The good news: It’s a Holiday weekend coming up
The bad news: It’s forecast to rain every single day

The good news: It’s a Holiday weekend coming up
The bad news: Holidays make weird gray relationship even weirder (examples one and two)

The good news: You have extra time off
The bad news: You feel pressured to do something fabulous with it

The good news: You can leave the city for more than 48-hours
The bad news: So can everyone else and their cousin

The good news: Fourth of July fell on a Friday this year
The bad news: That means you need to be organized to leave Thursday, and Thursday’s, like, tomorrow

Panic ensues.

On a separate, slightly more serious note, an issue that’s been troubling my conscious has to do with charity as an excuse to party, and do these events actually raise any money?

This seemed the ultimate party question on everybody’s mind at Steve Nash’s charity event inside SoHo’s Replay store, which I attended exactly one week ago today. On the up side, snaps to Steve Nash for giving a hoot about charity. On the down side, it remained difficult to imagine the shindig would manage to break even since the event included:

2 stocked open bars

6 bartenders

15 attractive cocktail waitresses circling the crowd (my friend noted all the waitresses had legs and shins that looked like a female soccer player’s and asked if I thought they were selected for this exact purpose. I can picture the Craigslist open call ad now: ‘Seeking cocktail waitresses with soccer-esque shins for exclusive event.’)

Unlimited booze

Hamburgers

Mini hot dogs

Chips and guacamole

Vegetables

Quesadillas

Mini steaks

Vitamin water

Gourmet ice cream, and best of all,

Sushi in the shape of mini soccer balls.

Renting out SoHo’s Replay store and hiring a 20+ person wait staff must already have a hefty price tag, not to mention alcohol and food for two hundred people. Less than a dozen jerseys were auctioned off for around a $1,000.


Clearly, I’m missing something because in my mind the numbers don’t seem to add up. Yet I was always a dunce at math, so what do I know? If there is a way humanity can enjoy lux events inside SoHo designer stores while simultaneously helping kids in Africa, I’m all for it.

Party foul! Friday night hotspot club 1Oak’s elegant downstairs bathrooms flooded. Staffers tried to keep the mess under control as quickly as possible with wet vacs but for ladies who didn’t want their $500 shoes destroyed wading to the toilet, the one bathroom upstairs was the only source of relief. Since it was a rainy night, people weren’t leaving the club to party elsewhere, so the crowds continued to amass. And if the potty problem wasn’t big enough, later the cops and fire marshal showed up, noting the party was exaggeratedly over capacity.

The next day, I found myself outside 1Oak and saw a rowdy patron literally catapulted onto the sidewalk. He flew like a human cannon ball from one bouncer’s arms to another’s as he flailed wildly causing a ruckus and screaming something about his Amex card inside. Doorman Ben had to put his hands on the man’s shoulders and soothe his mad sputtering, “What’s your name, sir? Tell me your name, sir?” Soon the Wild One was calmed and breathing heavily like a post-tantrum child. Talk about people skills! That’s why door people in New York make a well-deserved fortune.

So despite a weekend of hullabaloo activity, yesterday’s Blackbook party at 1Oak went off without a hitch. The door was tranquil, the crowd was gorgeous, the bar was open – what more could anyone need? As we positioned ourselves on a banquet to people-watch, my friend Safari whispered, ‘this whole place feels like a London club tonight. Look at these girls! All Bohemian chic.’ And she was right. There were many vintage dresses, bangs, large bags, sunglasses and lots and lots of tights. The music jolted from Spice Girls to Madonna to 80ies classics to rock without anyone seeming to care. Spirits were bright and my only compliant is that they closed the open bar four minutes before schedule (yes, we were those cheap-ass people who were counting.)

My prediction is that after what I imagine is a fire marshal warning, 1Oak’s already Fort Knox doors are going to get even tighter. For anyone who can manage, this locale is absolutely worth checking out. Not only did they spend the equivalent of small nation’s treasury on decor, it has a swanky, fun vibe and dangerously comfortable banquettes. The black and white checkered floor lends an air of elegance; the expensive-looking wooden walls are engraved with romantic script. A fireplace crackles and luminous paintings of blank-faced children and horses span the inner room.

If Kiss & Fly and Goldbar gave birth to a very lavish hybrid space it would look something like this. Or in my words:

“If clubs could metamorphosize into men, I’d want to date 1Oak.”

Miss Model Behavior’s the new nightlife writer for theBlaqlist.com. Feel free to post any nightlife comments or questions on our forum or contact her at MissModelBehavior@theBlaqlist.com