Nightlife Guru Richie Notar On the Power of Fun

Decadence: If there is one person who understand its elusive nature – and the intrinsic human desire for it, particularly in times of pandemic emotional and social unrest – it’s Richie Notar. The New York native was barely 17-years-old when he began working as a busboy at an up-and-coming nightclub called Studio 54. Needless to say, history was made, of which Notar was an integral part. Next up: a foray into the hotel business, with former Studio 54 partners Steve Rubell and Ian Schrager, via the Morgans Hotel. 

Notar, a fixture in Long Island's scenic Sag Harbor also briefly opened the fine dining restaurants Harlow East and it's midtown counterpart Harlow. But by 1994, he was a managing partner at Nobu, which went on to become one of the most prolific global restaurant empires in the world. Dubbed a “student of amusement” by The New York Times, Notar says he likes to spoil people, and he means it. Now as the Creative Director of the Playboy Club New York, he intends to do just that – and then some. We caught up with the unpretentious hospitality impresario to talk about the beauty of not trying too hard, why he’ll never chase a party and – why not? – Paris Hilton. 

You’re from Queens, right? 
Jamaica, Queens. Funnily enough, Donald Trump and I grew up in the same neighborhood, and I was introduced to him by someone and I said, “Let me see your hands.” Donald goes, “What?” I said, “Let me see your hands!” They were so soft. I said, “You should have mowed your father’s lawn.” No calluses! You’ve got to have a little life on your hands, you know what I mean? If there ain’t no grit on your hands, you’ve got no grit in your life. 

You’ve had quite a trajectory. 
Quite a ride so far. There’s a Woody Allen movie called Zelig, and in one moment he’s a catcher for the Yankees. The next moment, he’s an astronaut. I kind of feel like my life has been like Zelig’s. Like, how was I involved in what would arguably become one of the greatest clubs of all time? And then into the hotel business with the Morgans, which was arguably one of the first boutique hotels. Then I wanted to be a chef. 

Had you dreamed of being a chef when you were a little kid? 
No, no. I didn’t know. I wasn’t one of those guys who sat in a room and said, “Okay, by this time, I have to do this.” Not goal-oriented. I kind of just fall into stuff. Working at those hotels, I got a little burned out. I’d always liked to go to Montauk before it was cool, so I took my red truck and my Jack Russell and my girlfriend at the time and moved out to Montauk for what I thought would be for two months and wound up being two years. I’m really bad with dates, but this was around ’90. Because in ’93, I was asked to come to New York because there was a Japanese chef gaining some notoriety. Robert De Niro was really behind him. I said okay. Friends made fun of me because I knew nothing about Japanese food. I said, “I’ll move back for this.” I did my research, we dug in and ultimately put up one of the greatest brands of all time. 

You had no way of knowing it would become Nobu. As in, the Nobu. 
If you think about that, it’s like if you say, “Hey, you want to be an actor? Why?” “I want to win the Academy Award.” If you said you want to be an actress and I ask you why and you say, “I just love the stage and my freedom and I can be someone,” you’re more likely to win the accolades than the guy who’s going for it right away. 

You have to have a perverse love for every step of the journey. I feel like it’s almost an addiction at a certain point, when you could stop and say, “I’m good,” but then look, there’s another project.
You really have to have your fill of it before you go, “You know what? I’m done with this.” Among the late-night guys, Johnny Carson probably did it best. Bowed out and that was it. But that was way before podcasts and these alternative cable avenues. It kind of dilutes people with real talent. I think the world’s a bit upside-down. New York is a little bit homogenized. Everyone’s trying to be the next billionaire and what’s perfect? Everything is perfect. Everyone’s trying to be so perfect. Let’s all meditate. Let’s have green juices. Let’s read Getting Things Done. And that’s all well and good ‘cause I’ve done that as well. At some point, you’ve got to stop for a second and just have a little fun again. So if you can let people have a fantasy for two or three hours, make them feel like they’ve stepped into another time, land, whatever it is, then mission complete.

I think it’s a noble goal. I think it’s a beautiful thing. It’s also about rolling with whatever’s happening during the time.
Things go in waves. It always happens. All right, 54, for example. New York was not good. It was seedy, thugs and crime were rampant, bad mayor, horrible. And they open up 54. The most beautiful people in the world. We were ready for that. You can’t fit a square peg into a round hole, but with timing and a little bit of luck, it works. The Playboy Club is a little reminiscent of those times when we’re at the top and no one’s broke.

I’ve got to tell you something. No offense, but I don’t want to sit on a reclaimed barn door, you know, in a no-reservation restaurant. I get it. It’s like grunge. Grunge had a time. We went from glamour to grunge. You get sick of it and it goes back.

It’s like there’s a sparkle again. The labels and flash are back. It’s cool to look ridiculous, and I love that.
It’s a great time to dress up. The music is funky. It gets people up. So that’s a great time. Good for me. I had a 20-year-old saying, “Tell me about 54. What was it like?” I was like, “Sit on my knee, babes. I’ll tell you a couple stories.” Then again, they’re times I wish I was in the forties or twenties with flappers. That’s also a fantasy, right? If you could just tap a little bit into a memory and apply it to what’s happening current-day, maybe you’d have a shot. 

