Friday, June 01, 2012

The Glamorous Life of a Hollywood Writer

I feel like a spend a lot of time on this blog writing about how a) anxious and b) divided I am as a writer.  Although, it's possible a lot of those posts are just in my head....

I thought for a change of pace I'd tell you about something cool I've gotten to see because of my current writing gig.  Every two to three weeks, my producer and I try to meet in person for notes. 

Because it is located geographically between us, we sometimes meet at a place called Soho House. If you haven't heard of it, don't feel bad, I hadn't either before I went. Now I do, because my producer told me a few things, and also--I looked it up on Wikipedia, so I can share a few facts: Soho House is a private club for people who work in the arts and media.  The first one was founded in 1995 in London by a British entrepreneur named Nick Jones.  He opened another in New York in 2003. The West Hollywood club followed just a couple years ago in 2010.

When I get to the Soho House,  I park under the building with the valets and go into a little basement lobby, where I give my name and the name of my producer (who is a member, whereas I am not.) They find my name in a big guest book, and point me to the elevator. To me, the elevator is part of the experience.  It's dimly lit, the walls are padded/upholstered with a quilt-y leather, and there are thick velvety curtains covering the rear doors, all of this mutes any sounds--and there's no muzak, so if you're alone, it's kind of like a ride in a velvety, quilty womb, after which one is reborn into the light of this foyer on the penthouse level.

It's pretty, right?
I walk up the staircase to a large room that is like a big coffee shop with a bar, but unlike at a coffee shop or bar, you don't feel guilty for not ordering or staying at a table too long. 

I think there is a rule about not taking pictures, because they want to protect the privacy of club members, who might be famous people.  (I haven't noticed any famous people yet, but that means little, because I'm terrible at recognizing famous people.) Fortunately I can show you these people-less pictures from the website, which conveniently picture the very table we sit at. 

See the red chair facing the camera?  That's the chair I always sit in.
Here is is again--

Notice the books on the shelves set into the bar behind the chairs.   There are books arranged faux- haphazardly almost everywhere, which makes me happy.  Maybe because growing up, my dad had a little art studio in the attic, and it had seventies lamps and bright early-eighties jewel-toned furniture and shelves of old books, so the combination of eclectic furnishings, top floor and old books is a winning one for me.

I've only visited the rest of the club once--a quick tour, but since we've started, you can have a tour too: 
This is the walkway that goes around the place--lots of floor to ceiling views.  The outer layer of glass is also to keep the noise from parties from bothering the neighbors.  They are never having parties at ten in the morning. 

This is Paul's favorite room.  Aa dining area that has a retractable roof.

And this is the screening room.  Each chair has it's own ottoman, and each ottoman opens up and has a cashmere blanket inside, so you can snuggle up and watch the movie. Pretty awesome.

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