Seattle Twist

During the 1950s, ’60s and, to a lesser extent, the ’70s, the home bar was as much a part of American culture as baseball, apple-pie, and Chevrolet. In homes ranging from prosperous businessmen and celebrities to swingin’ bachelors and middle-class married men, the home bar was primarily a male aspect of domestic culture, like Brill Cream, Aqua Velva, and a shaving kit, at a time when cocktails and, indeed cocktail parties, were king.

The style, size, and material make-up of home bars in the mid-20th Century were varied, but fairly simple, ranging from contemporary art deco (today often called Atomic or Space Age) to Oceanic, Mariner, tropical, and rustic, bearing such materials as stained and varnished wood, Formica, bamboo, balsa, chrome, padded and/or tufted leather or vinyl, glass bricks and tile, and accessorised with two or more stools. Home bars were available through furniture shops and catalogues, but many were actually do-it-yourself-ers, built by the home (bar) owner himself.

The location of the home bar was an important consideration. Some were simply unaccessorised, stand-alone bars tucked off in the corner somewhere in the house, apartment, or garage, where others were accessorised and were the focal point of a den, basement, recreational room, or drawing room.

Since I was a child I have always been fascinated with the home bar, as both a piece of stylish furniture and of its function. In the 1970s I recall times when friends and I would be at a friend’s house, sitting at his or her father’s bar (most often located in the basement, surrounded by wall-to-wall shag carpet and padded vinyl and leather), listening to music on vinyl or 8-track on the lounge stereo, drinking ginger beer or ale and munching cocktail peanuts, pretending we were adults. (My first cocktail – non- alcoholic, of course – was the Shirley Temple.) This fascination of the home bar has stayed with me up through my adult years, and has lead to a road of re-visitation, renewed appreciation, and a resurrection of a mid-20th Century domestic icon. Not to mention numerous cocktail theme parties and events — all centred round the home bar.

By the time the 1980s reared its head, many of the old cultural standards of the previous decades began to disappear rapidly, and with them went the home bar, both in greatly decreased production and as a piece of furniture. The discos and nightclubs of the 1970s became greater in number in the 1980s, and young adults and married couples of the time went out more often in their spare time, rather than hosting at home the sophisticated cocktail parties their parents and grandparents threw a decade or more earlier. And the cocktail itself began to decline in popularity (though of course not obscurity) — the populace more enamoured with beer and wine or straight shots of booze.

Homemade bars often remained in any particular house in which they were constructed, but went largely unused. Manufactured home bars were more or less sold off or taken to the dump. In either case, and wherever it did exist, the home bar began collecting dust; and usually only via a trip to a second-hand or vintage shop, or watching a movie or TV show filmed in previous decades, would one see the stylish shape and ingenuity of this domestic icon of yesteryear located in a domestic setting.

But as any young adult — or adult young at heart – with a sense of style knows, the best time to be into something ‘Retro’ is when it isn’t popular; for it is at this time that the ‘Retro’ articles in question aren’t sought after, are considered old junk, and are, consequently, easier to find and less expensive to pay for. If the 1980s was good for anything, it was good for collectors of mid-20th Century items of all kinds – the home bar being no exception. In fact, it was the best time for acquiring such.

Contemporary home bars were still manufactured in limited quantities and design in the 1980s, but their styles and shapes were largely prosaic, and their cost — considering their lack of popularity or uncouthness — unjustified. But uniquely fashioned home bars could be found just as uniquely in second-hand and vintage shops: and they were more stylish, far less expensive, and rarely would one come across a duplicate design. Plus they were something special: a domestic icon of past years: a time capsule in vintage style and social significance. But, as previously mentioned, there were also the home-made home bars that remained intact, never having left their original location — home bars that became a novelty and social institution for those buyers and renters who moved in after the house was sold.

