Danny Morales dies; his ‘Aqua Netta’ performances delighted Boystown

Danny Morales liked to call himself a “Prada Rican.”

“We’re putting ‘Prada Rican’ on his headstone. That was his life. He was a fashion guru,” said his sister Missy Farina. “My brother was an immaculate dresser, I would say from when he came out of the womb.”

He combed thrift stores and eBay, hunting for couture and coveted Tom Ford designs for Gucci, turning fashion finds into profits by re-selling them.

Mr. Morales also worked at restaurants including McCormick & Schmick’s, Joe’s Stone Crab, Trenchermen and Ed Debevic’s. “Whether he was a bartender, server or a host, he was a big personality, and honestly, people just liked to be around him,” said friend Daniel Booz. “He brought business.”

And “he was funny as hell,” said his partner, Rick Calmelat.

In the late 1980s and early 1990s, he delighted fans with drag performances as Aqua Netta, a campy, hilarious favorite at clubs including Berlin and the now-shuttered Cairo, Foxy’s and Red Dog, Booz said. Part of Aqua Netta’s schtick, his sister said, was shellacking her hairdo with Aqua Net — and then storing the can in her wig.

“His fame spread far and wide,” said friend Alan Affelt, who recalled hearing about Aqua Netta’s shows a decade ago while living in St. Clair, Michigan, near Canada.

Mr. Morales, 51, died on Oct. 12 of a heart attack, his partner said. He collapsed while walking to a grocery store in Rogers Park, where he lived with Calmelat and their three Basenji dogs.

“Danny renamed all of them, like he did most people,” Calmelat said. One of the canine trio was named Trouble. “He started calling him ‘Turmoil,’ which is a lot more accurate than Trouble,” he said. Lola became “Lotion.” And a puppy born after the Cubs clinched the World Series was christened Rizzo, though Mr. Morales often referred to him by the endearment “Booger.”

He left behind a home made beautiful by his collector’s eye. Their walls popped with vivid paintings — and many nail holes from rearranging them until he found them most pleasing.

Danny grew up in Humboldt Park, the fourth of six children of his mother, Marta Morales, who was from Barranquitas, Puerto Rico, and his father Juan, who came from Naranjito.

He attended Piccolo grade school and North Park Academy high school. He was a dynamic break dancer. In the early 1980s, “Any [cardboard] box wasn’t safe around us,” said his sister. “We’d cut it up and use it for break dancing.”

Mr. Morales loved house music. At his wake, Chicago DJ Ralphi Rosario tucked a mix CD next to him.

When he was 18, he moved out. “He wanted to be who he was, and that was a gay man,” his sister said. “He moved to Boystown and made wonderful friends.”

For many, “He seemed to be the Welcome Wagon” in Chicago and Boystown, Calmelat said. He tutored city transplants on how to stay safe. “Young kids leaving the bar at night with tip money in their pockets, he’d tell them how people watch for waiters leaving work,” he said.

He and Calmelat met through OKCupid and bonded over a shared love of Palm Springs. He cooked delicious meals for his partner, including turkey chili and chicken soup from scratch. “I swear the chicken soup cured me from being sick,” Calmelat said. As if at a restaurant, his creations were gorgeously plated and arranged atop beautiful textile placemats and coordinated napkins.

Mr. Morales relaxed by walking their Basenjis on the lakefront and collecting beach glass.

He and Affelt recently started a business, Itty Bitty Dragon, an importer of heat-transfer vinyl for creating designs on T-shirts and clothing. “The day before he died, we had a record run for our sales,” Affelt said.

His sister recalled that if he hadn’t seen her in a while, he might greet her with, “ ‘What the hell have you done with your hair?’ ”

And, she said, “He was always right.”

In addition to his partner, mother and sister, he is survived by his sisters Debbie Morales and Victoria Smith and brothers Raymond and Marco. Services have been held.

He often rode his bike around Rogers Park. After he died, neighbors decorated the bicycle he left outside his home.

“There were white flowers all over his bike,” Calmelat said.