Bye-Bye, Bohemia
December 23, 2007
By DAN LEVIN
IF you are one of those who brim with nostalgia for the storied Lower East Side, with its grubby soul and vaunted pickle vendors, you might want to stop reading now, before you read too much about yet one more velvet-rope nightclub joining the neighborhood.
If, on the other hand, you like your night life sleek and shiny, you probably won’t mind that none of the clubgoers at the bombastic, impenetrable lounge 105 Riv on a recent Thursday had likely heard of Guss’ Pickles.
Still, there was an air of history amid the flashing red and yellow lights and mod fabric paneling on the walls of the lounge, which recently opened inside the Hotel on Rivington, an original harbinger of bohemian doom east of the Bowery and south of Houston Street.
“It’s almost like Studio 54,” said Brandon Coburn, a 29-year-old architect parked on the corner couch in a black blazer and scarf, “not that I was alive then, but I imagine.”
Apparently, the similarities ended at the décor. “People are pretty well dressed here and there are no wasted girls. I was thinking of texting some friends and telling them to come over here,” he said. Then he paused. “What’s this place called?”
Beside him, a dreadlocked Haitian painter known as Lesny JN Felix, 31, gave his own endorsement from behind oversize sunglasses and a fur-lined hooded jacket. “I’ve been going out in the city since 1998,” he announced. “This place has a chic, sexy energy and lots of cool tourists, which is a nice improvement from what was here before.” (In an earlier incarnation, the space was a lounge for hotel guests.)
Indeed, swirls of French were audible beneath the music, and most of the crowd, including the bartender, looked chic enough to have come from St.-Germain. Men in black turtlenecks and tweed blazers (with elbow patches) mingled with girls in V-neck tunics and biker boots at the glowing bar. A man in suspenders and his female companions kept an eye on their friend asleep on a black leather couch, oblivious to the throng of clapping and gyrating revelers.
Some patrons said they appreciated the mix that resulted from the strict curation at the door. “It doesn’t get too Wall Street or thugged out,” said Dexter Spencer, 34, who owns a telecommunications company and lives in SoHo, “and it’s not random people from off the street.”
But Peter Dixon, 29, a publicist originally from London, who had in fact walked in uninvited, begged to differ. “The doorman told us this is a private party, which is rubbish,” he said, taking a breather from dancing with a tipsy fashion-designer friend. “I like it all — apart from the attitude and the expense,” he said, raising his eyebrows and his $11 glass of red wine. “Those girls are kind of fun,” he added, gesturing toward two women shimmying and giggling in a corner, though he questioned their dancing abilities. “Well,” he said, “at least they’re trying.”
105 Riv
At Hotel on Rivington
105 Rivington Street
(212) 475-2600.
GETTING IN Try warming up to the doorman, and arrive before midnight, especially if you’re among a group of men. Table reservations are routed through the hotel’s front desk.
DRESS CODE For men, blazers, black T-shirts and dark jeans. For women, peasant tops and ankle boots.
SIGNATURE DRINK Black Forest Cake: Stoli raspberry vodka, Godiva chocolate liqueur and fresh raspberry purée, $14.