Pussycat Lounge Strip Club Breathes New Life Into Tel Aviv Architectural Gem
A Tel Aviv Strip Club Haunts The City's Rundown Atarim Square That Is A Relic Of 1970s Brutalist Architecture.
By MARK MALLARDE
Published January 13, 2013
The reverse side of the building shows its unique support structure and the traffic beneath.
Entrance to the Pussycat Lounge.
Sometimes a noble effort is enough to render a less than perfect experiment a thing of beauty. Take, for example, Sid and Marty Kroft's The Brady Bunch Hour which was a late-1970s abomination of a variety show.
To put it mildly, the Pussycat Lounge is the most architecturally significant strip club in the world.
This is precisely how you might feel entering the new Pussycat Lounge in Tel Aviv. The Pussycat Lounge is the strip club destination in Tel Aviv -- a town not known for strip clubs. The LBT discovered the Pussycat Lounge researching it on the internet but only found it when yours truly was walking home after a night of drinking and looking for a place to urinate. And what a sight to behold it was.
To put it mildly, the Pussycat Lounge is the most architecturally significant strip club in the world. It moved from its prior location into the languishing Collosseum Club nightclub in the Atarim Square. Atarim Square, it should be noted, was designed by architect Yaakov Rechter and stands as one of the highlights of brutalist architecture in all of Israel. It perches on a cliff above the Mediterranean Sea and the northern part of Tel Aviv's long, sandy beach. Winding stairwells bore into the plaza surface and lead one down to passageways and scores of (mostly empty) shops.
Today Atarim Square is fantastically blighted and close to vacant. It looks like the set of a '70s Planet of the Apes sequel. At night, however, the Pussycat Lounge brings the square to life. It glows purple and orange from within the Legion of Doom-looking structure at the south edge of the plaza.
At the front gate, a gruff Russian bouncer stands guard and will demand the equivalent of $30US. Immediately, upon entering one notices the sound system. The Collosseum Club clearly left its gear behind behind because the acoustics are truly remarkable. They fill the space with no distortion. The base might vibrate in your chest but the volume is tasteful and, thankfully, does not hurt your ears. (It might impair quiet conversation with pals or your lady.)
The furniture and decor are substantial and first class. Again, one must wonder whether the Russians (we presume) that own this place inherited the Collosseum Club's stuff.
Where the Pussycat Lounge fell so sadly short on this particular Saturday evening was in the most important facet of a strip club: the girls.
Where the Pussycat Lounge fell sadly short on this particular Saturday evening was in the most important facet of a strip club: the girls. One might expect tall and sexy Russian girls -- there are many in Tel Aviv -- making some good cash. (The Russian women in Tel Aviv are as beautiful as they come. Period.) Instead, on my visit I saw a smattering of small and roundish girls. Heavy make-up, some flab and garish costumes abounded. The few girls that were there were busy climbing on top of patrons seated on chairs and couches.
Media reports on the internet state that the owners of the strip club boasted pre-opening that they would hire only native Israelis. We can see the appeal of this but only if they hire top notch local talent. Are hot Israeli girls above stripping? Perhaps. Unlike in other countries, Israel has no sexy farmer's-daughter types. These are the girls that make strip clubs in the Midwestern states so rewarding.
We hope the the Pussycat Lounge recruits more dancers and more attractive ones. In fairness, perhaps it was an off night. Also, this is something that can be fixed quite easily. In any case, they have the makings of a legendary strip club -- supremely unique setting and locale, impressive interior, great sound system, international city with hot young women.
To the Russian-tough-guy at the door's credit, as I left the club minutes after entering (I was tired and did not see a chickee I liked) he asked me what was wrong (in grunts). "The women not so good," I said. He grabbed my $100 sheckel note from his stash and handed it back to me. That is class one never sees at strip clubs. But, of course, the Pussycat Lounge is not your usual strip club.
