Mary Lou’s Is Palm Beach’s New Hot Spot For Frivolous Fun

It’s no secret that Palm Beach loves to party – but up until Thursday night, the question was where? Enter Mary Lou’s: a velvet-lined venue from the minds of New York hospitality gurus Alex Melillo, Topher Grubb and Joe Cervasio that pays homage to a time in Palm Beach that you usually can only get a glimpse of in a Slim Aarons photo.

On Thursday Jan. 23rd, the corner of Southern Boulevard in West Palm Beach was wrapped in black cars and black tie ensembles as guests entered Mary Lou’s doors for the first time. The invite-only crowd of influencers, editors and tastemakers were encouraged to dress in “Black Tie Surrealism” for the opening in celebration of the venue’s mantra: thoughtless fun and a sense of ridiculousness, a nod to the Rothschild Ball of 1972 in France.

Upon walking in, I shrugged my faux-fur down to my elbows to wade through the crowd – at only 9:04 p.m., the room was filled with twirls of floor-length silk and legs tangled over zebra printed barstools, arms in the air dancing to a mix of ‘70s classics and house music. After all, the cocktail lounge-meets-entertainment haven was designed for exactly that, with creative partners Sofi Tukker and The Chainsmokers lending their hand to help refine the acoustics and curate the venue’s weekly artist lineup.

Each corner of the space is decorated with eccentric details; antlers, gilded masks, and crystals everywhere shine under the flecks of a massive mirrorball above the bar. Throughout the night, you could see Tucker Halpern sidled up close to the DJ booth, while influencer Silvana Mojica danced amongst model Roos de Kok and Alice + Olivia founder Stacey Bendet. A quick flip through the logo-embossed cocktail menu, and I knew my drink of choice. “One Daddy’s Girl, please” — a vodka elixir made pastel pink with watermelon juice. Across from me, between an olive green alligator lacquered pillar were Cyndi Ramirez of Chillhouse and actress Lorraine Bracco – in hindsight, the club was very much giving Goodfella’s energy.

With a martini glass in one hand and a chicken nugget dressed with caviar in the other, I was transported to one of my favorite cinematic scenes of all time: Holly Golightly’s house party in Breakfast at Tiffany’s. Though larger in square feet than Holly’s New York apartment, the sense of posh revelry was exactly the same – here, with just enough champagne and electronica, it could carry the night, and you, away.