This morning, Page Six reported the following quote from Amy herself:

"I have no idea where these rumors are coming from. We are really just renovating the space . . . It's just taking a lot longer than I had planned."

It's kinda like what Eater's Ben Leventhal reported on Friday!

"I just finally got the blockade reopened on the block after 3 long years! I am redoing the entire space to give it a facelift, that's really all. I am not closing.."

Which kinda corroborates a report someone else put together Thursday night!

The neighborhood's shed some of its worst clubs over the last year or so (Home, Guesthouse, Prime, and less recently: Stereo) and Sacco seems to be trying to position herself within that boneyard to re-launch Bungalow 8 as the hot destination it once reigned over New York as. We're also told that she was offered to go in on a club with someone else recognizing Bungalow's downturn in business, a sexy spot still in the construction phase looking for a leader. Sacco rebuffed their offer, letting them know that she's more than capable of doing it on her own. Burn.

Looks like that stupid reporter's source rolled him the same press line Sacco tested before hitting Eater and Page Six with it. So she's on point with the message. And for all we know, we have to take her at her word. But, real talk:

A re-launch is gonna be hard for Bungalow to pull off. The place used to be legendary, no question. In the pantheon of nightlife history's legends, Amy Sacco was one of, if not, truly the first woman to knock the boys off their feet.

Can you give an old club a new rope? The name means nothing anymore; it's like saying you're going to eat at Spago: Timeless, to be sure. But does anybody really give a shit? The biggest "big" club in town right now is Avenue. The trend is putting nightlife in a bunch of smaller spaces with insanely tight doors. Does it matter that she's going to be the only one left in a neighborhood left for dead? Wouldn't that be the kind of thing to work against her?

We'll find out. It's not like we're rooting for her to fail. If anything, Sacco's success is good for these pages: if the new Bungalow can be anything like the old one, there're plenty of awesomely ridiculous celebrity shitshows to fall out of there, literally.

An alleged employee of The Box told Down By The Hipster that the club is drastically cutting costs: cutting performers' pay, firing the band and the stagehands, cutting performances, and hiring cheaper doormen and performers. Well, that would make The Box pretty much like every other club in NYC. As long as there are twins left to do sex toy fetish shows, there is hope.

[DBTH. Pic via]

Earlier this week, the Nightlife Preservationists—dedicated to keeping clubs cool and shit, and making sure they don't suck because of sucky people who should just go back to Kansas or wherever if you can't take the noise, bro, welcome to the Big fucking Apple—had a launch party for their cause, hosted by Chloe Sevigny.

Chloe wore a "Save the Beatrice" T-shirt, a reference to the West 12th Street place that was recently shut down by the city. Her brother, Beatrice owner Paul, who deejayed at the party, also had his hipster hangout on the brain. He refused to give an interview, blaming the media for the closure by publicizing the nightly clouds of cigarette smoke inside. The NPC plans to support candidates who support nightlife, and City Council members Peter Vallone Jr., David Yassky, Jessica Lappin and Gale Brewer all made appearances amid the thumping music and gyrating go-go dancers.

The image associated with this post is best viewed using a browser.1. Peter Vallone, Jr. is a total asshole who would love to throw all graffiti writers in jail for decades and vowed to jail parents if their kids are found drinking, neither of which should go over well with the "nightlife community." Solidarity, party people.

2. This party was invitation-only. That's not "nightlife." That's your personal schmoozefest. Kind of like the Beatrice!

3. As civic causes go, "Save the Beatrice" is roughly on par with the right of NYU building occupationists to have vegan lunches delivered.

4. Let's tackle this issue after we finish up the "education" and "health care" things.

Other than that you have our full support.
[Party pics!]

The rich can't even afford to go to the Hamptons this year. Who shall take their place? The wearers of Axe Body Spray! It all makes perfect sense:

While other brands have sponsored party spaces, like the Polaroid Beach House in Malibu or the Esquire Apartment or the Playboy Mansion, this is one of the first brand-sponsored nightclubs going for a full season.

