On Monday night, the velvet ropes were in full effect at 25 Little West 12th Street for the last of the pre-opening parties of Buddha Bar. Past the French-speaking messieurs with clipboards at the door and into the fray. At the end of big hall is the big Buddha, surrounded by a flow of blue-lit water. Turn left into the lounge, complete with opium beds. Turn right into the restaurant with circular banquettes. Pick up glass of champagne, but pass on generic Asian passed nibbles of chicken sate and tuna sushi. Marvel at the highest ratio of tall women/short men couples ever seen outside of Vegas. Contemplate whether or not the fortyish portly gentleman with graying mustache at the turn-table is genuine Buddha Bar DJ. Realize the A-list party was last week – and now they’re all at Tribeca Film Fest festivities. Saunter out the door past the waiting throng in the velvet corral. Sigh contently knowing one visit is all you need.
My dad replied: Buddha bar’s over in Paris.