Do you think that’s what the Playboy Club is going to do? Blend new memories with crystalized nostalgia?
No one has a crystal ball, but my feeling is put all the great pieces together and let it germinate. The people will tell the story. I like to break some rules. I like it when people go, “What?” and they don’t get it but let them catch up.

What kind of rules are you breaking now?
I don’t like anything so perfect. Rich man, poor man. The whole idea that you can’t buy cool: You just can’t. He’s a billionaire, she’s a billionaire. What do we do now? We’re boring. Those people go after the creatives. I love the creatives. Like when Louis Vuitton commissioned Stephen Sprouse to spray paint their monogrammed bags. That’s when you have the magic. I like contrast and a bit of worldliness. That’s what Playboy represents. It’s not just about the visuals. It’s about being an adult, being able to do cool things around the world, get on a plane. It’s about the right drink, the right fashion, the right casting. I like to have interesting people as employees ‘cause I live that, too. 

I went through a lot of different life changes. I used to go to 59th Street, the first Playboy Club in New York, and it had smoked glass windows. I used to look in and see the Bunnies. I’d think, One day, one day when I’m 21 I’m gonna be a man and I can go and have a martini. I kind of fast-tracked a little bit ‘cause of 54. So I made it. I didn’t have to be 21. I was also living a double life. My friends in Queens weren’t having the life I had. I was never one to be like, "You know what I did last night?" If I’d told them, they’d be like, "Fuck you. I don't want to hear you drinking champagne with Rod Stewart."

Why were you such a hit at Studio 54? Is it because you’re just really good with people?
I got it, you know what I mean? I wasn’t trying too hard. I would sit there, and it’s not that hard to sit with Mick Jagger and Jerry Hall and drink champagne. And they would always offer. Opening night, my uniform was shorts and a vest with no shirt.

That was the signature?
Well, I broke the signature. Some gorgeous woman came up to me and said, “Oh, that’s a beautiful vest. You’re so cute. Can I see it?” And she ran off on me, away with it. Now it’s like 2,000 people there and I can’t find my shirt. I’m walking around and Steve Rubell sees me, of course, and starts yelling at me. As he's yelling, you can see a lightbulb go off over his head. He goes, "You know what, buddy? I like it. Tell everyone else to do the same." 

What’s the equivalent of that in the Playboy Club? Or does it have to happen organically?
You can't recreate. What I would say to someone about the expectation is that sometimes, there is no expectation in the expectations, meaning don't force it. If there are ten people, don't play music like there's a thousand in a club. It's like a miscast. Don't do that. So I think moment by moment, what I would love to bring in is a bit of mystery where you don't know what can happen. Moment by moment, the mood can change.

All of a sudden, the crowd's kind of feeling it, the music's louder and you're dancing on the bar. And if it's not that, then don't chase a party, and it can just be, hey, we're going to have cinema night on Monday. It's going to be classy and cool, but it's not—don’t fake it. It has to be authentic. Really missing in this world now is authenticity. Everyone's faking it. Everyone is giving their show reel on whatever social media they can. And it's not realistic. If we can get a little bit of authenticity back and stop the bullshit, it would be nice.

If you could have your dream group of people, living or dead, at a table in the Club, who would they be?
So a corner banquette. I'd love to have Andy back. Actually, bring back the old gang. I love them all. Andy Warhol, Peter Beard. He's still alive. And, like, you know, Picasso and Marilyn Monroe. I think just off the top of my head. 

Full-circle moment there with Playboy’s first cover star.
Yeah, I always thought I would get along with her. And Andy would have loved the Kardashians or Paris Hilton type. Like, to exploit that. 

I love that Paris Hilton is having a moment again and she’s completely herself.
Yeah, but Paris kind of calmed down, got her shit together and she has something to do. She had nothing to do before. Great. She has something to do. 

She also doesn’t dress like a Kardashian or follow the rules of what’s supposed to be current now.
Could you believe we’re going to be saying this? She’s actually elevated herself past that. Give her credit.

So what’s your take on cocktails for the Playboy Club?
You know, a lot of these things are a little too cliché. Let’s have fun with it, you know? Let’s reference a James Bond villain. Everyone’s way too serious, afraid to do anything wrong. I don’t know. Relax a little bit. 

Why New York for the relaunch of the Club? Why this city and not another one?
Once you walk out your door, it's show time. Really. I mean I've lived in New York all my life, and I'm still stimulated by walking out the door. I love people watching. I can go from one neighborhood to the other, and once you walk through the Lower East Side and all the way up to the Upper West Side, just look around, take a photo of something and dig into the West Village. 

I like Instagram for the photography, but I don’t like it because the mystery is out. I ran into someone in the street and I was like, “Oh, hey. I was just in—” He goes, “Yeah, I know.” I said, “Well, I guess we have nothing to talk about then.” Social media is not so social. I feel like the world is going upside-down. It could be a good thing. I just don’t know. But the pendulum swings. You’re going to see people writing notes. That’ll be a real sign of specification and sincerity. Maybe everyone should stop being a star. Be a star within your own neighborhood. That’s good enough. 

Published on Playboy.com. Photography by Evan Woods