SOCIAL CLIMES : The Bachelors Are Having a Ball

Some of The Bachelors like to say that even if bastions of L.A. society such as Chasen’s are disappearing, they aren’t. That’s Bachelors, not bachelors.

The upper-case single guys are the kind of men who know the distinction between a cotillion and a ball. (Cotillions are chaperoned events, Bachelors president Chip Donnelly, 33, patiently points out.) And they’re also retro enough to never let a woman pay for her own cappuccino.

More to the point, the 70-some members who compose The Bachelors relate to the old-fashioned concept of reciprocating the hospitality of married friends who invite them to dinner or fix them up on a blind date or, for that matter, lend them a condo at Mammoth for a ski weekend.

For these chaps, repaying hospitality by fighting over a check at a restaurant and slapping down the gold plastic isn’t enough. Instead, every year they organize a ball (cotillions have fallen by the wayside) and invite as their guests people they want to pay back socially. The ball is the sole function of The Bachelors.

Three Bachelors convened recently to pump up the news that Friday’s ball at the Beverly Hilton is the organization’s 90th, the group having been founded in 1905 by like-minded men.

Of these three current members, one is a fifth-generation Californian, one is fourth-generation and one is second-generation. Meeting for after-work drinks at the Regent Beverly Wilshire, all three are in suits and ties and look rather suspiciously like the types who wear khakis, Lacoste shirts and Topsiders on casual Fridays.

Originally a white-tie dinner-dance, the big do evolved in the ‘20s into a fancy dress ball. When asked what exactly fancy dress means, Donnelly explains: “It’s a British term for costumes.” As opposed to a masquerade ball. “A masquerade ball means you come masked.”

“The term we use is fancy dress,” reiterates Art Rasmussen Jr., 33, immediate past president and a “legacy,” meaning his father was a Bachelor. “People go out and rent elegant, dramatic costumes.”

“The room is filled with Ferdinands and Isabellas, Anthonys and Cleopatras and Mr. and Mrs. Mozarts. Occasionally some table will come as Dennis Conner’s sailing team,” adds ball chairman Steven Leland, 31.

The Bachelors are “not a singles group,” Leland says. “Absolutely, it’s a date party,” Donnelly says.

“It’s built around even numbers for dining and dancing,” Leland adds.

Following tradition, the evening’s theme is a carefully guarded secret revealed only when guests arrive. (Last year’s decor, music and menu were Czarist Russian.)

Another annual ritual is honoring patronesses, women the members salute as community and philanthropic leaders. This year they are Lisa Bell, Helen Maher, Pauline Naftzger, Mary O’Connell and Times writer Mary Lou Loper. Per another old custom, Bachelors never honor their mothers.

Membership requires being age 25 or older (the oldest current Bachelor is in his mid-50s), residency in Los Angeles for at least five years exclusive of college or military service, and being “proposed” or nominated by two members. A board of governors then votes on prospects. When a member marries he is effectively kicked out.

“It would be safe to say membership is friends of friends,” Leland says. While there are no racial or religious restrictions on membership, there are currently no African American or Asian members, although there are some members of Hispanic descent, according to the three.

“I’m not sure we reflect the demographics of L.A.,” Leland adds, “but we’re not White Anglo Saxon Protestant. We have a diversity of religion and ancestry.”

“Each year we refill our ranks internally with what we like to think of as qualities of people that are representative of Los Angeles, with ties to the city and who are active in the social, philanthropic and business communities,” Rasmussen says.

One big question that begs to be asked is, how do Bachelors like being bachelors? The sampling of three concurs that they have no aversion to marriage whatsoever, but just haven’t found the right bachelorette.

It’s possible that they may meet her at the fancy dress ball. “People have definitely met their future spouse there,” says Rasmussen slyly, “and it hasn’t always been their date.”