For its branded mating experience, Axe selected a big club on Southampton's main party strip, North Sea Road. The club has been known as Dune for the last couple of years, but this summer it will turn into the Axe Lounge.

Where better to meet a nice guy than "The Axe Lounge"? It's the place where young men who see their own stories told in Axe Body Spray commercials and the women who love them can meet!

There will be Axe branding on the D.J. booth, menu and valet tickets; an Axe-themed drink; and Axe products in the men's and women's bathrooms...But, Mr. Heller said, the branding will be relatively subtle.

DUDES COME MEET SLUTS HERE AXE AXE AXE axe (last one for subtlety).
[NYT]

And for anyone thinking they can make a killing in the nightlife business, there's one number you should know: Even a club as successful as Marquee cleared just $2.4 million in profit in 2007. Try living on that after you've split it among all your bellyaching investors.

Regular street urchins, they are! Anyhow you can expect that figure to be wayyyyyyyyyy lower these days. Marquee's winning strategy, according to Harvard:

The secret is: Be selective about whom you let past the velvet rope, limiting the "filler" in favor of the hip, with just enough bankers to make a profit but not to make the crowd too square.

I believe the nightlife success formula now is "Be a front for illicit money-laundering," but I'm not sure. At least bankers will never stop throwing money around! [NYP]

The Reverend Gregory Malia, from the hilariously-named town of Wilkes-Barre PA, makes his bones selling pharmaceuticals to hemophiliacs. He spends his bones at posh New York nightclubs, treating tables to $10,000 worth of champagne and buying $25,000 magnums of Dom for himself. He's unapologetic about it, claiming that he still donates 20% of his salary to the church. Plus he's not some small time rube, he argues:

I'm a national businessperson dealing with very chronic and severe illnesses that cost huge amounts of money. I'm not running a mom-and-pop store.

But the church doesn't see it the same way, and he's under investigation. It could lead to him being permanently stripped of his priestly title. Which is too bad!

He's a jerkwad with a publicist and who probably says, somewhere in the dank echoy realms of MySpace, that he "makes it rain," and his brother says that he was a hemophiliac orphan who had it tough growing up, and that is sad. But if a man of the cloth, a man of God, can go clurb-bumpin' til the cash registers ring with glee, then maybe all is not lost. The Almighty is on our side, fiscally at least. And drunkily.

And that ought to count for something.

(What I generically imagine are) Shitty one-syllable clubs Quo, Myst, and Prime didn't wait even a full day to send out this press release to Alex Geana:

Quo, then Myst and finally Prime were one of the most successful "bottle" venues in NYC. We took full advantage of that era. But now, that era is over and its time for a new model.

With the new Prime comes a new attitude and a new goal creating pleasure for the customer and making the party a fun party. Admission will no longer be driven by bottle sales. If someone looks good enough to get in and comes with the right attitude, they will get in without bottles.

On Monday, the whole fucking era was over, just like that, kaput! Quo says so! Furthermore, a new goal of creating pleasure for the customer. Which stands in opposition to the old goal: Pissing off everybody except I-bankers. We applaud this new nightlife paradigm.

[Alex Geana; pic via here]

Neel notes that the Olympian was accompanied by an entourage of striped-shirted schmucks, one of whose sole duties appeared to be pointing a flashlight at anyone attempting to photograph the swimmer during his efforts to obtain a gold medal in ass-grabbing. ("It was unreal," says Neel. "Within moments of entering the club he summoned two girls over... I've never seen such an aggressive grip.")

[More at Radar]

Sacco's rise to fame is familiar by now. She's just a Jersey girl who came to New York City, worked in the restaurant business, and made some important friends who eventually bankrolled her first club, Lot 61. She hit her peak with the opening of Bungalow 8 in 2001, which succeeded in turning the once-barren area of West Chelsea into the club capital of New York—to the point of destroying the exclusivity and isolation of the neighborhood that helped attract the top models and A-list celebrities to Sacco's clubs in the first place.

