nserted beneath a manic ad agency, West is a subterranean bunker discretely marked by enigmatic glowing portals. To access the lounge, you go past the Cossette Building, where a 510 King West ought to be (there is no 510 King West), down the back alley (directly across from Rodney's) and, granting permission from The Man, go down the flight of stairs to the space called West.


The layout is divided into three free-flowing but distinct zones - main lounge, VIP setting and a banquette area. Fabulous people maneuver throughout a space wrapped in slick, pseudo marbled walls (Evolve Architectural Coatings), and glass panes coated with a translucent optical film that becomes transparent when viewed at an angle. It all creates a teasing sense of mystery and discovery, approximating the hazy effects of a sweet lounge setting.

Owner Marc Kyriacou, a former club designer (Tonic, Inside) with a flair for drama, designed West to be an urban bar that feels like it could belong anywhere in the world. West is indeed sophisticated and cosmopolitan, but its pulsing beat is pure South Beach. Kyriacou gutted the space, a basement in the building that houses Cossette in the Red-hot King West area, but he preserved the original Frank Lloyd Wrightish, rock-layered wall partitions that have become West's unique signature.

Upshot: Dress up, and be nice to the clipboard-carrying judges outside or you don't stand a chance. - D.E.