THE NIGHT STUFF
The wonder of the long-lasting Wonderlounge
By Derek Paiva
Advertiser Entertainment Writer
| |||
 |
|
||
|
|||
|
|
||
| |||
|
|
||
| |||
|
|
||
Like this column, it's likely Wonderlounge's promised world of after-hours wonder no longer holds the same appeal to you that it once did. But you've got to throw up some serious props to the W Honolulu's venerable weekend party.
Why?
First, while countless clones have come and gone like so many weak $10 flavored martinis, Wonderlounge has been doing the upscale-restaurant-turned-late-night-lounge thing solidly for an enviable half decade. Its mood and ethos — much of it influenced by the W hotel chain's coolly modern, adult-playground vibe — remains a model carefully studied by promoters eager to capture Wonderlounge's monied, excessively fashion-conscious clientele.
Finally, the Friday (and now Saturday) night weekly still commands a remarkably strong — though thankfully no longer quite so obnoxious — following. And as always, Wonderlounge remains a haven for some of the most funky, diverse clubgoers you're likely to see on a night out.
A few examples:
Male cleavage posed a minor threat to the female variety 'round midnight when I spotted a handful of men with dress shirts open to their lower torsos. And are flip-up collars and argyle vests back in vogue?
Paging Paula Rath!
Votives, overhead tracks and discreetly placed DJ lights still keep Wonderlounge proceedings moody and low-key luminous. In Diamond Head Grill's main dining room, a slightly mashed-up mix of well-known Top 40 hip-hop and R&B left little room for house grooves; in a smaller side room, slightly more underground beats ruled.
Thankfully gone were the weekly's oh-aren't-we-so-bloody-decadent percussionists and go-go dancers.
Rumor had it that a klatch of empty reserved tables was being held for Dr. Dre and his crew. He probably would've needed 'em to get noticed in this crowd.
Reach Derek Paiva at dpaiva@honoluluadvertiser.com.
