Velvet-rope dress codes

The hide you need to get into Hyde

Ronit Nabi, Special to Metromix

February 6, 2008

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Velvet-rope dress codes
(Credit: Shane Redsar)
Watch out, slobs—L.A. is cleaning up its act. The days of pajamas as going-out gear are long gone now that some of the city’s hottest bars are asserting full-on dress codes. Women who usually show off clavicles and cleavage in halter-tops and rock the ubiquitous five-inch Louboutins needn’t fret. It’s the men, more likely, who need to step up their game—think button-down shirts, black jeans, leather dress shoes and some bling on the pinkie—or risk velvet-rope humiliation.

Green Door, the hot new Hollywood bar that features chandeliers, red lights and antique furniture to recreate an ornate French Chateau, likes to match its crowd to its décor, which explains its intolerance of casual get-ups. The dress code at Green Door is “upscale chic,” meaning no torn jeans, no T-shirts and no sneakers. With celebrity patrons such as Jude Law, Charlize Theron and Eva Longoria, it’s no wonder this trendy bar has rules. Who wants to look drab for the paparazzi waiting outside?

French Tuesdays, a roving social-network soirée, is so strict with its dress code that it actually refuses entrance to men wearing blue jeans. According to PR director Camille Toussaint, the club maintains an upscale image by classifying members as either “elegant” or, less favorably, “casual."

“We want to give people in L.A. a chance to look more elegant,” says Toussaint, whose own daily attire consists of dresses and high heels. She claims that 30 percent of members are in fact Parisians (who, she adds, “are already used to dressing up and looking elegant”), and sees French Tuesdays as extending the perimeter of that famously fashionable city.

Santa Monica’s ultra-hip Buffalo Club is so close to the beach you can practically pull fish from the water and grill them yourself. You might, in turn, expect the eatery to welcome lax attire. You would be wrong—the doorman is not shy about asking men to change their shirts or add jackets if he deems them underdressed. As firsthand witnesses to this type of mortification know, attempting to enter while looking less than glamorous isn’t worth the risk, even if it means, for women, walking on stilts and suffering post-martini totter.

So what’s next, tuxedos at Hyde? Does this mean that scenesters need to trade in Havaianas flip-flops for jeweled Jimmy Choo sandals if they seek a Studio 54–style recap? L.A.'s barhopping crowd is diverse; some stand in endless lines awaiting scrutiny, while others prefer after-work drinks in a simple T-shirt and pair of Chucks. With this fresh insistence on “upscale chic” attire, shouldn’t there be a dive bar that rejects those whose jeans aren’t wrinkled nearly enough? Dress is a direct reflection of who you are; playing dress-up when your heart isn’t in it creates a false representation, and no one likes a poseur. Then again, who doesn't love an excuse to buy hot shoes?

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