You can dance if you want to... the immortal words of either Lord Byron or Men Without Hats—we can never
remember which.
Also: the basic philosophy of this place.
Introducing Cappello, a bi-level enclave of people-watching and bottle service with a Rat Pack tinge, now open in the Village.
It’s really a tale of two floors here. Classic lounge setting downstairs—the tufted-leather bar, the... tufted-velvet walls and the kind of oversized banquettes that invite a good arm-stretching. Your time here is best spent taking in some Tin Pan Alley, a plate of soppressata and a few martinis whilst flexing your best conversational muscles.
Upstairs is a different story. Blacked out. Louder. Less clothed. The music is electro-swing (which is a music now), occasionally accompanied by a floating violinist and a few of your more comely professional swing dancers. If you’re thinking the world’s just not yet ready for your moves, stake out one of the wraparound banquettes, order up a bottle and do the nod.
You’ve always had an oddly hypnotic nod.
Also: the basic philosophy of this place.
Introducing Cappello, a bi-level enclave of people-watching and bottle service with a Rat Pack tinge, now open in the Village.
It’s really a tale of two floors here. Classic lounge setting downstairs—the tufted-leather bar, the... tufted-velvet walls and the kind of oversized banquettes that invite a good arm-stretching. Your time here is best spent taking in some Tin Pan Alley, a plate of soppressata and a few martinis whilst flexing your best conversational muscles.
Upstairs is a different story. Blacked out. Louder. Less clothed. The music is electro-swing (which is a music now), occasionally accompanied by a floating violinist and a few of your more comely professional swing dancers. If you’re thinking the world’s just not yet ready for your moves, stake out one of the wraparound banquettes, order up a bottle and do the nod.
You’ve always had an oddly hypnotic nod.
