Friday, June 19, 2009

06.17.09 ~ LAVO: 2 & 1/2 Fab Point(s)

You really can't judge a club by its goers. I mean- for the most part.

It's LLE

And as much as I have to say about how I thoroughly enjoyed LAVO last night I just didn't love the 21st birthday party next to me.

I was in a sorority in college- so I get it. I understand the need to get violently trashy sometimes. But I also had 'sisters 'to make sure I went home with some dignity. 

Let me explain as I get into this fair review. 

Juli and I were meeting friends at the Palazzo for a birthday party. 

Tables on hold and party well underway as we head into the parking garage- which, btw is a complete clusterfu*k. I just don't know how its possible to get so lost under there. 

But, as we drive in the security guard (what's the point of him, anyway?) said 'Go ahead  lovely ladies'. If he's not gonna stop us- the lil black girl and the big boobed Israeli I just don't know who he is going to stop.

I digress...

We find a sweet parking spot and I wonder twitterfully why we don't spend our time valet parking? I think part of it has to do with the fact that us locals just. don't. really. valet. We just aren't THAT lazy. Granted, we're pretty f'ing chill...but come on? I love my valet parker friends- but I just don't want you doing my dirty work on this one. I can park in the garage- stilettos and all.

We head up into the Palazzo- whose layout is just so easy. I never get lost once inside. Even though it's a circle- like the Hard Rock- the HR still confuses me, but the Palazzo makes me feel calm.

We get into the casino- and from our spot we wind up right in the middle of the action. Such a strategic move, Palazzo! We head toward Lavo. Feeling pretty good and laughing about something fabulous as we walk up.

We're greeted so pleasantly and I began to mumble in shock.

'uhh...our friends have a table...'

to which the bouncer responds with a tweeked eyebrow 'so you're on the list?'...before I answer and with a wink he lets us past the rope. Yes, its so classy Lavo still employs the rope.

The restaurant is downstairs and we head above it all past some very zen-like hallways. By the time we get to the club I neither believe we are upstairs nor do I believe we are in a casino. It feels very NYC...something, underground, in fact. But, alas- its not underground, it's above ground. Some secret hidden dance party. The restaurant so far below with its own music. We are in a totally new space. 

I stop and twitter about how peaceful it feels. Which is weird for a club.

Serenity ensues and we walk through the crowd of beautiful people as we find our table in the back. 

Amazing music, good friends. Lots of vodka cran's. All our girls and our #1 faggie pie Leon 

We take our seats and begin the people watching. 

Strangely there is a vast distinction between the young and the old. We have some salt and pepper to our left and the sorority girls gone wild on the right. 

Everyone was well dressed and I felt a little less vogue than usual. Juli and I brought out the jeans. Although I will head out to get a leather skirt and white wife beater tank after I saw how well  one of the GGW ('girl-gone-wild') pulled it off. 

As the night progressed the girls got drunker and the men started standing to make sure their faces were in the perfect twat-viewing position. 

In VIP there is a small runway-like-stage. Unfortunately after a bottle or two of Sky vodka no 'sisters' were around to keep their girls in check.

boobs began flailing. 
twats were COMpletely exposed.

At some point Leon remarked "I thought Living Lohan was cancelled"


I decide to do a favor to womenkind, feminism and the womens rights movement and after hour 3, it's about time to say something woman-to-woman.

This has gone on too long. 

In fact a table of large men posted up in VIP under the stage and just looked up at the flailing exposure pondering weather they were at a strip joint. They put their dollas away. Getting the milk for free and all, like the old addage goes. 

So, I so slowly walk over to the GGW table and pour myself vodka from their bottle. Make myself a drink. 

What? They did not even notice. And they deserved to give me a shot. Or two.

I waltz on over to the stripper stage.

Funny, I tap on her leg and she slides down the wall trying to make sure I don't see her underwear...aka...the string keeping her together.

'Oh honey- we've seen it all. Maybe you want to come down now?'

I didn't intend to be so catty. It just came out that way. I sip on my drink. She immediately rolls her eyes, stands up and tells her GGW friend. Pointing and all.

So- I go back to my table and watch them point. My friends begin to rally. They point back for no reason. Cause they're gangsta.

...I don't know how it turned so quickly into some pre-fight bitch-slap-about-to-happen-scene. But that is what it was. Pointing. Whispering. Shit talking. 

My bad.

Well GGW2 starts to head down from the stage. I decide, as I'm confrontational and all, that I will go and address any concerns she seems to have. 

'I was just trying to help' I say...why is this coming out so bitchy, LLE I ask myself?!

'WhAT.Everrrr. Its VEgasssss'

'ya, but that doesn't give you carte blanche to show your twat inappropriately to the entire club' I so genuinely reply. cause, really doesn't.

I'm pretty sure she didn't know the meaning of 'carte blanche'. 

'Well Your tiTS are hanging out'

'ya, but my tits are nice'...cause they are.

plus- don't give that shit away for free. Who are you? Don't you know your body is worth a lil money? Head over to female owned 'Talk of the Town.' They pay for that. 

Of these things, I whole heartedly approve.

At this point its time to leave. It just is. End of story. Case closed. My work here is done. I just can't seem to find any more value in staying. Plus, its 2am and I'm sober. 

So, what shall we conclude? Let the GGW's go wild?Maybe they saw all those 'what happens in Vegas' commercials and really believed it. Now they are on blast from the socialites. 

And, as I leave this soapbox- let me just conclude: clevage vs. hanging twat? I think cleavage is always classier. 

Not saying I'm classy. 

I'm just not THAT bad.

Cheers to Lavo! Awesome atmosphere- now do a better job of regulating your drunk whores. Its gross. You're a classy venue- so keep it that way. 

I don't come to the Palazzo to mother young girls who might slip and fall on a disco stick. I'm trying to prevent unwanted STD's.

You're welcome.

just sayin.





Date of visit:

Thursday June 18, 2009








Beautiful atmosphere. Wonderful décor and layout. Amazing DJ, courteous staff, amazing wait staff

W-What a mess!

The clientele

O-Other Options

Be more discerning with clientele. Issue cab vouchers and get inebriated girls out of the casino. Regulate more.

T-Think about it…

Can really become a hotspot if you can retain locals. Lots of competition with the 20 somethings- like Hard Rock and Palms. Need better market segmentation.


Comments: Staff and atmosphere is superior. Music is amazing. Waitstaff is wonderful. Unfortunately the clientele will retain or dispel customers. Encourage regulation and keep the venue classy. This isn’t a venue with sticky floors like a frat house, so be sure your clients treat it with as much respect.

2½ of 3 SCS FabPoints

As stated, amazing place. We look forward to going again with less grey hair and less 21st birthday parties in VIP. We couldn’t grant 3 full points because the experience was tainted.