As it turns out, Skybar declined to let any media cameras whatsoever into the event, saying they did not want anything but the standard look of Skybar to be transmitted and that the FSN party was not how they want the club to be perceived.
Now I’m just a hick from Minnesota, but the party thrown by FSN was quite classy. No one was doing cannonballs into the pool, shot-gunning cans of Miller Genuine Draft, or blasting “Sweet Home Alabama” from a transistor radio.
On the contrary, Fox execs and talent mingled with the packed house, the empanadas were somehow warm on a chilly night, and as always in L.A., none of the Rolexes or Armanis were bought off a street corner.
But there was no convincing the host venue, which apparently realized if the event was low brow enough for this reporter to be granted access, it really was not worthy of the desperately-wanting-to-be-considered-hot club. Two words come to mind: Oy. Vey.
Actually, maybe that's the problem: If you're going to do Wal-Mart Chic, go all the way. That includes partygoers shot-gunning cans of Miller Genuine Draft, as too ironic DJ Danny Masterson spins the best of Lynyrd Skynyrd.
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