Wild Party Photos from the Height of Indie Sleaze

Millennials suffer the generational equivalent of middle-child syndrome: Boomers think they’re slackers who can’t get a mortgage, and they’ve been tarnished by cringe side fringes and Hogwarts houses for zoomers. But for Brooklyn-based photographer Laura June Kirsch, coming of age in the transitional wedge of the late 2000s and early 2010s was a moment of “pure innocence”.

It was only afterwards that Kirsch realised she’d been experiencing the end –  and beginning – of an era. “It was a special time and place,” she reminisces. “Technology has improved so much more quickly now.”  That decade in New York was one crammed between opposites: As the economy plummeted into recession, newly-elected Obama represented a beacon of cultural progress; technology teetered between dingy flip phones and the social media revolution. Millennials landed right in the middle of the vibe shift: They didn’t have much in the way of money or career prospects, but they did – Kirsch says – have shitloads of fun. 

When she started photographing nightlife as a fresh graduate out of art school, taking a camera to a club was a novelty. Kirsch had never planned on making a book out of it – she was just “following [her] stride”, going to whatever party or gig her friends were at and having a good time. Her photos are a glimpse into the messy authenticity of the real indie sleaze era: Snogging in side streets, 20-somethings slouched over their Converse All-Stars in empty fields and the girly intimacy of club toilet cubicles. 

It’s an ode to the millennial origin story: People on TikTok might be able to recreate the low-rise jeans and fishnets era now but, Kirsch reckons, the true chaos of it all has to be witnessed in the moment. We spoke to her about the process of putting the photos together for her book Romantic Lowlife Fantasies, the New York nightlife scene and what it was like living out your 20s before the advent of Instagram.

VICE: How did you get into shooting these pictures?
Laura Jane Kirsch: I kind of hit the stride where I was doing nightlife photography in my 20s. I was out all the time in these communities, documenting it – and then all of a sudden, it was over. These venues closed, technology got really advanced, where everyone's filming and documenting things all the time. And all of a sudden, there was a shift from where it was a novelty to have a camera to everyone has a camera. 

I realised this had been a special time and place. When I graduated from school, I graduated in the recession, but also Obama got elected. It felt like all this progressive stuff was happening, like there was this huge cultural shift for the better and the millennials were coming in and things were getting better. And then Trump got elected. And all of a sudden, the whole vibe of society and technology unearthed all these problems that maybe living in a bubble in New York City my whole entire adult life, I wasn't aware of. 

When did you decide to put this era in particular into a book?
When it started to feel like things were different, I was just going through all my work. It took forever, like six months of full time work to do it. I started laying down the photos: I saw a lot of those venues closed, a lot of the places we were hanging out, trends were changing socially – and I knew that era was over and it was time to start commenting on it.

When tech started getting more popular, it was like a really fun thing, right? Like Myspace. You had email and you could look up directions to where you're going – it was really helpful. But it wasn't all encompassing. That only lasted a short period of time. It's changing so quickly now; it's scary, sometimes a little overwhelming. So I just realised things were very different, even that short period of time. I always want to put out a book – I felt like I had the angle, I had what I wanted to make a book on; then I just started editing it. 

Indie sleaze and Y2K are back in full force now. Why do you think younger generations might be looking back to the aesthetics of that time?
It kind of is perfect timing now, because people are really craving this style of photography and [are] interested in nightlife photography, which kind of died out for a while. Why? I don't know, I'd have to ask someone who's Gen Z. One thing I can say was interesting about the early 2000s, and through this book, is like: Famous people dressed like shit. I feel like now there's such a divide between rich aesthetic and not-having-money aesthetic.  Back then celebrities had horrible style! Like, you’d dress cuter than they did. There wasn't like designer clothes and people getting plastic surgery and all this stuff where you feel like you have to be rich to reach a certain look or something. 

As a female-identifying person, it was easier to just look cute and feel cute and without having a massive budget. The beauty standards have gotten so impossible. It's exhausting, you know?

Yeah, totally. Does that factor into the title of the book – It’s kind of an oxymoron, right?
It's from a line from Luc Sante’s essay in the Beastie Boys Book. I love the Beastie Boys – they were the first concert I ever went to when I was like 12 or 13. Luc wrote this essay talking about these kids in the downtown music scene at the time, who were hanging out and making art and going out every night. There was a line where he made a joke, like “your neighbours don't care about your romantic fantasies”. [laughs] That totally encapsulated what this time feels like. Essays about the origin stories of the 80s remind me of me and my friends and what we were doing: the hustling and just not caring and living like every day is their last. I consider myself a hopeful romantic. 

Can you tell me about the kind of places that you went to photograph? Were you actively seeking out specific kinds of places and subjects for your photos?
It was much more who was playing and what parties were happening at different venues, because I was friends with all the venue owners and people in the band. It just would be like, “Oh, this person's band’s playing tonight”. And then some of it at bigger festivals, like Coachella – just wherever your friends were. It was a really supportive community, everyone was doing stuff and everyone was going to their friends’ things, like musicians, DJs, party promoters, new managers and event people were just throwing like, crazy parties or working with brands. 

One of the photos that I really liked was the purple-haired girl in the bathroom, which is such a viscerally familiar scene to a lot of people. Do you remember how that particular photo came about?
Haha! Most of them are candid. That one isn’t, but it doesn't matter: Everyone can relate to that moment, everyone's been there. If I actually saw someone crying at a party I'd go up and talk to them, and not take their photo, probably. But that one's so funny. 

Usually I just take the photo and then if someone was upset, you just delete it after. I tried to find as many people as possible in this book and get permission before printing it because I just wanted to make sure [they] felt good about being in it.

There’s a lot of messy crying and back alleys – it feels like you’re looking in the other direction to where the “main action” was. Is that what you were going for?
You're nailing it – I'll be at an event and I will notice things. I am so sensitive and pick up on so many different energies. I know that sounds hippie dippie, but it's true. Like, I can feel when something's off with someone at like a dinner, I will be so hyperfocused on it that other people won't even notice. I have an ability to pick up on things that other people aren’t picking up on, like seeing what everyone else isn't seeing. I will be at an event and I will be noticing something completely different that no one else is paying attention to.

Are there any misconceptions other generations have about this era, that you’re trying to help people understand with your photos?
We graduated in the recession – I don't think people were getting paid as much as our parents were, and everything cost so much more money. And older generations just thought, “oh, millennials are lazy”,  but you were like, “What? This is impossible, how am I ever going to afford to buy anything?” But then you're just kind of like, “Well, then fuck it! I'm just gonna go have fun. Because what else can I do? That's the only thing I can control at this point in my life.” 

People were really hard on millennials. There was more publicity about the fun they were having, because social media started coming around and there was more press about it. But they also work hard – that's what I tried to convey.

It really is a love letter to the people in this time, to being able to unplug and be in the moment. I just think there’s such an important thing about connecting with people in person and being present and not on your phones. I was really lucky to be in all these creative communities since I was a kid. It's just important for people find those communities, interact [with] their peers and create things. Put it down, get out there and make some stuff that's unplugged.

Romantic Lowlife Fantasies is out now. Kirsch is doing a talk on May 20th at the House of Books in Kent, Connecticut and will be participating in Greenpoint Open Studios in New York on June 10th & 11th.