But Sacco's more recent history is one of unmistakable decline. She opened a Bungalow 8 in London, which received (and still receives) a tepid reception from the locals. Bette, the restaurant Sacco opened as a "neighborhood joint" near her own Chelsea apartment, closed without warning earlier this summer. She got a slew of nightlife and image consulting jobs that, while lucrative, aren't nearly as glamorous as her former life as an NYC tastemaker. And she says she's simply getting tired of it all:

After three decades in the game, she was bored and worn out. As Amy admits, “If I’m bored, I’m just miserable and I think that translates.”...

“I’m in Vegas, London and New York,” Amy says, “and I’m adding to my calendar. I definitely want to go to Dubai.” When she’ll return home is unclear. She’s been renting an apartment in London since November. “Certain people bitch and moan because I’m not in New York,” she says, “but I can’t be everywhere. I deserve to have a life.”

Now she has a new, younger boyfriend—London chef Andrew Lasseter—and says vaguely that she's "gone into hedge funds and finance." That presumably would help with the $179,000 tax lien leveled on her apartment, which Stein says may or may not be cleared up by now.

Of course, money shouldn't really be a problem for Sacco now. She talks about wanting to "reap the fruits of my labor," and no one would deny her the privilege. But that may involve her acknowledging that her moment is past, and ceding the nightlife crown to a new generation. Bungalow 8 is no longer hot in New York, and Sacco's decision to take the club to London rather than, say, Vegas when it was still popular may have cost her the chance to cash in on brand at its height.

People get older, and stop clubbing as much. In the same way, club moguls see their popularity wane as their proprietary crowd gives way to newer, younger stars. So what? Amy Sacco can either move into the more serene field of hotels, like Ian Schrager, or hang it up altogether. Less buzzing around is usually a healthy thing.

[P6 Mag]

Nazarian is remaking The Sahara, a former Rat Pack hangout on the Vegas strip that's become a piece of crap: "Outside, life-size Arab figures pull a row of cheesy plaster camels. Inside, $34-a-night rooms pull in pack-a-day low rollers."

But Sam is changing all that! He's remaking the hotel, and the casino, and the restaurant, and the clubs! Soon the Sahara will be the awesomest Lindsay Lohan hangout ever. Although it may or may not cure what seems to be his confusion over whether he's a young superprodigy or a wizened old business genius:

After dropping out of college, Sam Nazarian invested family money in commercial real estate and began to amass his own fortune. He was 22 years old and was known as Samy Boy. Today, his public-relations team says pointedly, he is addressed as Sam...

Although he and his PR handlers cringe at the term "nightclub king," Mr. Nazarian became known through the Hollywood club scene, starting in 2003. He formed SBE Entertainment (for Samy Boy Entertainment).

First, change your company's name. Then, fire your PR team.

[WSJ]

"A notice at Pacha gave the following information for the club shutdown. There has been surveillance of the club since Aug. 11, 2007. Since that time, the warrent said, there have been drugs bought that included Ecstasy in various quantities for about $20 per pill; cocaine, up to as much as $750 worth; marijuana; and 'alleged' ketamine (which could mean it was sold as Special K, but might have been a substitute).

"The warrant cited drug buys within the cub on dates from August 2007 into June 2008, but the big drug buys only started occurring around December of last year." [EdgeNewYork]

A tipster to Eater says:

At Bette last night for the closing party. I live and work in the area and dined there fairly regularly. The bartender told me that Amy Sacco sold the restaurant and gave the staff about 8 hours notice.

Cold. Why, we remember a few years back when we were talking about Sacco's "quest for total domination," and HBO was planning a story about her rise to fame. She had so much success in the city, she said she'd rather die than return to her native Jersey.

Then things started to slowly go downhill. Rumors flew that Sacco was stiffing her PR agency; the usual suspects started placing bets on when Bungalow 8 would close. Her doorman struck out on his own. She tried to export her magic to London, but failed to find the same popularity.

