Ian-Michael Bergeron

When thinking of mandatory Pride Month activities, one thing comes straight (pun intended) to my mind: drag brunch. My first five years in New York, I worked every weekend and never got to brunch anywhere. In the last two years of having my weekends back, I just haven’t made it. I know there are plenty of restaurants that host drag brunch, especially in Hell’s Kitchen, but I wanted my first experience to be at Lips...

With Spring and Pride both fresh in the New York air, I went out in search of the perfect pride outfit. I wanted to check out some local shops for something sexy, comfy and fun: something to take me from day-drinking brunch to parade-watching to dancing the night away. I bopped over to 8th Avenue (one avenue over from where the World Pride Parade will run) to see what I could find. I started at...

I wrote my first column for Get Out! Magazine in December 2015. I was ecstatic: After three years in New York City, I was finally going to have something published in print. Justin Luke, who was writing for them at the time, told head honcho Mike Todd to check out my online blogs, and Mike asked me to turn them into this column. Ever since, you’ve been here with me through my New York experience:...

I was dog-sitting Penny, Jack’s dachshund, when I got a text from Jack himself: “I’ve got baby fever.” My immediate thought was, “You should probably go see your doctor.” Not that I’ve never had baby fever myself—my mother would love nothing more than having a grandchild. (And since I’m an only child, I’m her Obi-Wan Kenobi.) Not to mention I get dog fever just about every time I go outside and see some well-to-do gay...

Last weekend, after waking up early to see a 7 a.m. showing of “Avengers: End Game” at AMC Lincoln Square (Jack’s idea: He’s the comic buff; I’m just along for the ride) (and yes, I am the world’s best friend for going to a 7 a.m. showing on a Saturday), the gang assembled for brunch at Jacob’s Pickles on Amsterdam Ave and 85th Street. After a thorough discussion of the movie (I won’t give any...

The other day, while my boyfriend and I got frisky while watching Netflix, I started to think about all of the weird things I’ve listened to while having sex. It makes sense that you’d listen to music, and I do, often. My go-to used to be “The XX,” low and slow and sensual, even enough that it’s not jarring when the next track starts. Recently (mostly because of my boyfriend and not me) I’ll put...

A few months before moving to New York, my mother was diagnosed with breast cancer. But this story isn’t about my mother (now cancer-free); it’s about my father. A month into living in New York, I got a call. I’d been couchsurfing my entire time in New York, just me and my oversized suitcase. My mom and I talked earlier that day, and she told me that she and my stepfather looked into silk headscarves,...

When I woke up on my last birthday, James was already up, doing yoga (or meditating? Or do you meditate while you yoga? Hell if I know.) in the corner of the room. He stopped when he heard me sit up. “Good morning,” he said, sitting on the bed with me. “I have a present for you.” “I don’t need any more presents,” I smiled, wiping the sleep from my eyes. The night before we’d...

Last week, my gender-fluid friend Ridley invited me to The Phluid Project’s One-Year Anniversary. The Phluid Project, on the corner of Broadway and Third, is a clothing store toting “Fashion Without Gender,” carrying brands from Levi’s to G.L.E.T. to NicoPanda. It was the first time I’d been in the store: I wore my favorite G.L.E.T. ‘90s tattoo tank with my new T-Rex Coach charm necklace. Ridley, James and I arrived 15 minutes after the event...