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First impressions: There’s a new nightclub in town called Paparazzi.
Strike one for bad names.
And not just because the name conjures up images of sleezy bearded men in stained T-shirts and cargo pants yelling, “Lindsay! Lindsay! Hey, Lindsay! What you think about your dirtbag dad?”
Then there’s the big outdoor television screen that, when I arrived at Paparazzi at Ward Centre late Friday night, was projecting some kind of Jessica Simpson footage.
Strike two.
And I wasn’t even through the door yet.
Through the door: Paparazzi — owned by George Kail, who also owned former clubs Pink Cadillac, Maze, 3-D and Blue Zebra — is where Brew Moon used to be, on the second floor of Ward Centre.
The space is mostly recognizable, but instead of having two distinct rooms — one for the bar and one for dining — it’s now all bar and dance floor, with tables rimming the exterior. It doesn’t stand out visually, but it’s not offensive either.
Except for the parts of the bar that are covered in leopard-print carpet — more Moonlite BunnyRanch than not. What happens at Paparazzi, stays ... never mind.
Sweet redemption: It gets better. Sure, there are a couple of strikes against Paparazzi at this point (the carpet is too garishly awesome to be a strike), but it does get better.
When I ask our cocktail waitress if they serve food, which they do, according to all the information I’ve received on the opening of the club, she says, “No, no food. Sorry.” And then adds: “I wish I had some snacks in the back. I would bring them out for you.”
Strike one, erased.
I don’t care if you name a nightclub TMZ, as long as you hire super sweet cocktail servers (who are hard to come by in this city, but that’s a different story), I’ll forgive just about anything.
Even better: Then super sweet cocktail waitress brings the drinks, and they’re cheap — $5 for a bucket of gin and tonic.
Strike two, erased.
The sound of music: Paparazzi isn’t trying to be anything but clubby in its music fare. We heard all the usual suspects, from Rihanna’s “Don’t Stop the Music” and Madonna’s “Celebration” to Pitbull’s “Hotel Room Service.”
But the fact that we heard two Lady Gaga songs that weren’t “Paparazzi” was ... disappointing.
Who wouldn’t want to hear “Paparazzi” while sitting in Paparazzi? That’s not unreasonable at all.
Crowd control: By 10:30 p.m., Paparazzi is packed. And why shouldn’t it be? It’s in an ideal location, with plenty of free parking, a good sound system, a dance floor and cheap drinks.
As for the crowd itself: If you like Oceans 808 or Bonsai, you’ll probably like Paparazzi.
Dress code: There is a dress code, but apparently it only applies to men. At least that’s what the girl in the faded denim shorts and slippers seemed to be saying.
But for the rest of you: The dress code is in full effect. That means shoes and collared shirts for men, and short, tight dresses for women. You know the drill.
Take the party outside: The best part of Paparazzi is the lanai. It’s where the club ends and the lounge begins, and on beautiful winter nights in Honolulu, nothing beats late-night cocktails on the lanai.
And that big screen with flashing images of tarty pop stars and pretty boy bands? Think of it as ... mood lighting.
What other people are saying...
InfiniteBliss from Makiki - November 20, 2009 at 4:32 PM
Why must all the Hawaii clubs look like LA clubs. Be original!
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