Philly's Neo-Victorian and Steampunk crowds find a place to hang at Dorian's Parlor

Steampunk is an often misunderstood notion, a stylistic trend with roots in Victorian-era technology that touches on industrial gothic imagery and sound.

There are vintage mechanical notions that go with Steampunk - the gears, the clocks, the boilers - that, once reimagined for the present, give the allure of futurism. Surely, someone is wearing a monocle.

Think Moulin Rouge meets Inception and you're halfway there.

But true dedicated followers of Neo-Victorian and Steampunk garb and art know there is more to it than just the future tense or the pop or the fop of it all. It is an attitude. It is a lifestyle. There was, and is, a genteel and mannered culture that defines all things Neo-Victorian from the past to the present. As it grows as a literary movement, photographic movement, and fashion movement, its roots in art nouveau and beyond are happily showing and its fans need a place to congregate.

That would be Dorian's Parlor, which offers once-a-month parties at the Doubletree Hotel where patrons can sip tea and decadent, gussied-up cocktails. On Saturday, they can listen to poets, musicians, and performing artists and enjoy the simpler pleasures of dandyism while dressed in their finest. They can buy the very garb that they dress in or homemade replica tchotchkes of the Victorian era they love.

Dorian's Parlor is about the attitudes and outward appearance of dignity and restraint that made up the latter 19th century, with dollops of hedonistic pleasure as a backdrop and a mean mix of chamber classical, cabaret, and gothic disco as its soundtrack.

In that regard Dorian's Parlor has become its own world, an actual (not virtual) universe of hula-hoop-ing, stilt-walking, theremin-playing performers, women in corsets and lacy bloomers, men in waistcoats and top hats. Though the patrons, more than 200 strong and growing, are a fashion show in their own right, there are clothing catwalks designed as skits as well as screenings and readings that take place in the course of every Dorian's Parlor - all with a sense of determined decorum and taste.

"A genre and an event based on aesthetics and manners - how could I not love it?" asks Nikki Cohen, whose company, MayFaire Moon Corsets & Costumes, is represented at Dorian's.

Cohen sells custom-made corsets distinctive because of their pattern and ribbon lacing. She also makes and sells skirts, bustles, trains, gowns, chemises, and anything else that intrigues her. Many of these frilly, sexy items can be seen on Dorian's walking mannequins.

"People love to show off and the people to whom Dorian's appeals are there because they long for something more elegant and formal than a normal club," Cohen says. "There's a structure to the evening, and a sense of the night being both exclusive and welcoming."

Cohen says that the people drawn to Dorian's since 2010 have become part of one another's stories as well as the rich tapestry of the movement.

"We all know this isn't a normal club of too-loud music and drunken frat boys," Cohen says of Dorian's. "Here we can imagine and swan about quite happily and safely and it's wonderful."

The man most responsible for providing this artifice and safe haven is Gil Cnaan. At Dorian's, they call him "Baron von Crankshaft," noted for his giant gear-grinding wristwatch and colorful Edwardian top hat.

Cnaan does well by this Neo-Victorian ideal and it by him. Along with cofounding, running and booking Dorian's Parlor, the Israeli-born Cnaan is the artistic director for similar events such as Wicked Faire, the Steampunk World's Fair, and last weekend's Alternative Living Expo in Oaks. The latter event offered three shows in one (the Alternative Bridal Expo, the Distinctive Pleasures Gala, and the Back Home to the Future Show) and showcased the lifestyle that Dorian's espouses at least one night a month.

"The short version as to how Dorian's started was that I wanted to create a community where people could really dress up nicely and go out and party," says Cnaan, who had DJ'd a party in New Jersey called Clockwork with a similar gothic vibe before getting to the Doubletree. He and his associates dug the salonlike idea of a Parlor, figured Dorian's would invoke The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde ("or, at the very least, The League Of Extraordinary Gentlemen," says Cnaan), and they hoped to occupy that dressy niche between club nights and black-tie galas.

"We started with about 85 attendees, and are now at about 200 plus," says Cnaan. "Why? Because we're a fun event. There really aren't that many places to dress up and have a good time. And we've been lucky enough to create a true sense of community from the very first event, full of people who really do genuinely like and support each other."

Support is crucial for an event where music is stopped so that short stories can be read or brief plays staged, like The Evil Gazebo. Or a burlesque stilt-walker like Little Miss Rollerhoops can do tricks. Or where silk, twill, and lace fashions can be deeply regarded. Or where the mad cabaret of the Absinthe Drinkers and the operatics of Philly's modern classical ensemble Divine Hand can be appreciated, all while photographer Hugh Carey documents the habitués by taking their portraits.

Divine Hand always dresses formally for its concerts, but for Dorian's Parlor they whip out the corsets.

"Because we use a theremin, it crosses over to Steampunk," says the big Hand, Mano Divina, of its future-forward interpretation of the classics. "Our cellist put gear-works onto his instrument and I'm trying to get gears in my powdered wig."

Divina believes that everyone has a fetish or a fantasy but that the folks who attend Dorian's Parlor simply put it out there for all to see. "They are there to watch the display and be on display, to enjoy others' versions of that display, and to be in a place together to celebrate it. Acceptance of various lifestyles unifies this event into something special. For some folks, it's a chance to take off their everyday mask, and be who they really are. For others, it's the opposite. They put on the mask of who they really want to be."

"Steampunk is, collectively, a movement built on the mores and manners of an era known for its etiquette and formality, for the care people took in dealing with one another," says Cohen. "I think people genuinely enjoy the politeness."

Attendee Dusti Lewars concurs, so much so that although she lives in the Pittsburgh area, she drives five hours just to get to Dorian's. It offers her a chance to pull out the corsets and velvet gowns that she has few reasons to wear otherwise.

"Dorian's is fabulously, unconsciously romantic, a beautiful event attended by creative, warm people that gather once a month to celebrate a lovely fantasy past and present," says Lewars. "It's a regenerating experience and worth the trip every time."

Part of what makes Dorian's Parlor great is how Cnaan strives to make each monthly event unique, how one month it's more straight goth, or more Victorian. "It's completely different because Gil works to bring in different types of vendors and performers each time. The e-mails he sends out to attendees or the notices on Facebook read more like letters to friends. Attendees, vendors, and organizers are not just going to an event. We're reconnecting with family."