We're pathologically social. We're professional leisurists. We're burrito lovers, bar flies, art whores and music nerds. We dish the good dirt, and we'll risk a parking ticket for a cheap sample sale. Sometimes, we blog drunk.
Libertine and justice for all clubbers
Remember a few months back when I was talking about Harlot on the Sunset Strip? It was supposed to be the bar known as "the little French whore across the street from the Chateau Marmont" until the owner Prem Joshi learned there was already a bar named Harlot in California. Well, it finally opened its doors as Libertine last Friday and there's nothing slutty about it. Exhibit A: Mickey Mouse keeps an eye on the crowd.
Joshi's goal was to make it the anti-club. "When I go out in Hollywood, my shoulders tense up at the door," he said, "But when I'm in Tokyo or London, I feel relaxed. And that's the whole point of going out: to relax." Here, here brother. In line with that train of thought, there's no list at the door or a cover charge. Anyone can get in.
But that's not where Joshi's rebellious streak ends. When he wasn't granted permission to host a happy hour, he declared: "We don’t need a happy hour because we’re happy all the time." The result: $6 cocktails made with premium liquors like Effen, Tanqueray and Jack Daniels—in a part of town where the neighborhood norm is twice that.
The club doesn't officially open until the end of the month—Joshi's debating between the 26th or the 27th—so here's a preview to tide you over.
The club has the feel of a house party, which is due in part to the fact that it used to be an apartment building. (Rumor has it that it was also Charlie Caplin's home in the '20s and a speakeasy after that.)
The DJs are not allowed to play Top 40 and hip-hop. At Libertine, it's all about jazz, electro, house and what Joshi calls "good" rock.
Happiness = free pretzels. Bliss = the upcoming menu from chef Gabriel Morales. "He used to be at Republic," said Joshi, "in the beginning when it was still good."
The steep staircase leads to the stone patio, which used to be a parking lot. There are plans for turning the basement underneath the stairs into a cave-like grotto.
You may have to fork over $20 to the valet parking attendant but at least you have this hotness to look at while you wait for your car.—Alexandra Le Tellier
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