Who's Got Room Keys?
When you hear "Beverly Hills nightlife," the first thing that comes to mind is a hotel bar, where, uh, mature gentleman (and their wedding-ring tans) attempt to get in your good graces with top-shelf liquor and cheesy jokes.
Which is exactly why we decided to stay away from Plush and Bar210, the new nightspots in the Beverly Hilton, upon hearing of their openings in February.
But a few weeks ago we started hearing that Wednesday nights at Plush were actually pretty cool, with great DJs and a fun, perfect-for-hump-day atmosphere.
Never a fan of feeling left out, we decided to check it out for ourselves. And once we got inside, it wasn’t half bad (And here, it's only young men who attempt to get in your good graces with top shelf liquor and cheesy jokes). Here’s what we found at Plush:
The Buzz: The 7,000 square-foot space sits where Trader Vics used to at the Beverly Hilton. And like any proper Beverly Hills venue, it’s all about the name drop and pedigree: Manager Dan D'Agostino comes from Jet at the MGM Grand in Vegas while former Top Chef contestant Marcel Vigneron runs the kitchen. "Milkshake" singer/rapper Kelis has performed and Cisco Adler has spun.
The Scene: If you took one group of friends from every “current” club in L.A. and plopped them all down in one place, you’d have the crowd at Plush. There’s the trash — who walk around in their faux Pucci-printed polyester mini-dresses like they own the place — mingling with the Middle Eastern tourists who are obvious guests of the Beverly Hilton, combined with a smattering of hipsters in irreverent-looking glasses and the model/actress types they’re trying to land. There are also some cougars drinking wine, arty photographer types and Young Hollywood doppelgangers that you just want to punch for being able to get so trashed on a Wednesday night without worry. But every so often a varied crowd like this one can be fun. Especially when everyone in the place is dancing to amazing rap remixes and has a really big smile on their face.
The Visuals: Walking into Plush feels like you’ve landed on Mars — there's a moody, reddish-purple glow emitting from the sloped ceiling. Purple banquets are accented with walls of gold beading and come complete with snakeskin pillows, which happen to match the snakeskin ottomans that sit in front of each table. Which happen to match the faces of the few bra-less cougars we saw milling about.
The Dress Code: The random crowd made for a cavalcade of random fashion. There was, naturally, some bad — one lady sported a short sleeve western shirt that opened to her navel and, apparently, stayed open due to some strategically placed tape. Another broke out her finest baseball-inspired baby-tee circa 1996. And we saw at least five girls wearing Sandy-from-Grease spandex pants that, let's be honest, don’t deserve to make it past the confines of American Apparel. But on style’s good side we spotted sleek, skinny jeans paired with tribal-inspired stilettos, breezy silk tops and fringed messenger bags. But this really isn’t the place to wear jeans or a maxi dress. Hike up your hemline if you want to fit in.
For the guys, find standard Hollywood club gear — leather hoodies, plaid button downs, jeans and sneakers. We also spotted dapper looking cable knit sweaters with embossed-leather buttons, a brigade-worth of combat boots and some really awful suits. And no BevHills nightlife experience would be complete without the prerequisite Night at the Roxbury-esque duo scanning the room in tattoo-art tops, studded denim and wrap-around shades. Luckily, the well-dressed men outnumbered those fools by a long shot.
The Hot Seat: We preferred hanging outside by the fire pit, which felt very 1960s California. But if you’re looking to buy a table (and there are plenty of them to choose from), prime real estate is just to the left of the DJ booth, where it’s very easy to be seen by the entire club.
The Sightings: Cougar Town’s Dan Byrd. Weirdly, we were watching that show just before arriving. Gotta love L.A.
The Door: Dismal. We dropped a name and were still left waiting for over ten minutes. Once we got inside, a girlfriend came to meet us and made the mistake of bringing a guy, who was told he wouldn’t get in. While he went to drink in the lobby, our friend — now alone — waited for fifteen minutes. We don’t really have any door advice, other than arriving already buzzed (and before 11:30 p.m.), which helps keeps rage at bay. But as Jack Steven, the club’s Saturday night promoter, says on a Yelp invitation: "Girls please only bring your super hot girlfriends...I would hate for you not to get in on this amazing night because you brought your friend with the 'great personality.'" Uck. But duly noted, Jack. Duly noted.
The Parking: If you don’t want to pay for hotel valet, grab one of the limited street spots next to the property on Wilshire.
The Eavesdrop: “You can always follow the birthday sparkler to the fame whore.”
Bar210 and Plush, 9876 Wilshire Blvd., Beverly Hills. 310-274-7777.