By the time the 1990s came about, mid-20th Century Retro became more popular, as did vintage and second-hand stores. Items were still reasonably affordable, and the competition not strongly competitive. Social scenes of both young and old developed around the appreciation for these past articles and fashion, collectors became more prevalent, and having a home bar — especially a vintage one – was an object of great attraction. But it wasn’t the same ol’ been-there, done-that Retro appreciation of the youthful 1950s Rock ‘N’ Roll and 1960s Mod fashion and culture, repeated several times in the 1970s and 1980s. This growing appreciation was for the more adult-oriented culture of the 1950s and ’60s, and it centred round home bars, dressing up in vintage suits and dresses, sipping cocktails, and listening to cocktail music. It was an appreciation — nostalgic or otherwise — for one’s seemingly swingin’ parent’s and/or grandparent’s generation: their social lifestyles during un-politically correct times. But it was also the general culture and idealism of these past times – seen in movies, television shows, commercials, magazine adverts, etc. This appreciation, though initially only in local pockets, would unexpectedly blossom and bloom in popularity, coming into the public eye in the mid-1990s. And though not quite as it had been, the home bar had returned: and with it the return of Cocktail Culture.

In retrospect it’s difficult to determine what brought back the home bar or the renewed appreciation of the cocktail (and, more importantly, a cocktail made accurately). Perhaps it was that vintage and second-hand shops became more abundant and, hence, so did the appearance of vintage home bars up for sale. Perhaps it was because of the boredom those in their 30s and 40s — those who had gone through all the pop culture shifts of the 1970s & ’80s – had with the present-day lack of sophisticated fashion and culture in society and society’s nightlife. (After all, one can only be a rebellious, angry young man or woman for so long, with one’s head in the clouds, downing lagers, straight shots, and cheap wine in pubs, live music venues and dance clubs, adoring pop stars, pretending to be outrageous and significant, and trying to score.) Perhaps it had something to do with discovering and appreciating the music on some of those old easy listening records with enticing covers that our cocktail-sipping forefathers and mothers used to listen to – the ones seen in dusty old record bins in second-hand shops. Or perhaps it was simply a romanticised escapism to a time when culture and, indeed, nightlife appeared more glamourous. Maybe it was all of the above. Whatever the reasons, the resurgence happened, and the scattered little pockets of people in their 30s and 40s, who loved all the adult-oriented culture of the mid-20th Century, perhaps as a guilty pleasure, found that they weren’t alone in their seemingly uncool and [insert disdainful word like 'corny', 'kitschy', or 'cheesy'] appreciation and taste — that there were other like-minded people into the same things, from the West and East Coast of America and Canada to England and Germany.

For the most part, the core of this unclassifiable appreciation was in the cocktail itself and the image one had of the cocktail culture of the 1950s, ’60s, and early ’70s – an image which one could conjure up via decade-relevant magazines, TV shows, movies, album covers and music; photos and postcards of cocktail lounges; clothing and architectural styles; and perhaps even nostalgic memories of one’s swingin’ parents and/or grandparents and the parties they threw; or early family dining experiences in exotic restaurant/lounge-separated venues like Trader Vic’s.

Needless to say (but I’ll say it anyway), the un-updated mid-20th Century atmosphere of existing tiki bars, old dive bars, hotel and piano bars, and Chinese restaurant lounges were becoming frequent hangouts for the hep ‘cocktail’ crowd in the early 1990s. Many of this crowd would dress up in vintage suits and cocktail dresses, smoke cigarettes and drink cocktails, and punch up easy listening and pop-jazz music (if available) on jukeboxes – much to the amusement of the old-timers and the contempt of the developing grunge, Hip-Hop, and alternative crowd. ‘Lounge’ became a frequent catchword to describe atmosphere, clothing, and music. Semi-jazz-based groups formed, based on Rat Pack sensibilities, surf instrumentals, mid-20th Century European soundtrack music, Exotica-stylings, and Latin rhythms.

