Many a tip-packed article or list, the kind that show up in magazines around November and December, offers the reader a host of hostable ideas for throwing the best holiday party ever.
The suggestions run from food to lighting to dress, but some of the most important tips surround the all-important playlist of the night. Should you mix in seasonal classics with new fare? Or go strictly with the tried-and-true holiday standards? Or what if the rarer device the playlist actually plays on lends the soiree its particular verve?
The Georgian Hotel, with its Art Deco grandeur, is all about the verve, and so is its seasonal "listening party" tradition, a tradition that proceeds throughout the holidays and straight into New Year's. But rather than hooking up a palm-sized, screen-glow player to a set of speakers, the historic hotel, which marked its big 80th a couple of years back, is making a very old-school trumpet horn phonograph the center of the song-filled action.
If you just guessed that vinyl must be the material of the night, you'd be correct. New tunes and tunes from decades ago lend The Georgian's end-of-the-year listening bashes their glam, as do the seasonally themed cocktails on the pour.
The Santa Monica landmark reveals that "the line-up includes Bing Crosby's 'White Christmas' and Elvis' 'Christmas Album' to more recent Christmas smashes like Kelly Clarkson's 'Wrapped in Red' and Michael Buble's 'Christmas.'"
The time each night is the oh-so-happy-hour-ish stretch of 5 to 8 o'clock, so, yes, you can make your later-in-the-evening commitments.
Or, better yet, make The Georgian's tinsel-toned listening party the only thing you do that night. If you long for a day where festively attired people gathered around the hi-fi -- or trumpet horn -- to vibe on some vinyl, and you long to enjoy such a moment in one of Southern California's most distinctive hotels, then stick a sprig of plastic holly in your hair and drive to the ocean.
But stop just before you reach the waves and head into the Deco-y delight that's stood for over eight decades at 1415 Ocean Avenue.