Nam stood in her master bedroom, staring at a rack of clothes she had in her mirrored closet. Piece by piece, she took out the clothes, stared at it, placed it against her body, and then mercilessly threw it on her California king bed. Her clothes were nice, but for her, they weren’t nice enough. She called up Archie, her best friend, and they headed out to Broadway Plaza in Downtown Walnut Creek to do some shopping.
It was a perfect day to be out. The sun was out, shining brightly, with the slightest of a breeze drifting by, cooling the avid shoppers. With no time to spare, both girls ran into Bebe, without a doubt in their minds that this was going to be the place where they would find something to wear later on that night. The two were headed to the hottest club to hit the Bay, South Beach at Club Cocomos.
Archie quickly picked out a white mini-dress with a deep v-neck plunge that clung to her curvaceous body, while Nam was having trouble finding an outfit. As Archie stood in line to pay, Nam eyed some black booty shorts and went after them quickly. She lifted them from the rack, looked at Archie and they both nodded their heads in unison that she had found a winner.
“This is the one!” exclaimed Nam Tran, 26, of Concord. “The way I dress is a reflection of how confident I feel. I like going for the sexy but not trashy look.”
After all was said and done, Nam fit perfectly into the booty shorts, and bought a black silk halter top to go with them.
Both girls ran home and started getting ready. It was Friday night, and they were anticipating the Bay Area’s number one monthly hip-hop party—South Beach at Club Cocomos. They both knew that they had to get there early, but Nam and Archie took their precious time to ensure they arrive “fashionably late”-- And they did just that. By 10 p.m. the line to get into the club was already three blocks down from the main entrance, and it was not moving. Meanwhile, Nam had just picked up Archie in her Mercedes SL 500 in Concord. Archie walked to the car with a confident swagger. She knew she looked good.
“Took your ass long enough,” says Arcelia Diaz, while opening the door to the car, “Oh yeah, and put the top down, I don’t want to mess up my hair.”
You can find me in the club
Thirty minutes later, Nam and Archie are pulling up to the club when they noticed the winding line. There were over 200 people, and they refused to join the pack. Archie pulled out her Treo and called up her friend Mar, one of the main promoters of South Beach.
“Hey Mar, it’s Archie—we just walked up to the front of the club, will you let us in?” A few minutes later Mar walked out, and told the security guards to let them in. With the blink of an eye, they were already in the club. No hassle, no line, no nothing. Outside, people bickered in low voices, wondering why they had to wait in line for an hour, and these girls waited just a few minutes.
“God, I love Cocomos,” said Tran, while sitting in a V.I.P booth right next to the dance floor. “I get special treatment here, they roll out the red carpet for us.”
Not everyone is as fortunate to have special treatment like this, but even still, anyone who’s anyone knows not to miss out on this club.
“Man, I slipped the bouncer a fifty-dollar bill just to get to the front of the line,” said Hector Hugo of Hayward, “It’s not even about the money—it’s about guaranteeing the chance to be let in.”
But things have not always been this great, and Juan Bueno, co-creator of South Beach remembers it being a roller coaster ride only two years ago. Back then, he wasn’t sure whether they would have a turn out or not. Now, he has nothing to worry about.
“Since our one-year anniversary party, we have consistently packed the club to its max,” Bueno said proudly.
And packing the club means leaving people out in the cold. On most good nights, the bouncers stop letting people in when they reach maximum capacity. Carlos Alarcon, an avid clubber, remembers when he would drive all the way to San Francisco from Hayward—and not get in.
“There ain’t no party like South Beach,” he said. “I was looking forward to getting dummy in the club.”
But how did this phenomenon emerge?
The owner of Club Cocomos, who goes by the name of Rouge, approached Bueno and offered him a shot at promoting the first Hip-hop/Salsa party in the venue, and Bueno snatched the offer instantaneously.
Since the Bay Area was lacking a hip- hop based party with a Latin influence, it only made sense to go for it. Bueno, who has been a promoter for over six years now, knew he had to make this party the best in the Bay. He decided on naming it ‘South Beach’ because of the venue décor. The club’s walls are covered with a mural of tropical fishes swimming in an ocean. There are palm trees everywhere, and the indoor/outdoor set-up is a big hit with the smokers.
“That’s why I love coming here, because I can walk outside and take a smoke break whenever I want,” said Jonathan Diaz, a native of Southern California. “The clubs out here are different, the people are not as stuck up as those down in Los Angeles.”
I’m in the building and I’m feeling myself
And those down in Los Angeles are also missing out on something else—The Hyphy Movement, a style of music and dance that is associated with the Bay Area’s own hip-hop culture. This lifestyle has brought out a side many did not even know they had. All over the dance floor, there are people doing the thizz face—which is characterized by the lyric “look on your face like you smelled some piss,” created by the one and only hip hop artist Andre “Mac Dre” Hicks, and everyone else in the club is going “stupid, dumb, and hyphy.” The style of music is what the Bay was lacking. When you walk into the club, there is an energetic release from the crowd. They go ‘stupid’ without necessarily looking stupid. This is the Bay, and it makes people proud.
“It [The Hyphy Movement] brought recognition to us, it gives us something of our own,” said Tran.
The music phenomenon has given the Bay Area culture something to represent, as it essentially puts the Bay Area back on the map. And don’t think it is going away anytime soon. Patrons of the club know a part of the success is due to veteran disc jockey himself, D.J. Mind Motion. He’s been spinning the one’s and two’s for over 15 years and is currently with Bay Area radio station, 106.1 KMEL.
“Mind Motion has a huge following,” says Mario Cuellar, promoter of South Beach, “He knows how to get a crowd moving and how to keep them on the dance floor.” Mind Motion plays a variety of music, but mostly sticks to what is hot at the moment. D.J. Mind Motion throws in some old school that gets the crowd reminiscing about ‘back in the day,’ but knows what drives the crowd nuts—anything ‘Bay.’
Salsa anyone?
But now, Mind Motion has competition in his own backyard. A few hundred feet away from his turn tables are two D.J.’s, I-Cue and Lando, who spin in the Salsa Room. Having two different rooms is usually a hit or miss, because one will always lack in atmosphere in comparison to the other, but not in South Beach. Here you have the best of both worlds. One minute you can be “feeling yourself,” nodding your head to the rhythmic beats of a hip- hop song, and the next, dancing to a fast-paced, Latin and African infused song. The atmosphere is so vibrant in both rooms, that people want to be in both.
“For some strange reason the D.J.’s in both rooms don’t miss a beat, it’s like they’re working together,” says Cuellar, one of the premier promoters, “It’s off the hook.”
Although the salsa room is much smaller, it remains packed with a fluctuating number of people going to and from the other room. People spin, twirl, and do as many salsa moves as they can. In addition, the Salsa Room has its own bar as well, so they [the people] don’t have to leave the room for another drink.
- I.P.
Back in the V.I.P. lounge, Nam and Archie sit comfortably in the leather couch watching the clubbers partying the night away. Their table is full of empty plastic cups, an empty bottle of Grey Goose and two empty bottles of Hennessy. The girls were having a great time, and were sad to see the night come to an end. Once the lights turned on, South Beach was officially over.
The next day, Archie was still living the post-party high, “I had the best time ever! Well, at least from what I remember.”