In Providence, then later Boston, forerunners of the ‘Lounge’ neo-music scene, Combustible Edison, coined the term Cocktail Nation — a term often used amongst those ‘in the know’, until two friends and I in Seattle soon later articulated it more accurately to the public as Cocktail Culture – I through my weekly public events and my friends through their ‘zine and private cocktail parties.

Russ Scheidelman’s non-profit Seattle-based ‘zine Organ & Bongos — A Periodical Guide To Today’s Cocktail Culture made the first of many seasonal appearances — each issue coinciding with a cocktail theme party at his home bar, The Blue Flamingo Lounge. My long-running weekly theme night, Shaken, Not Stirred — Cocktail Culture, would jump from one Seattle venue to another, garnering a larger and larger crowd of fans and curiosity seekers, until settling for two years at The Backdoor Ultra Lounge in Seattle’s Pioneer Square.

In pockets of the U.S. and Canada, England and Germany, cocktail ‘zines, artwork, and Lounge events began popping up, as did more live bands. Professional CD compilations and re-issues of ‘Lounge’ (aka ‘Cocktail’) music and artists from the 1950s, ’60s, and early ’70s from RCA, DCC, Capitol, Sequel, Deram, and Scamp, among others, enhanced and capitalised on the growing craze – much of the music appearing for the first time ever on CD. Vintage cocktail graphics began to appear everywhere (even if non-cocktail-related), and original ‘Retro’ artists like Shag (nowadays often copied) began to snowball in popularity. Folks began educating themselves on different cocktails, the history of those cocktails, and how to make them properly. And the image of the standard cocktail glass was the Holy Grail, the social beacon behind it all.

But whatever the reason or influence, be it the increasing interest in the Lounge craze or not, it was at this time that I noticed people were acquiring or aspiring to acquire their own home bars; and others who had ‘inherited’ one, announcing and showing pride in the fact that they had moved into a house that already had a home bar built into it and ‘You should come over for a cocktail some night and see my bar’. Still others who had purchased their home bars back in the 1980s, and who were taken with the new appreciation and interest.

So taken and intrigued by all this was I, and wanting to see and sample as many of these home bars in person as I could, I began writing an on-going article called ‘Home Bar Review’, first for my own ‘zine, Cocktail Review, and then for Scheidelman’s Organ & Bongos. The article was short-lived, but I nevertheless got to see, sample, and write about a few really interesting local home bars — all of different designs and styles and stories to go with them.

To put it simply, the home bar was and is the way to create and own one’s own atmosphere and vision, and to present one’s taste and style, without the limitations and distractions of the public drinking venue. It also creates an opportunity to be more social with people without having to go out to a public venue, which can be far more satisfying and far less expensive.

The Lounge craze of the mid-1990s — as fun and exciting as it was — was doomed not to last very long. Largely the reason for this was that the few people who put on events — weekly, monthly, or otherwise – simply became burned out and stopped putting them on. (I plead guilty to that myself.) Another significant reason is that the scene, atmosphere, and various genres of music that made up the musical backdrop of Lounge, wasn’t easily interpreted and classified by the mainstream public. After all, it was considered a fad like any other. But, although it may have been undeliberately reactionary, Lounge wasn’t about dancing (though dancing was a small aspect), rebellion, drugs, and youthful angst — fads the mainstream public are used to and, although they may not like, at least understand and come to expect. Lounge was about discovery and implementation of a bygone Golden Age of adult social culture, music, and mid-20th Century style, into the daily lives and nightlife of younger generations — generations who weren’t old enough at the time to partake in such social culture. And the majority of these people were in ages of 30s and 40s, not teens and 20s. And though there was idealism involved, I wouldn’t say it was escapism. It was what it was.

And so the ‘scene’ faded. And with it the public curiosity behind it. But the music and reissues lived on (without the trendy cocktail packaging and spend-y marketing), as did the private parties and the hardcore fans; and, of course, the continued interest and appearance of home bars.

