Johnny Zander

LA Models Austin: The Epitome Of the LA ideal PS Austin is NOT The Saint

Back in NY TI barely pays attention to the comings and the goings of male models. Betty Sze at the day job has that beat covered, but Thursday night, on the way back from the big Motorola extravanganza, I heard the most telling tale of the strange variations you get on male models. My chaperone for the night (for I am not allowed to roam LA unsupervised) is also an eagle-eyed young model scout specializing in the male market. For obvious reasons, there is a constant influx of beautiful kids into this city . He described the story of driving down this very strip of Sunset when he spotted this face on a young man that was straight out of a Pre-Raphaelite canvas. Car lurches to a stop. He goes up to the Pre-Raphaelite saint stuck in the form of a LA rocker/panhandler. The radiant beauty is huddled on the sidewalk with another friend, so unwashed, their clothes almost seem to slow-drip an oily black substance and you can almost see the flies spinning around their heads like a halo of sorts. They have a small dog. Its ribs are showing.
"Hello," says the scout. "I think you really should model.
" Do you have a buck so my dog could get some food," said The Saint.
"You think HE can be a model?" demands the Saint's grimy companion.
"Yes I do," says the scout. "I don't have a dollar on me right now but funny enough I'm on my way to the pet store so if you stay here I can bring back some food for your dog."

The Inspiration For The Well Titled "Green Door" club in LA

Well that was a lesson in the uselessness of preconceived notions. Last night at Green Door that is. The buzz had washed up on the shores of NY in broken bits and pieces..."Johnny Zander's Friday night...jammed w celebs"... "the front room draws upon images of Parisian coffee shops" "Heidi Klum's Halloween party".When that certain LA Overlord (one of those stealth forces who quietly controls a lot of wires behind the scene) said "C'mon on down", I did just that. After the programming I got from last season's hot spot, Hyde, I expected that behind the little green door would be the typical narrow little cave of a room with sagging thrift store furniture hiding its tawdriness in the dim night club light. Scattered around the room would be the full species of 'movie industry people"... and the hanger-ons who service them. Here is where the preconceived notions flew out the door. The Green Door is not a cave. Its a damn warehouse, redone in a mish-mosh of vintage styles that completely contradicts the scale of the place. The strangeness of that is perverse. A cosy and traditional design vocabulary installed in a massive and rambling space. Very odd. Velvet everywhere.. green velvet curtains, velvet couches, brocades, striped tenting "antiqued" paint treatments on the wall. Think The Gramercy's Rose Bar meets suburban kitsch.