Where can you go to frolic in a dream forest? Stomp on Moliere's grave? Or search for your reflection in gold leaf applied by the same gold leafers that maintain the dome of Napoleon's tomb? Pee into a black-on-black toilet? Members-only whores rejoice; now exists a place so fucking weird, your non-member friends really won't be able to imagine how awesomely amazing your life is. David Lynch has opened a real world Club Silencio (from Mullholland Drive) in Paris on Tuesday night, and in true VIP form, he didn't come to the opening.
However, Lynch meticulously designed the whole concept of the club, from the saltiness of the bar nuts to the 1950s-style chairs that, when sat upon, will "induce and sustain a specific state of alertness and openness to the unknown." Add a few cocktails to that, and we expect things to get weird. Shockingly, there was little in the way of extraordinary on the club's first night. Sources say the strangest guest was a Japanese cowboy disguised as a fashion designer.
But where was Lynch this eve if not as his club's opening? Probably nude=-meditating with his signature pompadour, chain-smoking American Spirits, and contemplating what to eat for breakfast.