Sacco recently called New York nightlife—and herself—"overrated." Now she's been proven right.

Victim number 1's friend wanted to call 911, however the two owners of the nightclub, Sartiano and Akiva, told the friend NOT TO. 911 was called regardless. The club owners then wanted to rush the victim into a car when they knew the ambulance was coming. A minute goes by and the attacker was able to walk right out of the club, without security questioning or anyone's interference, even after the victim's friend screamed out "that's the guy!"

Interesting that a popular, exclusive club with extensive experience handling lots of excess and otherwise unwanted guests`— and run by four club veterans — had so much trouble holding on to this one troublemaker. On the other hand, no witness or victim has yet stepped forward to put their name behind their version of the story, and few club patrons are equipped, at 2:30 am, to be definitive eyewitnesses to anything.

[Post]

(Club photo via Men.Style.com)

I wanted to contact you today and see if Gawker would be able to run a story about a hate crime that occurred early Wednesday morning at the trendy NYC nightclub 1 Oak which is owned by Richie Akiva and Scott Sartiano (dated Ashley Olsen, and Jamie Lynn Siegler) -

Early Wednesday morning (June 18th, 2008) at approximately 2:30AM - two individuals were attacked by a man inside 1 OAK. and were called "faggots" - victim number 1 had to be rushed to the hospital due to massive blood loss. Victim number 2 had no visible wounds at the time.

Victim number 1's friend wanted to call 911, however the two owners of the nightclub, Sartiano and Akiva, told the friend NOT TO. 911 was called regardless. The club owners then wanted to rush the victim into a car when they knew the ambulance was coming. A minute goes by and the attacker was able to walk right out of the club, without security questioning or anyone's interference, even after the victim's friend screamed out "that's the guy!"

The attacker turns out to be someone that frequents the club often and knew the doorman and the staff, since he was able to walk right into the club and said hello to the doorman in the beginning of the night. When questioned, the owners claimed to not know who the attacker was, and provided no information.

Victim number 1 ended up with 5 stitches, a broken nose, busted upper and lower lips, and lacerations around the face. Victim number 2 suffered from acute migraines due to an attack to the back of the head. A police report was filed the next day. However the club owners did not seem concerned, and did not supply the name of the attacker and did not phone the victim to follow up on the progress or the status.

The owners of the club did not seem to care for what happened within their club, and only was concerned that the police was not informed and no press comes out of this, they wanted to retain their public image.

From 1 Oak's PR firm, Shadow PR:

Unfortunately, the situation that occurred at 1OAK was out of the establishment's control. 1OAK is cooperating fully with the necessary parties and hope the matter is resolved immediately. This inappropriate behavior is not acceptable and will not be tolerated.

[Interior pic via Men.Style.com]

The Gramercy Park Hotel's super-exclusive private roof club:

The space consists of a few drawing rooms crammed with Damien Hirst paintings, ringed by a large terra cotta patio.

The Spotted Pig's super-exclusive third floor:

This exclusive apartment is ironically small and simple, housing a tiny open kitchen, a sofa, two long tables, and two fridges. 'One is stocked with beer,' says a regular.

Cipriani's super-exclusive upstairs:

In the words of one habitue, a 26-year-old model, it's filled with 'slimy guys who want to hang out with younger women.'

The super-exclusive "underground" club called Upstairs:

'Patrons ascend a set of stairs, walk down a graffiti-lined hallway past the bathrooms, and open a door into the club itself. It's really one of the least stylized nightclubs ever.' Upstairs is a sparse, cheaply furnished room with banquettes lining the wall and utilitarian lighting.

One day, baby. One day.

