If you like having sex in public places, the unisex bathrooms at the Vogue Lounge (2800 Sage) are perfect. There are four clean rooms with locking doors, mood lighting and enough room to go crazy. Sure, you have to wait in line until Nick, the bathroom tsar, deems you worthy, but some things are worth the wait.
The Vogue has lots of lines. If you arrive late, you'll be sequestered outside while a variety of important-looking young men check the reservation list and your attire. They say they're looking for "urban chic" (figure that one out), but it seems the only no-nos are ballcaps and tennis shoes. Lines are essential to Houston nightlife; how else can you feel superior when you finally get through the door and make your way to the line at the bar?
When they opened Vogue less than a year ago, owner Elias Alyassir and his investor partners chose the Galleria area because they wanted to attract customers ready to spend some serious jack, which is easy to do here. Vogue offers bottle service, and for a mere $300 to $400, girls with names like Mercedes and Crystal will serve up your choice of hooch in a block of carved ice and matching tray of drink garnishes. Hell, it beats waiting in line at the bar, as does getting a spot in the club's VIP room, which you could score by calling ahead.
"I want everyone to feel like a VIP," asserts Alyassir, but among the chosen few who actually do enter is the flamboyant Roy Butler, proud owner of several upscale salons. Butler was "born to be a VIP," he says. He and his entourage never wait in line, and order several bottles per night. Vogue regular Christine, a cutie who "luuuuves this place" because the men are "so hot," has only been into the VIP room once before, but this time she booked ahead and brought a bevy of beauties to host her BFF's going-away party.
Vogue's decor is solid white — floors, walls and furniture — sort of like a padded room in an insane asylum that sells drinks. And around midnight, the place does go crazy. DJ Red's seamless mixing one recent Saturday night seemed to mirror the crowd's hidden desires. Red, so confident his mixes and remixes will please any crowd he's starting his own DJ school, was a master of tempo manipulation, his slow groove morphing into pure heat as he dropped the needle on club hits by deadmou5 and The Switch. House music is standard on Saturdays, anything goes on Fridays and since there really isn't a dance floor, Vogue's couches and tables are fair game.
A couple Fridays ago, Afro-sporting Lenny Kravitz look-alike Jeff Taplin debuted his clothing line Sophisticated Bitch at Vogue. The VIP room transformed from a dark dance den to a brightly lit showroom complete with runway, photographers and characters out of one of Andy Warhol's Factory parties. Mizuz Inkaholik, model and cover girl of Tattoo XPosed and Savage, was a big hit with her 12-inch Mohawk and stunning body art. Her best friend Cocoeaux was decked out like a '60s motorcycle mama and danced by herself most of the night. Neither had been to Vogue before and came just for the fashion show.
Some Vogue regulars come for reasons other than dancing or surprise fashion shows. It's simply close to home for Kevin Jahang, car salesman and VIP room regular. Self-proclaimed entrepreneur Gary Easley, decked out in a tight T-shirt and lots of silver jewelry, says he comes to "get pussy." Whatever your reason, remember to bring lots of cash or your daddy's gold card, unbutton those silk shirts, push those titties up real high and be prepared to strike a pose.
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