Have you ever stepped into a place and and immediately felt you needed a glass of Champagne? The Beverly Hills Hotel has served to be that destination for me for years. I have had some of the most enjoyable moments of my life at the famed hotel. The Polo Lounge has been a haven of cherished memories-both for those new to LA and even the glamorous locals that include politicians and celebrities. The Pink Palace, as it is known, was even the birthplace for the idea of Man About Town TV.
It isn't a hotel that offers every amenity, and I have to say, I've set foot into more beautifully appointed destinations. But the 100 year old Beverly Hills Hotel has something that no other hotel has, history. I can feel it as I pull up the winding drive lit by twinkling white lights.
The pink facade holds many secrets, many which for the most part, will never be divulged. For those in the know, the Bungalows that sit beyond the main hotel, have been the destinations for famed rendez vous between Marilyn Monroe and JFK, Liz Taylor and her love du jour. Elvis Presley was rumored to keep a bungalow available for use, even though his home was just a few blocks down Sunset. Clive Davis, founder of Arista Records has never kept a home in Los Angeles except for Bungalow 8, which has been his West Coast address since the 70's. Robert Evans' film career began poolside as a casting agent discovered the suave producer, who started out acting. The list goes on...100 years of stories, 100 years of secrets, 100 years of cocktails.
This past summer I was delighted to have been invited to the hotel's 100 year Anniversary Party. This evening kicked off a summer series of events, however, this evening was invitation only and a hosted bar.
The party was quite intimate, beginning at 7:00, the sun was just starting to dip below Sunset Boulevard. This created a luminous setting, so perfect it looked as if the party was happening on a studio back lot. Walking down the stairs to find a glistening pool lit with large orange globes set amongst bouquets of orange roses...Cointreau sponsored the night and the scent of spiced orange filled the out door space. Luca Ellis crooned Sinatra classics over the pool as the guests made their way to one of the three bars. A shaken margarita was my choice. This was no typical bar margarita. No produced and caloric mix added, the cocktail was so fresh-the drink balanced bitter and sweet perfectly. I made my way over to listen to Mr. Ellis' band, Cole Porter's
I Get A Kick Out of You played. Perhaps it was the white jacket I wore that evening, or the several spritzes of Creed's Windsor, but I couldn't help but be reminiscent to an era that I was never even born in. My imagination ran to what this place would have been like in the thirties and forties..."Pardon me Mr. Grant...phone call for Mr. Gable...why hello Lana..." Alas I came to my senses and saw that this elegant setting was inhabited by LA hipsters, blond girls that were appearing in something, Hollywood executives checking their mobiles and lithe men who walked around as if they would have been able to tip-toe across the pool to the bar. Oh Los Angeles.
The Sun was just about to retire as seven beautiful girls in parasols and bikinis walked out. The Aqualillies took over the pool. These gorgeous performers are the hottest act in water ballet and they take synchronized swimming to sexy new heights. Blending the style of Busby Berkeley and electronic jazz, these ladies add glamour and elegance to any deep end they dive into.
By the last number of the Aqualillies, I ran into my lovely friend Kaila, making Beverly Hills just that homey kind of town, where you really do run into people. This then turned into meeting a group of her friends which included the assistant to the headliner that evening. We made our way to the bar and sipped on a light cocktail of Cointreau and club. The pool was glistening under the lamps that lit the cabanas and we all were anticipating the last performance of the evening.
Dita Von Teese would be the final act of the night and as we chatted up her assistant, I could only hope for a chance meeting. Dita has been dubbed the queen of burlesque. I had seen her years ago at Spider, and recalled her alluring way in which her almost alabaster skin caught light as she moved, not danced-to music. She could transfix a room whether it be a multi-story night club or small poolside soiree, causing the men in the room to forget that this was the former Mrs. Marilyn Manson.
As glittering multi-colored palm fronds became lit at the far end of of the pool, the cabana lights dimmed and Ms. Von Teese emerged. It took her just over seven minutes to remove the veiled layers of an evening gown and become a very disrobed Dita as she pranced behind large feathered fans. Even the very "lithe" men had their mouths open. The poolside onlookers cheered.
We dashed over to the VIP cabana for a glass of champagne. The crowd of VIP's and "filler" guests were moving in on Dita. Hopefully my chance to be meet would not be lost. I then made eye contact with the lovely assistant I met earlier, she gave me look to wait. I then thought, what would I say to her, what vocalised jewel could I drop to leave an impression. At this moment I was introduced to Dita, we posed for a picture and she looking very much like a picture herself in a beaded evening gown-the only thing she took off in front of me that night was her shoes. I really don't even recall what I uttered...clearly not a vocal gem. Natalie Portman then joined her and soon it was time to say ciao.
Slowly the cabanas darkened and the music stopped. The bartenders blew out the candles and the guests made their way up the stairs to either the Polo Lounge or the valet. I stopped and and looked up at the Pink Palace. It stood there, grand, regal and pink. It was a 100 years old, and if you don't know, things in LA don't like to age, and that night, the old place felt new again.
The Manhattan has taken me through many moments, and many evenings. I love the rich bourbon and bitter flavor that lingers in my mouth, making each sip a worthwhile investment from the elegant cocktail. However to add to my repertoire for imbibing, I perused an old bar tenders manual and came across the Old Fashioned. I see that there are immense variations in which you can create this cocktail, sugar cubes being muddled with fruit and topped with bright red cherries. Not for me. To muddle orange slices in a syrupy concoction that needs a vulgar maraschino garnish doesn't quite garner a sophisticated sipping experience. I prefer to streamline my recipe that is based on what classic bar tenders prepare. This isn't the old fashion Old Fashioned, its sharp and classic, just like your suit should be. 
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