Making a scene is their job

It’s nearing 11 o’clock on a Friday night, and party promoter Brad White, wearing all black, watches from a balcony as a crowd of freshly coiffed young people swarms outside Highlands, a Hollywood nightclub. “It’s a little nerve-racking,” he says, peering down. Perhaps that’s because White and his partner, Scott Fishkind, are literally banking on the night’s turnout. Their earnings, like those of a handful of other promoters, will be based on the number of their guests who show up.

As anyone who has ventured into L.A.’s night life knows, the newest, trendiest clubs are typically “guest list only.” If you’re not on the list, you don’t get in. If you’re on the list, it’s likely that you or someone you know knows a party promoter -- one of the mostly young, mostly male scenesters who collect people, invite them to clubs and get paid for it.

Promoters keep the city’s night life humming. They operate primarily from their apartments and cell phones, directing the social lives of legions of single twentysomethings via e-mail and word of mouth. Ask any one of these professional nightcrawlers about their significance in the scene and the phrase “create a vibe” will probably surface. That’s because party promoters see themselves as social gurus who divine a sense of cool from the people who surround them.

The business of luring clubgoers is far less esoteric. A nightclub hires a promoter to pack the venue on a specific night. “They get the word out. They get people to know your name ... talk you up,” says Highlands managing partner Tod Griswold.

For this service, the promoter is paid a flat fee, a portion of the night’s door charges or alcohol sales, or some combination of the three.

It can be a very lucrative business. On a typical Saturday, the club Ivar takes in as much as $50,000 in bar and door sales. While fledgling party promoters start at around $25,000 annually, those locked into a loyal crowd of clubgoers can earn as much as $200,000.

The strategies to filling a room vary with the promoter.

BoJesse Christopher and his pals Herman Orjuela and Ron Bruland promote one of the more successful nights in town, Fridays at the club Garden of Eden, an evening called “Rockstar” that draws hundreds.

Christopher, an L.A. native and former actor, boasts a database of 5,000 that features old friends Leo DiCaprio and Tobey Maguire and a slew of other industry types. But he says star power is only one element of a successful night. “First, you want people to pay at the door,” he says. Too many VIPs can mean very few paying guests. “Then you have to find a DJ. Then, who’s your star?” Word spreads of the celebrity potential, and “now it’s a place where they can meet other people.” Essentially, Christopher notes, “we’re trying to create a vibe.”

Jon Gabel, the 32-year-old president and CEO of Gabel Entertainment Network, has created a network of party promoters across the country who build guest lists in Los Angeles, New York, Boston and Miami. He claims that the key to “warming a room” is choosing friends wisely and maintaining those friendships.

“To be a promoter, you need to have 30 good friends and treat them well and protect them and make sure they have a great time,” he says. “They’re going to come to all your parties.”

Back at Highlands, White and Fishkind search the burgeoning crowd for familiar faces. Fishkind spots a slim man in a pinstriped suit and his female companion, who wears black vinyl, and immediately guides them past the rope. A young brunet named Jennifer Goldstein waves to White and gets the same personal treatment. The 24-year-old Loyola Law School student is one of White’s favorites. “She comes to all my events,” he says. “She’ll bring as many as 400 people.”

In return, Goldstein gets free entry and free drinks. For her, it’s a fair trade. “It’s so hard to get into clubs on Fridays,” says Goldstein. “I knew we could get in here and Brad would take care of us.”