Playboy Mansion - a dream L.A. junket comes true

I get a lot of invitations to attend openings of new hotels or resorts, and if the location sounds intriguing, I go. If not, I’ll politely demure or just hit the delete button when the e-mail invitation flashes on my screen.

But an invitation came in the mail recently with the two words that no red-blooded American male could ignore: Playboy Mansion. Note to public relations executives: This is how to generate publicity for your clients — appeal to a reporter’s most base cravings.

The invitation, in a black envelope with gold lettering, asked me to attend a party at the Playboy Mansion to celebrate the 40^th anniversary of the Byblos Hotel in Saint Tropez. In truth, the 40^th anniversary of any hotel would never merit a line in the paper, but how often does a non-celebrity schlub like me get the green light to check out Hugh Hefner’s castle of cleavage?

Thursday night I rode a shuttle van from a parking lot in Century City into Hefner’s fortress. The gig is held under a massive white tent in an area known as the grotto, a poolside patio area big enough to hold a few hundred people.

Two steps into the tent and I come face to face with two petite Playboy bunnies, complete with perky rabbit ears and fluffy white cottontails. They smile, like they are really glad to be there, but they must be freezing their cottontails off in this frigid, rainy weather.

Hors d’oeuvres-wielding servers circle the room. Disco lights flash funky designs on the tent’s walls and ceiling. A DJ console looms over a dance floor but no one’s dancing.

A couple of skinny, overly moussed, twentysomething Romeos are talking up the bunnies. Everyone else is nursing drinks, picking at hors d’oeuvres and keeping an eye out for celebrities while trying not to look like they are looking for celebs.

Letdown No 1.: No tours of the mansion, we are told.

Hef shows up with three petite blonds on his arms. He looks smaller and older than I imagined. They all do. I guess the camera adds 10 pounds and 15 years.

He and his posse slip into a VIP tent that I’m forbidden from entering. (Letdown No 2.) But I can gawk. Later, I see Hef and his girls gabbing it up in the VIP tent with Simon Cowell, Randy Jackson and Ryan Seacrest of “American Idol” fame. (These guys must have flown a helicopter straight from the filming of the show to the mansion. But who can blame them?)

I find a portal in the back of the tent that looks like the entrance to Batman’s bat cave. It leads to two enclosed hot tubs. A couple is relaxing on the water’s edge, fully clothed. (Letdown No. 3.)

It’s a work night, so I cut out early. (Letdown No. 4: no free copy of Playboy.)

Congratulations, Byblos on your 40^th anniversary. With PR gimmicks like this, you are sure to do well for at least 40 more years.

— Hugo Martin, Los Angeles Times Staff Writer

[Photo: Steve Granitz]

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This entry was posted on Saturday, February 23, 2008 at 1:43 am by Hugo Martin and is filed under Celebrity, Los Angeles. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a comment, or trackback from your own site.