"Party like a rock star" -- a trendy phrase that is grotesquely overused in this city. Truth be known, the only way to party like a rock star is to party with the rock stars, and the only place to do that properly is Body English at Hard Rock Hotel.
The insanity starts at the velvet ropes, where the line of guests vying for attention of the doorman looks like a joint gathering of GQ and Maxim models. That's just foreplay for what's ahead. A nondescript hallway winds around and abruptly stops at a dark entrance. The choice of a VIP elevator or a suspicious staircase lays the groundwork for the foreboding-yet-magnetic vibe of the entire experience. Once you descend into the musical throbbing of the club, which is directly below the Joint, the rock 'n' roll lifestyle starts to come into focus.
Creeping up on a year old, the spot has been marked as one of Sin City's top after-hours hangs. The trifecta of involved talent speaks for itself. Take one: the house of Hard Rock. The iconic establishment has been the stage for stars from Jimmy Hendrix to Aerosmith; nobody can touch that. Enter Los Angeles-nightlife impresario Brent Bolthouse. Long before Vegas had made par in the nightlife circuit, Bolthouse was making Hollywood clubs such as the Viper Room and the Roxbury recognized names across the country. Cap it off with a design influence by Kelly Wearstler, the visual genius behind The Penthouse, the 5,000-square-foot mega-suite in the hotel, and Body English falls nothing short of an extraordinary leap in post-sunset mayhem.
The décor rivals any other exclusive night spot in town. Add the up-market clientele and the visually distracting dancers and cocktail staff, and an atmosphere materializes that is so sexy it almost feels wrong. The contradictory hybrid outfits of lingerie-clad schoolgirl uniforms are always within a delightful sight line. They might be labeled as waitresses, but nobody is paying attention to the drinks they are dishing out.
Those who believe they have the budget of a celebrity can sign up for a $25,000 annual VIP membership, which secures preferential treatment and seating on call.
For those looking for a sole evening of the luxe life, a minimum of $300 can land a booth and a bottle. Now if you are not just pretending to have money like most do for the weekend, set your sights on The Parlor, the super-exclusive hidden room on the floor level with a two-way mirrored wall (only those on the side with the fat bank accounts are able to see through). Still haven't blown the kid's college fund? Top off the night with the Presidential, a $2,000 martini adorned with real gold flakes.
Live it up.