Let’s turn up the sass factor, shall we? NYC is a city like no other but I think for me, its nightlife stands out as remarkable. Glittering, Extravagant, Excessive. NYC boasts numerous mega clubs spread out across Meatpacking, Midtown, and Chelsea, with clubs in the East Village, LES, Soho, and Chinatown having a slightly more laid back feel but often no less exclusive.
In New York, it doesn’t matter who you are but it matters who you project yourself to be. At some clubs, it is much easier knowing a promoter, yes, however I’ve found that if you own it, exude confidence, and channel enough of a betchiness, you’ll gain easy access. I’ve actually said before Do you know who I am? Doormen stop and think… Maybe you are someone important.
Just say you’re on the list with such conviction that the silly girl with the clipboard will think you’re crazy not to be (like at the Darby). Or hop out of the cab at Le Baron and say “I’m here” to the doorman, who can’t help think you’re someone important. I still don’t understand why so many celebrities frequent Avenue but just go up to the doormen with a beautiful party, skipping the line, and gain quick access to the cramped hallway they call a club.
Mind you, don’t expect to dress like a troll and gain easy entrance into the swankiest venues on the east coast. Your outfit needs to be on point. For ladies, height can sometimes get you farther than good looks. Often young financiers drop thousands at the door to get a table and feel “IN”. As I refuse to ever pay covers, I always smile at these silly ex-frat stars as I skip the line.
OK. I get it. These clubs are over the top. And from the outside looking in a promoter can be seen as some form of a pimp. However, it’s part of the NYC scene. People die to have status here, and that feeling of feeling exclusive, jumping a line or having a table at one of the hottest nightclubs, it’s how these mega clubs stay in business.
An anecdote? Le Bain. Easily my favorite club in NYC. A slice of Paris in NYC. You can always hear French in the air at Le Bain. Two floors, a pool, a crepe bar, beautiful views of the Hudson from its rooftop terrace, potentially one of the best views of the ESB from its bathroom, and a bathing suit vending machine. Need I say more? I love Le Bain because there are no promoters, and getting past the doorman is validation that you look good. One time my friends and I were at the door and the usual doormen was not directly near the line so some betch was overseeing. She asked me are you on the list? I proceeded to say with great conviction, Yes, it’s Brian. Nothing else. Clearly I’m comparable to Madonna or Cher. The betch just kind of stared at me before the usual doormen came over, shooed her away, and smiled as we frolicked upstairs.
Now mind you alcohol is surely liquid courage when channeling power bitch at the door, but at the end of the day, who are YOU doorman? I look great, my friends look great, so let me in already. It’s all about owning it.
NYC gay night life? That’s quite a different animal, and a musing for a different day.