So... there’s a nightspot in Chelsea that’s built into a large storage unit.
...
Oh, you want to hear more?
It’s called Backbar, and it’s a hidden lounge from the Willow Road and Toro guys, now open on the outskirts of Chelsea.
Think of this as the new old Meatpacking. Industrial. Sort of empty. Not a place you’d go in daylight. On the flirting edge of the West Side Highway. Which means precisely nothing when you’re actually in there, relaxing on a horseshoe banquette with a fresh whiskey-ginger in hand.
It’s tough to find, but we’ll get you there. Once you see Del Posto, just keep walking west. At the end of the building/block, you’ll see two nondescript steel doors with a small cement arch over them. Bingo.
Inside, you’ll find a concrete-slab wall with candles embedded in it and a bull’s head on it and a black leather sofa in front of it. Across the way: a marble bar and a DJ booth (sort of a create-your-own-dance-floor situation here). But you and a few parched compatriots will want to carve out a space in the tree-adorned nook that looks like the courtyard of a Mediterranean villa.
Duh.
...
Oh, you want to hear more?
It’s called Backbar, and it’s a hidden lounge from the Willow Road and Toro guys, now open on the outskirts of Chelsea.
Think of this as the new old Meatpacking. Industrial. Sort of empty. Not a place you’d go in daylight. On the flirting edge of the West Side Highway. Which means precisely nothing when you’re actually in there, relaxing on a horseshoe banquette with a fresh whiskey-ginger in hand.
It’s tough to find, but we’ll get you there. Once you see Del Posto, just keep walking west. At the end of the building/block, you’ll see two nondescript steel doors with a small cement arch over them. Bingo.
Inside, you’ll find a concrete-slab wall with candles embedded in it and a bull’s head on it and a black leather sofa in front of it. Across the way: a marble bar and a DJ booth (sort of a create-your-own-dance-floor situation here). But you and a few parched compatriots will want to carve out a space in the tree-adorned nook that looks like the courtyard of a Mediterranean villa.
Duh.
