I want to write about last night's Rock Band party (was a smashing success), about the dapper Patrick McMullan and his annual St. Patty's day party, and even how it still makes my week to bump into nonagenarian Zelda Kaplan, dancing the night away underneath her hats that hold the stories of our city's posh party crowds. But, right now, before I do anything else, I must pay my due respect to Bungalow 8...
Bungalow 8 is nothing more than an old building in Chelsea, with potted palmetto trees, faded black and white striped/polka dotted booths, and painted walls that are supposed to make you feel like you are in a cottage at the Beverly Hills Hotel. The "No Vacancy" sign over its door is to remind you that there's no room for you...unless of course there is, which is entirely up to Disco. The location and decor are irrelevant at this point...because it is the people that bring those walls to life that have made Sacco's creation a legendary institution.
As my friend (and fellow writer) Kelly Will emailed me last week after her own Monday night out at Soho Grand and the likes: "Just when I think I'm about done with the usual social scene I get all inspired again by one truly great event." And last night's final stop at Bungalow was my inspiration.
I have to first mention that we had a Californian accompanying us, who not only had never been to Bungalow, but had never heard of it (or Patrick McMullan or Zelda or Sacco...) Right away I had to decide what I thought about this. On the one hand it's a little shocking that someone didn't know what Bungalow was. On the other hand, it's almost refreshing that there are still people out there that don't give a shit about where Paris was caught crying outside of, or who Tommy Hilfiger's daughter is... the artist with a penchant for 8's. Thus began one of my popular rants that I am known for, on the little bungalow on 27th street. It went something like this:
"This place is like the legend of our generation. It is the Studio 54 but even better because it's more intimate. It made an entire street, no no, an entire industry for that matter. Disco knows everyone that has walked in these doors, can tell you what you were wearing the last time you stopped by 2 months ago and NEVER gets it wrong. Working the door here is not a 'job', it's a career path...just look at Armin. The best thing about Bungalow is that it really doesn't matter how much money you have...that's not how it works at the door at all, and even places that try to do that these days, places like 1Oak and Rose Bar, are just not the same...I know this because I used to come here back when I didn't have money to pay for the cab ride home. Oh, but they do have the option of arranging a helicopter to pick you up on the roof if you so desire. The mix of people here is extremely eclectic...at least 99% of the time, and they are so...OPEN. Open to your ideas, to your dreams and to your energy. I always say if you ever want to start something that a majority of people will tell you that you are crazy for, just spend one night at Bungalow and you will expel the naysayers from your head. Oh and then there's Zelda, over there... her being here makes you KNOW that this is hands down the best place to be in the city right now (possibly the world), now give me a sec while I go pay my respects."
-I go up to Zelda for probably the 20th time in my life I'm sure and tell her how much I love her, and that it's an honor having her in my presence.
It was just another Monday in New York, and while any one of us could have picked Beatrice or Rose, Socialista, or even our cozy beds, I think we all were relishing in a Bungalow fix...something, at least I can say, I haven't had in awhile.
So, while I try and keep my head from falling in my lap right now, and while I know that if 3:00 ever gets here it will be an excruciating hour for me, it is all worth it. Bungalow has a way of doing that to you... and by "that" I mean making you feel like 3 am on a Tuesday is no big deal when you are being twirled on a floor next to a goddess. Bungalow is like an old friend, but better. She doesn't judge you or compare you to anyone. She welcomes you with open arms, and inspiring energy. So maybe I'm "uncool" for still thinking Bungalow's "cool", yet as I walked out of the "anything-but" crowded lounge I hear the echo of Disco: "sorry folks, no room tonight.", and smile.