Amy Sacco's launch of a branch club in London last year was taken as another perfectly-timed move by the designated "queen of New York nightlife" (Vanity Fair). The neighborhood of the Amazonian entrepreneur's original Bungalow 8, in the 20s of Manhattan, has been overtaken by cheesy megaclubs, and celebrities have defected to newer, less obviously wanky spots, like the Beatrice Inn. Escape to London, the world's hot megacity of 2007? Brilliant! Except the nightclub business is local; Sacco's London network is thin; the charismatic hostess is rarely there; London's suffering as much as New York from the credit crunch; and the British offshoot, at the St. Martins Lane Hotel, is dead, according to our London friends.
Sure, Sacco can count on visiting Americans: movie producer, Harvey Weinstein, threw a party there after the Bafta award gala on Sunday, drawing director Ridley Scott, cross-dressing comedian Eddie Izzard and actress Kate Hudson, among others. But most nights the place is empty. The commenters on View, a local London site, are harsh: "Anyone who has been to Bungalow 8 in London knows what it is really like - an enlarged Manolo Blahnik shoe box, empty, I might add except for a few squat stools. Dull." Sacco had better, as she promised, start dancing on the table tops.