Mar 10, 2009

Midnight in the Garden of Pretty and Evil


Hollywood is arguably the birthplace of the nightclub, in that it seems to have inspired nightclubs the world over. I have been to nightclubs in hundreds of cities, and no theme is more consistently represented than “Hollywood” – from its famous “Roxy”, “Viper Room” and “Sunset Strip” to its velvet ropes, monolithic and dour bouncers, and VIP back entrances; each reprised a thousand times over in small-town suburbs and big time “second” cities. But, as with most things, the “idea” of Hollywood nightclubs is far more glamorous than the realities.

I can vividly recall my first Hollywood nighttime outing. My mind raced with images that had flashed on my TV screen: pretty people, neon castles, flashy bartenders and listening to music so transcendently good that I would have no choice but to dance the night away. I remember the concern with which I decided what to wear – hoping, desperately, to be cool enough for the scene. But what I will truthfully never forget was the crushing disappointment of the actual experience.

My first thought, and the corresponding first words that came out of my mouth, as we arrived in the vicinity were: “This is Hollywood? I thought it would be…uh, cleaner.” The sidewalks were dirty, like wrong-side-of-the-tracks post-natural disaster dirty. The corners and closed storefront alcoves were filled with homeless, prostitutes and all manner of unsavory characters. The streets contained an even mix of both exotic sports cars and mid 90’s-era Toyota Corollas (and various cars of that nature) – which was somehow more disheartening than had the streets been filled fully with either. Valets hustled to park lines of cars, while lines of would-be party goers snaked around the blocks from the sporadically placed entrances. And the hordes of pretty people? Replaced by crowds of wannabes and posers – all trying to be something they clearly weren’t with a desperation that was palpable.

But aside from its general failures to live up to the preceding reputation and hype, there are some unique characteristics of the Hollywood club scene which keep me from going more than once annually (usually to remind myself why I don’t go anymore).

Parking on the Dance Floor

There is one essential thing to know about dance clubs in Hollywood, and that is that, for the most part, people do not dance there. Which is not to say that there isn’t a “dance floor” or other designated dancing area, because there is. It is also not to say that there is not music to dance to. In fact, some of the best DJs I have ever heard have been in Hollywood night spots. But, as above, no one is dancing. Of course, in other cities’ nightclubs this looks a little silly, because that would mean that there’s no one on the dance floor. Not in Hollywood. No, what you are supposed to do there (or at so far as I’ve been to glean from observation) is to stand about on the dance floor as if it’s simply a good place to listen to the music and if anyone does start to dance, you are to cast sideways glances at them, as if they have two heads.

In the very few places in Hollywood where dancing does take place, it must be very crowded. And by “very” I mean, eight-people-touching-you-at-any-given-time crowded. The primary motivation behind this phenomenon (as well as the dance floor parking policy) is the first rule of Hollywood clubbing: you must look cool at all times. This prohibits, amongst other things, overtly enjoying the music (i.e. toe tapping or swaying to the beat), removing your hat or sunglasses, or smiling.

The does, however, give you some insight into the authenticity of a “Hollywood”-style club. If there are people on the dance floor, dancing, smiling and generally having a good time with at least some casual disregard for their appearance, you know it’s a complete knock-off[1].

A Place for Friends

One of the most unique characteristics of the western Los Angeles night scene is its functionality as a device to meet new people. Which is to say, that it has none. You see, people in Hollywood go out exclusively to hang out with people they already know. Now, for those of you not from L.A., you’ll recognize this behavior as what you call “having some friends over” – but in order to do it here, you’ve got to get dressed up, brave the traffic, be on “the list”, then enjoy seeing your friends over $15 well drinks, $9 domestic beers and one seriously angsty cocktail waitress (who is truthfully expecting a $20 tip each time she swings by).

This behavior can be visually observed as groups of friends “circling the wagons” and chatting amongst themselves for the balance of the evening, not unlike a high school lunchroom. And from experience, let me just say that I do not advise trying to break into one of these circles. Because if you do, you’ll stop conversation in that circle faster than an audible fart (and be the recipient of the aforementioned sideways glances from the rest of the club).

Now, I’m a friendly soul and found this out the hard way, but it comes to this: if you go to the nightclub in Hollywood alone, that’s how you’ll be leaving.

What Not to Wear

Hollywood nightclubs are a lot like high school: in that they are mostly designed to make you feel as though you’re not cool enough, not pretty enough and not rich enough to be there. The atmosphere is intense enough, that even the “cool kids” feel this way. The idea is to spend as much money as you can trying to look as though you spent nothing on what you’re wearing. For example, you roll out in your “plain” Rag & Bone Jeans ($275), “plain” white James Perse t-shirt ($50) and your “plain” casual Fiorentini + Baker shoes ($360), and you’ve spent nearly $800 on looking like you don’t even care enough to put on a decent shirt[2]. Nice, huh?

Which is not to say that you are allowed to actually dress as though you don’t care, because you’re not. You’ll likely not even make it into the club so attired, and even if you do, when someone realizes you’re wearing less than $100 worth of clothes, you’ll get kicked out like you knocked up the owner’s favorite niece.

This preparation is, however, essential in Hollywood, because your face is the third or fourth thing that any potential mates look at (after your shoes, watch, and sometimes, your outfit). And if you think that’s shallow, just wait until you get to the “conversation”; which consists of a net-worth focused interrogation, and features such inspirational queries as “So what do you do?” and “So what do you drive?”[3]

In that, clubbing in Hollywood is sort of like interviewing for a job that you don’t really want.

Bright Lights, Big City

In the end, there is some modicum of entertainment in simply observing the living caricatures that populate these scenes: the “actresses” and “models” (read as: baristas and waitresses), the “producers” (read as: sleazy old guys who actually made their money in plumbing but always seem to have “a friend in the business), the “musicians” (read as: the grooming and bathing averse) and “visitors” who come from the suburbs for the feel of an “authentic” party experience (and end up leaving with a $500 bar tab and wondering why they didn’t just go to the corner pub).

In fact, you might just discover that the mystery of a street with so many parties going being called the “Boulevard of Broken Dreams” isn’t much of a mystery after all.


[1] The proper response to this is to look around in disgust, and briskly remove yourself from the premises (as though you’re heading off to a much cooler party).

[2] This, of course, does not include the watch you’re supposed to be wearing, which can set you back about a cool $10,000 (if done properly)

[3] I’d love to be able to tell you that this is all just me taking some poetic license and engaging in a little harmless hyperbole… but this is, unfortunately, all true… and based on personal anecdotal evidence.

1 comment:

Robyn said...

Thank you for adding to the list of reasons I would never want to live in California.

This is truly a valuable public service!