The Palace Club. The Diamond Head. The Parliament House. They’re all part of Orlando’s LGBT nightlife history, and soon, one of its legendary performers will be too. Lorrie Del Mar, preeminent drag artist and multiple title-holder, has announced her retirement from the stage. Known for her extreme over-the-top performances, Del Mar’s triumphs in the spotlight took a tragic turn in the mid-1980s when a car accident left her partially disabled. Del Mar’s career – and Larry Ligori, the man behind her – will be celebrated in “A Farewell Tribute,” Mon., July 21, at the Parliament House. An all-star cast of presenters and performers, including several of her former fellow Footlight Players costars, are scheduled to appear in the 9 p.m. show. Advance tickets are $8 at Wanzie.com or $10 at the door.
Born and raised in Tampa, Larry Ligori’s parents were a stay-at-home mom who worked odd jobs and a construction planner father. Pressures of being raised Catholic at a time when homosexuality was kept hush-hush, Ligori says he never thought of being gay until well after high school. Ligori was once even engaged to a girl, but before the two could get married, his fiancé committed suicide.
The tragedy forced Ligori to take stock of his life and create his own destiny, rather than follow a pre-conceived path dictated by society. When he realized he might be gay, there were few places for Ligori to find community. Still underage, he was unable to meet fellow gay men in bars or clubs, the primary and often only locale where gays intermingled. So, Ligori turned to one of the only other places he had heard about where he could meet other homosexuals.
“We would drive around the federal building in Tampa,” Ligori says. “It was a place where you could pick up trade. Everybody did it. It was known mostly for hustlers.” The entertainer-to-be made friends with another performer-in-the-making, Apple Love; the two under-agers would occasionally ride around the local cruising spot in Love’s convertible singing Barbra Streisand and Diana Ross tunes.
But one night when Ligori’s sexual curiosity got the best of him he decided to proposition a man, not knowing that his intended was an undercover cop. Arrested and thrown in jail for the night, his relationship with his parents went downhill quickly, culminating in a fateful blowup with his father. The argument included broken plates, a frying pan grabbed as a weapon, violent threats, and many many tears; by night’s end Ligori was kicked out of the house, and left to live on the streets of Tampa for three months.
Undeterred in pursuing his passion, Ligori began frequenting local gay clubs once he turned 21. At Tampa’s Carousel Club Ligori first encountered Paul Wegman, who would become the future Parliament House mainstay Miss P. Ligori watched in amazement as Wegman, decked out in short-shorts, colored hair and other fashion eccentricities, would – on his own – “perform” on the club’s dance floor. Captivated by how the club-kid-esque Wegman captured the crowd’s attention, Ligori soon sought ways to do the same. Realizing his potential as a female impersonator, Ligori practiced lip-syncing at home, performing to an audience of one in his mirror!
He discovered a troupe of local entertainers that travelled to Orlando monthly to perform at Orlando’s Palace Club. On his third audition, Ligori was selected, but he wouldn’t remain part of the group for long. After two show-stopping numbers – performed to “But I Love You More,” by The Supremes, and “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough,” by Diana Ross – “Miss Lorrie” was hired on the spot by Miss Cherry, the club’s show hostess, to cheers and wild applause from the audience. Relocating to Orlando soon followed.
As for the stage name, Ligori says he’s always liked the name Lorrie; when he was engaged and thought about having children he dreamed of naming a daughter that. The “Del Mar” came years later when, forced to come up with a surname for a promotional poster, Ligori inspiration on – of all places – a Denny’s restaurant menu.
One aspect of performing drag that certainly attracted Ligori was the glitz and glamour associated with the art, fashion attributes that Ligori first learned to appreciate as a child who accompanied his mother on her frequent shopping trips. And while Miss Lorrie’s first performing outfits were purchased off the racks, he’d soon meet people who’d sew outfits specifically for her. One person Ligori credits for helping make Lorrie Del Mar the star she’ll always be is designer Skip Stewart, who over the years created many Del Mar costumes.
“I always had a gimmick,” Ligori says of his performances. “Very seldom did I go out and just stand up there and do a song. I always had some kind of prop, a dancer, a backdrop. I always took it to the extreme.”
No kidding. In her perhaps what is her most memorable stunt, Del Mar once rode a horse into Miami’s Fountainebleau Hotel ballroom during a pageant performing Cher’s “Half Breed,” completely decked out in Native American attire, feather headdress and all. And though she didn’t win that pageant, Del Mar did go on to accumulate 15 titles; she’s also the Emeritus Titleholder of Miss Gay Florida America.
In 1975 the original owners of the Palace Club, where Ligori first performed in drag publicly, purchased a failing motor lodge on Orange Blossom Trail known as The Parliament House and converted it into a gay resort; Del Mar was one of the remodeled hotel’s first entertainers, known as The Footlight Players. Del Mar’s triumphs in the spotlight took a tragic turn on November 21, 1984, when a car accident following a Diana Ross concert in St. Petersburg left Ligori with a mouthful of shattered teeth, plus a broken jaw, arm and femur. Taking two years to heal physically, a deep bout of depression and a debilitating limp remained and Ligori convinced himself he’d never perform again. Thanks to some strong encouragement from his mother and sister, Ligori finally returned to his passion. Since then Del Mar has appeared throughout town doing the occasional guest appearance, but come Monday, he’ll step out of the spotlight for good.
“I just turned 66, I think it’s time,” Ligori says of his retirement from the stage. “It’s probably overdue! I love doing shows. I will miss it very much. But I will always be Lorrie. No one can take that away from me.”
