the last great parties of an era that was excess fuelled, but they were full of happiness and love towards each other, unlike those who pale into comparison today!
Of course, I also met my current partner Darrell there, so those times have double the significance in my life!
PARTY ON!
