The Scene: Invitation-only opening of the Glen Plaid, the latest in nightclub fun from the people who brought you the Botswana and El Dorado. Set in an old men’s club atop a high-rise (we’d love to say where but if you’re not on the list . . .) guests lounged in burgundy leather booths, gazed at the fog-shrouded view and drank champagne from glasses and beer from bottles. While a live band played swing in one room and a DJ spun funk tunes in another, one couldn’t help but feel glamorous, even if one’s date was missing a few teeth and sported a snake tattoo on his upper arm.
The Buzz: “This is just like Nell’s,” noted several people, some of whom had never been east of Vegas. It was a nice switch from dank downtown warehouses and beer-soaked bars--funny how a club with carpeting can be so adult.
Who was there: Emilio Estevez, who minded having his picture taken; Julian Lennon, who didn’t; Barbara Leary, who protested, “I’m a married woman!” while having her picture taken with Lennon; Tommy Lasorda Jr.; Tommy and Shelby Chong; biker-artists; music video hangers-on; assorted AMWs (actress, model, whatever).
Dress mode: 1930s-inspired gowns and headwraps; biker chic; midriff tops and zoot-suit chains; Audrey Hepburn gamins in sweaters and pearls; white bloomers peeking out from black skirts; round wire-frame glasses; slicked-back hair. Little glen plaid.
Overheard: “You can swing and funk at the same time!” exclaimed one guest. “You can . . . swunk !”
Entertainment: A live swing orchestra in black tie, which prompted those who could to dance, while those who couldn’t watched. Or they went to the funk room and shook it to the music of James Brown. Self-appointed emcee Art took the mike while the band took a break and rambled to the crowd: “Thank you for coming. Thank you for having meeeeee. . . .”
Kids, don’t try this at home: Bikers, like tomcats marking out their turf, revved, popped and sputtered their machines in the parking garage, reaching ear-splitting decibels.
Triumphs: Just when everyone was bidding R.I.P. to the nightclub scene, along comes another reason to stay out until 4 a.m.
Glitches: But is this really what people want? One wonders, since the place peaked at 1:30 a.m., when guests headed off to Canter’s for matzoh ball soup.