[Joshua David Stein]

Now readers of blogs can choose to not read books the cheap way. Elizabeth Wagley, a communications adviser for Doctors of the World, has founded the Progressive Book Club, which hopes to harness the power of the Internets and is already off to a good start by complimenting the vast competitive conspiracy: "The right has always understood the power of ideas, the power of books as legitimizers of ideas," Wagley tells the New York Times. Unfortunately, at about $1 a book, her left-wing pricing is as mercenary as the middle-aged and grumpy Conservative Book Club. Also, Michael Chabon, Erica Jong, and Todd Gitlin choose your monthly selections, so hope you like chess-playing Zionist sex fiends obsessed with the sixties.

Michelle Berger, the Progressive Book Club’s chief operating and marketing officer and a 10-year veteran of Bertelsmann’s book clubs, said readers still wanted someone to “cut through the clutter” of titles. The new club, she said, would also improve on the old model by eliminating paper catalogs and offering a social networking component on its Web site, as well as the opportunity for members to form local book discussion groups.

Await the MySpace widget for "I applaud Michael Harrington's attempt to bring class back into the national conversation." But will going online boost sales? Bloggers who write books haven't been so successful (we have the Venn diagram to prove it). And one reason — oddly unmentioned in the Times piece — why politically oriented book clubs are suffering from diminishing returns is that their target readers are too busy exiling each other from Daily Kos, or watching Michelle Malkin do this on YouTube.

[New York Times]

All Nude Private Club!

To whom it may concern:

I would like to proudly announce the opening of my first adult club, COUSIN VINNY'S LITTLE SECRET! This private club located at [REDACTED] in the Bronx, NY is the first of it's kind. During the day it is an extraordinary "Subway style submarine sandwiche shop" offing the highest quality meats along with the freshly baked bread that you would expect from the offspring of a longtime Subway Restaurant. In fact this was a Subway franchise up until May 2008 when we were disenfranchised due to politics and differences of opinion as far as marketing is concerned.

At 10 PM Wednesday through Saturday this seemingly harmless sub shop becomes the wildly, exotic and explicit, all nude private club "COUSIN VINNY'S LITTLE SECRET". The club is located in the rear, private area of the restaurant and is strictly PRIVATE! You must pay a one time fee of $20 to become a member. Some of the advantages of membership are the following: unlimited access to the semi private lap dance rooms, 6 hours of non stop, hardcore, live action from some o the most beautiful young ladies who have ever chosen to take their clothes off in public, a bring your own booze policy that will save you a heck of a lot of money in comparison to the average club, unlimited fountain soda for your mixers, a footlong sandwiche of your choice, and a discrete and totally safe atmosphere to indulge in your carnal fantasies. Our ladies are eager to please and not to mention the fact that Cousin Vinny Agnello has been a leader in the erotic arts for over 15 years. He has been called, "the creme de la creme" of the adult industry by famous celebrity, Tony Kornheiser from Monday Night Football fame! Cousin Vinny Agnello was ever referred to as a "celebrity" by Diggs.com, a very famous website. Cousin Vinny for years has been in the eye of the storm of controversy — taking on such famous law enforcement officials as Jeanine Pirro, who tried in vain to take Cousin Vinny down. Cousin Vinny Agnello is controversial, entertaining, and fun. He does not take the media attention too seriously but is the first to tell the best and most interesting life stories. Cousin Vinny is most of all known for his high QUALITY FEMALES! Why don't you stop by and meet Cousin Vinny and find out why this former soap opera actor and male stripper has such notoriety. Come to our grand opening! Sit in a prive 24 seat theatre and watch the ladies bathe together in the see through shower, or watch them indulge in their lesbian fantasies! It's all there and more at COUSIN VINNY'S LITTLE SECRET PRIVATE CLUB AT [REDACTED]. MEMBERSHIP HAS IT'S PRIVILEDGES!

PS: the first 24 gentlemen to arrive on show nights will be admitted on a first come first serve basis. Admission is $50. We advise all patrons to please call for reservations in advance. Cannot remember our phone number? Simply call information for the number to the Subway Restaurant on East Tremont Avenue in the Bronx! Hope to see you soon!

Sincerely,

Your friend with the ladies,
Cousin Vinny Angello