The kind that’s lasting. The kind that’s fleeting. But more specifically, the kind that lives and dies on a polished brass pole, above a wipeable stage, in a derelict bar on the West Side Highway.
In other words, prepare to meet your soul mate.
Welcome to Westway, a gritty, grimy throwback from the Jane Ballroom crew that’s equal parts dive bar, gentleman’s club and shelter for wayward models, open now for private events.
Picture the type of establishment that could only exist on a long stretch of deserted (West Side) highway. A dark and lawless environment where fashion week parties spiral out of control, Olsen twins make it rain and partial nudity is considered part of the dress code.
The décor: very much what you’d expect (and want) from a den of sin. Glittery Lucite walls, oxblood-colored banquettes and the occasional stenciled poster warning you not to feed the strippers.
You see, once upon a time this was a gentleman’s club of ill repute. And that spirit still remains today. Also still remaining today: the original stripper poles, transparent neon-glowing disco stage and red-tinted mood lights that make a 5 look like a 9.
Unlike the old place, from Tuesday to Saturday the professional go-go dancers will stay home and the stage will remain open for a sort of impromptu topless open-mic night.
So that would be the time to debut your risqué Air Supply medley.