Fun with Buns

It's Saturday night, and we're at Harvey's in the Castro - a bar normally frequented by stylish, well-dressed gay men - surrounded by a growing throng of happily socializing bunny-costumed twentysomethings. They are about to embark on, how droll, a bar hop. The group is an unofficial, loose-knit group of friends, the kind of social formation in which just about everyone hangs now and then; the only difference here is that this group has united around a common interest. One that is highly visible, cuddly, and to some folks, a little unnerving.

The Harvey's regulars are beginning to sense that something's up. "Oh my Loooooord," breathes one of the confused patrons as a tall, neon-pink-and-green bunny moseys happily in through the door. But in form that's typical to the strangest neighborhood in the strangest city, that's one of the only acknowledgements of the evening. "Everyone wants to act like they've seen it all," says a bunny named Chandler, gazing coolly around the room as he adjusts his ears. The group gets a few occasional glances- just to make sure, yep, that's a guy in a bunny suit, okay - but there is nary a raised eyebrow. Another phalanx of bunnies enters, and a waiter points at Safety Bunny and asks them, "are you in his party?"

Not wanting to seem intolerant, we struggle with a nice way to ask...why? "I have more opportunities to talk to people than if I showed up in a black t-shirt," explains Alex, a big, tough-looking fellow who is in fact wearing a black shirt, but also a pair of ears perched demurely atop his ponytailed head. Alex admits that he's new to the - he cocks his head, looking for the right term, and the ears jiggle - "bunny scene," having been introduced to it by an acquaintance. Since his invitation to join the Love Parade's Bunny Float, he's seen his social circle expand. "These are my friends," he says, "they dress like bunnies, and," he shrugs, "so do I." In fact, the social network of bay area bunnies is surprisingly large; held every Easter, the massive Bunnyjam party attracts droves of adorable bunny-identified revelers. While perusing photographs of last year's event, we were startled to discover a picture of a friend of ours, decked out in ears and a tail and grinning happily in a crowd of co-bunnies. What's going on? Are we the last ones to find out about this scene? Are bunnies the new pirates (which were the new monkeys)?

We start to imagine our drinking companions making their lives as bunnies, but Chandler stops us: "this isn't it for me," he says, rolling his eyes at the idea. "I just do it because it's fun." Bouncy Bunny, too, is quick to downplay bunnying as a lifestyle, despite having earlier labeled herself a "bunny-identifying." She elaborates, "it's fun to dress up, like a pirate, or a belly dancer." And she certainly doesn't feel that they fall under the umbrella of the furry fandom. Wrinkling her nose, she says, "that's more about sci-fi, and writing fiction." Other bunnies are quick to distance themselves from furries - a group more devoted to role-playing and online personas than to simple accessorizing - and even quicker to distance themselves from the seemingly universally pitied pushies [NSFW]. Even adults in bunny costumes have a level of dignity to maintain.

Speaking of lost dignity, we're unsurprised to discover that most of the Bunny Bar-Hoppers are also attendees of Burning Man, and friends of the Cacophony Society. But we weren't expecting to hear so many of the bunnies compare themselves to Goths. Yes, right, Goths, the kids who dress in torn black lace and wear pointy vampire teeth and sing songs about Bela Lugosi. "Bunny is the new Goth," says Chandler. We're about to scoff when a woman dressed as a gothic bunny - with black garb and skull makeup beneath her cheery white ears - walks by. Both groups are all about the pageantry, we're told: dressing up, putting on a show, and getting into character. "It's like being a little kid and playing pretend," says Bouncy Bunny.

But sometimes the childish aspect can be a source of discomfort, according to ScooterX, who made his first costume - a bear - for the Folsom Street Fair five years ago. At the time, he just thought that it was a high-larious visual pun - he's a bear! And he's in a bear costume! Ha! But it turned out that the fair's frantically sexing celebrants wanted nothing to do with a man in an animal costume. "You never mess with someone's fetish," he says, sort of wistfully. They saw a guy dressed in what looked like adorable PJs and a cute hoodie, which in the fetishistic language of the street fair they misinterpreted to be signals for some kind of infanti1ism thing - or b3stiality - and ignored him. Tonight, ScooterX is dressed as a tiger, and very popular with the crowd. He's delighted by the attention: "Bunnies are an excellent source of protein," he tells us.

But what about...you know...is it a fetish? We've seen the webpages [NSFW] and the articles and the other webpages and icky episode of CSI in which they uncover an underground fursuit hump-den. Not wanting to pry, we wait for one of the bunnies to bring up the subject of intercourse - "I wouldn't mind having some," Alex sighs, and we couldn't agree more, but now that you've mentioned it, what's the deal with the sex? He shrugs. "We'll hump anyway, with or without the costume," he tells us, and the news gives us a bit of a thrill. "It's just one aspect," agrees Chandler, "sex isn't what it's all about." But...but...we were all ready to label you as creepy sex-addled preverts! Clearly, you all must be completely damaged and weird, right? Well, not really. Andy puts bunnying into perspective, kind of: "We could be methed-out skinheads," he says, "but we're not. We're - " and he shrugs, "- bunnies." Well, if you put it that way.

Scooter admits that there might be something a little discomforting about seeing a man in a bunny suit - after all, he points out, dressing up as an animal is generally associated with children. Outsiders' reaction is therefore not entirely positive. "You can't go to the corner store and do it," he says. But for him, it's not about the childishness or about sex; "it's playful," he says, and that seems to be the general consensus of the evening, both among bunnies and among observers. They're just a bunch of folks playing around, and within the context of a Bunny's Night Out, the public is generally welcoming. Last time they did a barhop, they stopped by the posh Lexington Club and unexpectedly received a standing ovation from the delighted patrons upon entering. Tonight they expect a similar response, which is one reason for starting the night in the notoriously tolerant Castro. And as the group prepares to depart Harvey's for a night on the town, the expectation seems not unreasonable. Dressing up, hanging out, having a good time - these bunnies seem to have it all figured out. Except that...you know...they're not really bunnies. But tonight, for a couple of hours, the city seems ready pretend along with them.
More images are available on the Flickr account of Ron, our brave photographer.