I won’t go on my normal rant about how much I hate going to nightclubs in order to avert stereotypical opinions about myself and girls in LA (even though most are true about the latter) , so I’ll just begin with: I will go to soft and grand openings of new clubs because I know everyone who’s everyone will be there and then I can brag about how cool it was on here. That being said, I went to the soft opening of 1OAK in LA…I’m really cool, I know. (That’s called sarcasm for all of you lovely people with 0 sense of humor.)
All jokes aside, after we squeezed through the clusterfuck of people waiting to get in, and were led up to our table on the second floor, we began the typical debauchery that is expected to ensue at the VIP tables of a night club. The venue is the old Key Club, a legendary music club on the Sunset Strip that was famous for its, um, legendary rocker people that used to go there or something. Anyway they re-did it finally, most clubs do every 6 months, and now the upstairs area is a huge U with VIP tables around it and an open space in the middle that allows you to look down at the raging sea of people below. Since 1OAK is also already established in New York and Vegas, I doubt that this club will be changing again any time soon.
The view of the people zoo from the top of the club.
It gets boring at the top sometimes (puts hand to forehead dramatically) so we decided to attempt venturing downstairs. It took longer than normal to get down the steps because Paris Hilton had decided to wear the widest skirt possible while zig zagging down the steps with her giant bodyguard (who took up the whole width of it anyway) trailing protectively behind her. I figured going in the same direction as her was a good idea, especially since she had her own personal Moses to part the Red people Sea.
We didn’t get very far though because the first two tables were packed with every Hollywood scenester friend I know, and I obviously had to stop and say hi and accept complements on how great my birthday party was last weekend (see previous post). After my drink was magically refilled, I decided to continue on my attempted round of the club, heading in the direction that I last saw Paris go in…towards the DJ booth, obviously. I’ve become really good at slipping through bodies of people because I’ve discovered a way to stick my leg behind them and shove them with my hip in order to squeeze through, so it didn’t take me too long to get to my destination.
Leonardo DiCaprio, Bradley Cooper, and Diddy were all at 1OAK after the #GoldenGlobes last week too.
Now, there aren’t many celebrities I get excited to see. In fact, my list is rather short: James Franco (check), Leonardo DiCaprio (check), Chace Crawford (check), Miley Cyrus (check), and Justin Bieber (about to be checked), so when I thought I spotted the Beibs, I was pretty fucking excited. The obnoxious amount of behemoth black security guards at the table indicated that there was either a rapper, gangster party, or Justin Bieber at the table, and praise be to the little lord baby jesus christ in his little bed of hay, it was the Biebs. I’m a Belieber. I stared for a bit, naturally, noting how wasted he looked with his little sunglasses on. I would never go to Cougar Town but he’s definitely one kid I’d like to party with.
His guards pulled us up to the table like they would do to any attractive females passing by, and suddenly I was face to face with a swaggering Justin Bieber. I guess I shouldn’t really be writing this since he’s underage and whatnot so I’ll just leave it at, we said hi. Not that anything exciting happened anyway besides watching the herds of girls try to cram themselves next to the body guards who didn’t budge an inch.
I finally decided to leave around 2am, and since it was the soft opening and I get anxiety leaving places by myself, I decided to be fancy and order an Uber town car to pick me up. I forgot that there were a ton of celebrities there that night so there would be a swarm of paparazzi gnats outside trying to snap pics of anyone who looked even remotely like someone famous. That being said, I quickly learned how to make people think you’re famous…run out of a hip new nightclub and into a waiting Uber SUV. BOOM what’s up TMZ??
Just wanted to throw out a quick mini blog while I blog.
by Alyssa Ramos
Thanks to global warming or whatever else I'm supposed...
January 16, 2014
Hi! I'm Alyssa Ramos, a 27-year-old LA transplant with an extreme case of wanderlust and dream-chasing. I'm proud to say that I've been to 6 continents, over 30 countries, and am now a full time travel writer and the founder of my charity, HeartSleeves.org! Thank you so much for reading!