As Star Gaze—the only remaining full-time lesbian bar in Chicago—closes, owner Mamie Lake looks back at how the Andersonville institution got started.
Mamie Lake, then age 50, didn't know she was about to become the owner of Chicago's preeminent lesbian bar for the first decade of the millennium when she and her real estate agent rushed over to 5419 N. Clark with a proposed contract in hand, but that's exactly what she did; that was May 1998. With the bar closing its doors for the last time this week, what follows is Lake's story.
Lake and her real estate agent were scouring the northern end of the Clark Street shopping district in Andersonville. This area was rapidly becoming "the" lesbian neighborhood of Chicago and Lake wanted to open her bar there. The agent was able to identify three bars that met Lake's criteria. "When I walked in here, I just knew," Lake said of the winning spot. This is it. This is it."
"I was sold on it right away, then they showed me the beer garden and that was it. My sights were set on this place."
Initially, the agent scrambled her notes and mistakenly told Lake that it was already sold. As Lake remembered that day she said, "I was devastated. When you make up your mind that's it, everything else is, forget about it." However, realizing her mistake, the agent called back two days later and said the bar was still available.
Smiling, Lake explained, "I told her let's get over there and write up a contract right now. Nothing is going to stop me. I want this bar. And that's what we did!" The transition of Café Ashe into Star Gaze had begun.
Now Lake had a bar that needed a name. She had already decided she wanted something with "gaze" in it, so while she was visiting with her brother and nephew in Florida the three of them discussed ideas. One night as the three of them were looking up into the sky, her brother suggested, "Gaze upon a Star." She said that was too long, but he was on the right track. After they played around with it for a while, "Star Gaze" was born.
Lake returned to Chicago, only to find a two-page violation report from the city inspector. She would have to correct these violations before she could open for business and the grand opening was less than a month away. Lake told the inspector she'd have it done in a week. Recalling that time, Lake told Windy City Times, "We cleaned, we scraped, we replaced tiles up in the ceiling." After seven days, the inspector returned and was amazed at the progress Lake had made. Although there were a few minor items still on the list, the inspector said she was going to pass the bar for inspection because she was so impressed with the dogged determination Lake exhibited.
Over the years, that unwavering determination would be challenged again and again as Lake faced the struggles inherent in being owner of a lesbian bar. But that is getting too far ahead in our story. We are only up to the first day.
"I had my grand opening and it was packed," Lake recalled. "It was lots of friends supporting me and, I'm sure, lots of girls because they had heard about us. We had a DJ. Everyone was in a great mood. They were dancing. I had a cook and we put out food so everyone could sample the cooking. … It was [ also ] very scary to open the doors for the first time and get a sense of running a business."
As it turns out, the inspector and Lake's friends weren't the only ones that took notice of what she was doing with Star Gaze. In 1999, the Chicago Area Gay & Lesbian Chamber of Commerce awarded Star Gaze "Best New Business of the Year." And, perhaps more importantly, lesbians were coming from the neighborhood, other parts of the city, and surrounding suburbs on a regular basis to find "community." This includes, a safe space to be "out," friends, teammates, a sex partner ( s ) , drinking buddies, a girlfriend, women just like themselves, etc. The following is what they saw when they arrived.
The old Café Ashe sign was up for a while, and many locals had gone there when it was the café, so the new name took some time to stick. However, the inside was transformed and only remnants of what had been there still remained. For example, the faux brick with grape vines painted on the southern wall remained for several years, while the diving wall was demolished early.
The interior was divided by a large bar, with service areas on two sides. This essentially gave the space the feel of two unique establishments: a dark dance club—complete with a mirrored wall, intimate seating on both ends of the dance floor, flashing lights and a disco ball—and the other, a Chicago-style drop-in after-work neighborhood bar with a jukebox and pool table. One could walk between the two spaces freely and find the area where she felt most comfortable. During the warm parts of the year, the beer garden was open. The coveted outdoor space was a tranquil haven that featured picnic benches with umbrellas and a swing-built-for-two.
However, over time, these spaces became multi-purpose. For example, the "dance club" was used as a cafeteria when Sunday brunch was served; ping pong until the table broke; and the raised club seating was used as a stage for a multitude of things including comedy and musical acts, sports league sign-ups and award ceremonies, burlesque, various fundraisers, and in most recent years, karaoke. The window seating area doubled as the darts league section and on the "neighborhood bar" side Lake's Bridgeport roots were visible on the North Side where Bears and Sox fans were always welcome, as were members of the lesbian pool league who were often found around the table several nights a week. On Sunday afternoons, the outdoors went from a romantic getaway to a cornhole-slingin' spot where women from various sports teams gathered to drink and play.
Sadly, this seemingly idyllic lesbian oasis also had its share of problems; a quick search on the Internet will yield opinions written by those women, and a few men, who've had less-than-pleasant experiences at the bar. While Lake acknowledged her awareness of these critiques, she also expressed a strong desire to stay true to herself and her decisions. She recognized the points made, but tried to explain things from the bar owner's perspective. For example, several comments are complaints about the cover charge. Lake said, "The lesbians are cheap, to put it bluntly. I can't tell you how many times I have seen two women show up at 8 p.m., stay until 1 a.m.and have a $25 tab between the two of them."
"I understand men make more money than women, and women have to pick between Friday and Saturday to go out, but they have to expect to spend money when they go out," she said. She even expressed feeling abandoned by the lesbian community at times.
Lesbians "are not loyal to any gay-owned businesses. They will go to a straight bar that has a lesbian night and not come to gay-owned businesses because the drinks are cheaper," Lake said.
However, what came through in each of Lake's answers to my questions in our two-hour interview was that dogged determination expressed in her retelling of the inspector's story. Despite whatever adversarial thing came her way, she was going to stay the course and push forward. The Chicago Gay & Lesbian Hall of Fame celebrated her determination and recognized her efforts when she and her wife, Dustin "Dusty" Fermin were inducted for Star Gaze in 2006.
Now, at the age of 62, she is beginning to tire of the fight.
Next week: Mamie Lake talks more about Star Gaze, including a controversial situation involving the denial of the facility's beer-garden license application.
