Sunday, October 1, 4:27 a.m. "It's a long walk down an even longer red carpet that winds from the Venetian's front entrance, boasting a new Tao-only valet service."
The celebratory weekend reached its climax after 4 a.m., when, for the second night, I found myself treading in a sea of bodies, some in suits and others in far less. I was actually lifted off the floor more than once, the current carrying me deeper into the throng. The club's Owners' Booth sat three elevations of Tao's VIP hosts, friends and family, stacked on the seats, shelf and catwalk. Sandwiched among them were the barely legal and the barely dressed. Crackberries aplenty, everyone faced forward as if about to break out into a warped, Vegas-style club version of "We Are The World," with Tao's managing partners Jason Strauss and Noah Tepperberg as Michael Jackson and Lionel Richie.
The event kicked off Friday night with dinner at 9:30 p.m. Not a catered affair but an opportunity for invited guests to score a prized table—all of which had been reserved—and for the restaurant to still make a tidy killing. The West Wing's Allison Janney was my neighbor, much to the delight of my friend Zach, who all but ran to find her a napkin when her champagne glass runnethed over. "Those cushions are pretty absorbent," he assured her. "So's my ass," she assured him.
At 11 p.m. the club exploded, with DJ Reach on Friday and NYC's D. Nice doing the honors Saturday. Beyond the standard shout-outs to the steady supply of celebrities, the DJs had Paris Hilton and Janet Jackson to work with. There was enough media on hand to fill three supermarket check-out lines, trailing Paris and Janet with their eyes and cameras. Celebrity Island, my favorite spot, earned its name as the ladies lined up like Rockettes to hear Jamie Foxx singing along to "Gold Digger" and watch Lil Jon do whatever it is Lil Jon does besides get krunk and say "What-t-t?" Meanwhile, down in the masses, Jackass Steve-O eschewed clothing altogether.
Back in the thick of it, a thousand-strong crowd still clung to Saturday night, refusing to allow Sunday morning to seep in. The line between VIP and the dance floor dissolved around the six security guards as everyone fought to be a part of the anniversary tableau. Strauss and Tepperberg were joined by owners Marc Packer and Rich Wolf, as well as VIP marketing director Andrew "Goldie" Goldberg, all of whom beamed like proud papas. And why not? Their baby was turning one! And they certainly had plenty to look forward to, what with Tao's Global House Sessions Sundays commencing soon and a new line of Tao-branded clothing and accessories on its way.
I kept trying to congratulate them but with the volume cranked up to "Huh?! Whatdyasay?!" I couldn't do much more than tip my invisible hat to them and clink my champagne glass to their Corona bottles. Somehow the servers, cinched up in corsets that leave zilch to the imagination, functioned amid the frantic scramble, calmly keeping the Veuve Cliquot, Jack Daniels and beer flowing.
Contacted through the club's publicist, Tepperberg—who holds down the fort for New York's Tao and Marquee—wrapped his brain around the monumental weekend after the fact. "Celebrating the one-year anniversary was really a way to thank everyone who has supported us. We also wanted it to be an opportunity to thank our dedicated staff. We wanted the party to showcase how special Tao really is. We wanted to put on a show, not just a party; from Grammy award-winning violinist Miri Ben-Ari to DJ Reach, to the cake, to the dragon."
Wait, there was a dragon?
Xania Woodman thinks globally and parties locally. And frequently. E-mail her at
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