Meet Ma and Pa Ketel One

In my first foray officially covering Fashion Week nightlife, I teamed up with my doppelganger at Social Domain to hit the town in a stylish 1985 Caprice Classic wagon. He looked straight out of the 1960s swing culture. I did the brown and blue thing (hey, it worked for Shade Hotel).

We headed to Les Deux Cafe, which is still arguably the most popular restaurant/ nightlife fusion scene of the last decade. Unlike many faltering clubs that use Fashion Week simply as a ploy to get people into their regular weekly parties, Les Deux is just plain cool. What I initially thought was nice about the party was the open bar. I like vodka. I liked Dimetapp when I was four. But what I don’t like is a blend of the two a couple of decades later. And, unfortunately, that’s the best way to describe Pinky, the sponsored liquor of the night.

Early on, the most famous face in the crowd belonged to "party line guy," who has been passing out little strips of paper advertising his hotline since the dot com days. Whole floors used to be littered with them. Then we spotted club manager Jeff Henry, fresh from his brutal but honest door policy sound bite in Angeleno magazine. In spite of the private nature of the party, bottle service was still in effect, which meant a lot of sofa surfing, getting comfortable until someone bought the booth and then we moved on to the next table. This went on till we’d literally formed an arc around the patio. And then it was time to go.