THE NIGHT STUFF
Hula's remains one of Waikiki's great night spots
By Derek Paiva
Advertiser Staff Writer
I last visited Hula's in the summer of 1997 for a magazine feature, when the club was about a year away from losing the lease on its banyan-canopied Kuhio Avenue oasis of twinkle lights and open-air carousing.
With new Waikiki retail developments encroaching on all sides, it was no secret that Hula's was fast approaching last call. But after experiencing that evening's expertly selected set of dance music (sadly, the last time I ever heard Erasure or Snap! played at a Honolulu nightclub), muggy-with-bodies dance floor, and whipping Manoa Valley breezes, it was hard to imagine a Waikiki without Hula's.
Flash forward a half-decade later. Hula's, which celebrated its 28th birthday last month, is still around, still happening in a less-frenetic (some might say more mature) form. And it's ending its fourth year in a not-quite-as-one-of-a-kind, though pleasantly kitschy new location.
On the Saturday morning we stopped by, the lure of the nightclub was no longer its dance floor (now a separate, glass-enclosed soundproof room), but a roomy and wonderfully open-air South Seas-themed main room offering drinks, pool, male go-go dancers and lots of conversation.
The nightclub was full, with most patrons seated on a hardwood lounging bench spanning the entire length of the room's Diamond Head side overlooking Kapahulu Avenue.
Our table between a revolving door to the dance floor and a makeshift stage featuring a thonged-and-collared male dancer overlooked a four-sided bamboo-and-hardwood accented bar dotted with colorful lava lamps.
Waikiki-themed memorabilia and artwork (including collectibles from the much-missed Kuhio location) were positioned neatly on the walls, and dozens of ornate parasols hung from the ceiling, spinning in the cool night breeze.
Service was quick and our drinks pleasantly kicky. The music diva and diva-lite selections from the likes of Janet Jackson and Jennifer Lopez was pumped into the crowded main room from the dance floor, which at 12:30 a.m. sadly claimed less than a dozen dancers.
With the club starting to empty a bit at 12:45 a.m., we finally found a spot on the hardwood overlooking the street, Queen's Beach in the distance and an almost-full moon lighting the sky.
When not checking out a table of twentysomething males laughing and obsessing over every detail of a "Lady Marmalade" video ("Christina Aguilera looks like Twisted Sister," said one), we entertained ourselves watching Honolulu's Finest bust post-KCCN Birthday Bash tailgaters in the neighboring Honolulu Zoo parking lot.
If every nightclub open since 1974 must show some signs of aging, then Hula's is doing a pretty good job of hiding its wrinkles as it inches closer to its 30s with a mix of classy maturity and cheeky naughtiness.
I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss Hula's Kuhio Avenue (heck, I was practically painting verbal pictures of it for my girlfriend all night). But with its comfortable and welcoming environs wonderfully intact in a different location, it's still difficult to imagine Waikiki without Hula's.
Know a night spot or recurring club event we should be checking out? Reach Derek Paiva at 525-8005 or dpaiva@honoluluadvertiser.com.
What: Hula's Bar & Lei Stand
Where: Waikiki Grand Hotel, 134 Kapahulu Ave., second floor, 923-0669
When: Open daily, 10 a.m.-2 a.m.
Cover: None
Under 21 OK?: No
Age of crowd: Twentysomethings to fiftysomethings
The dress code: Footwear
Attire we saw: Casual to extremely casual attire; casual as in dress shirts, polos and T-shirts with jeans or beach shorts, extremely casual as in shirtless with shorts
Our arrival/departure: Midnight/1:30 a.m. on a Saturday
What we drank: White russian, Bombay Sapphire martini ($10.25 for both)
How crowded was it?: About 100 people
Queue?: No
Sample music: "I'm A Slave 4U" (Britney Spears); "What It Feels Like For A Girl" (Madonna); "Rock The Boat" (Aaliyah)
Dancing?: Yes
Interior in a nutshell: Classy South Seas kitsch with go-go dancers
Overheard line of the night: "Is that thing real?" One patron to another, gesturing toward a male go-go dancer's pronounced (though sheathed) anatomical endowment