With the new millennium came a component and offspring of the Lounge craze: Tiki. The Tiki scene was narrower of scope than the Lounge scene and, hence, more easily interpreted by folks fascinated by it and new to it (though, like Lounge, misinterpreted largely by the general public). The hardcore movers and shakers of the Tiki world during the Lounge craze became revered. And by the mid-2000s the Tiki community had grown into a worldwide ’scene’, continuously obtaining fresh members with related books, magazines and Tiki art galore; Exotica and Hawaiian music shares and reissues; websites, bands, and HUGE events. And with the Tiki craze came the home bar’s biggest resurgence.

Without a doubt exotic cocktails and an idealised Polynesian bar atmosphere (largely inspired by the designs of the Trader Vic’s chain) was a big draw for people new to Tiki. And though the continuing disappearance of classic Polynesian Restaurant lounges was a factor, creating one’s own Tiki lounge at home was a way of bringing this faux-Polynesian atmosphere directly into one’s domestic life (if one can’t get to the Tropics, bring the Tropics to you! which indeed is escapism, but well worth the trouble), as well as was a way of showing one’s devotion to the ’scene’. And building a home-made Tiki bar or seeking one out was a fairly simple task, as the references to what constitutes a proper Tiki bar are plentiful, the materials with which to make one fairly inexpensive and easy to obtain, and manufacturers of Tiki bars not as uncommon as one may think.

By the mid-2000s home Tiki bars of all shapes, sizes, and elaborations began to surface and resurface. And with them, so did the premiere of the organised Home Bar Tour.

Argued to have initiated in California, the Home Bar Tour was and still is largely centred round home bars done in mid-20th Century Tiki/Polynesian-style (with classic Space Age designs coming in a favourable second), featuring home bars located in backyard huts, cabanas, and garages to living rooms, dens, and basements. Until recently, the most significant organised tour of home bars was featured on the annual Tiki event in Portland, OR, referred to in the past as the NW Tiki Crawl and currently, Tiki Kon. On the third day of the event ticket holders would meet at a designated place to board a charter that would take them round to a pre-selected group of 4 or 5 stunning home bars/lounges, decorated in all manner of Tiki and Tiki-related style, with pupus and tropical libations served at each stop. In the summer of 2005, I had the pleasure of being aboard the home bar charter on the third day of the NW Tiki Crawl.
Now, while the second day’s festivities of the NW Tiki Crawl took place in historically and aesthetically relevant public venues appropriate to the event’s theme and was entertaining enough, it was the third day of the event — the Home Bar Tour – that really impressed me. In fact, it was magical.

So impressed was I with what the organisers and home bar owners had put together, that I decided to begin a Home Bar Tour here in Seattle the following year called The Seattle Area Home Bar Tour. And although tropical/Tiki bar themes were prevalent, I didn’t want the Tour to feature only Tiki bars, but rather any inspired thematic bar with a retrospective flair, exotic or Space Age, tropical or otherwise. The Seattle Area Home Bar Tour is now in its fourth year.

In closing, through the last 15 years I’ve seen some extraordinary home bars and lounges (and some not so), most far more inspired and aesthetically-interesting than any local public bar I could go into. More than simply an area to serve drinks, the home bar is a stylish piece of furniture, and a decorated lounge round it an extension of atmospheric decor. Whatever the taste, whatever the style, inspired or uninspired, the resurrection of the home bar and lounge is a significant link to a civilised and social cultural past — one that has come back to stay.

Interested in attending this year’s Seattle Area Home Bar Tour (August 21st & 22nd)? Have you a striking thematic home bar and lounge — Atomic or Space Age, Exotic (Asian, Polynesian, Caribbean, African, etc.), Polyester Shag, etc. — you would like to propose for consideration as a stop on this year’s or subsequent SAHB Tours? Please contact me, Terence, at balihai66@gmail.com.