THE RADAR TRENDS
BY GARY BAUM
Angeleno - Modern Luxury, June 2006

POINT BREAK
Manhattan Beach finally flip-flops from semi-cheesy to coastal chichi
It’s been a slow slog, but after almost two decades, the sandy backwater of Manhattan Beach is at last riding high on a wave of conspicuous cool. These days, it’s as well known for progressive boutiques and pioneering restaurants as it is for its longstanding chief cultural export: 84-ounce drink buckets of tequila, rum, grenadine and fruit juice ordered at the fratastic local meet market, Baja Sharkeez.

In large part, this shift, which had until recently been driven by annual influx dominated by USC post-grads, has broadened to include priced-out-of-Santa Monica refugees looking for a mix of laid-back seaside scenery and sizzling see-and-be-seen scene. “I’m constantly doing homes around here now for top-level executives and entrepreneurs,” says developer Matt Morris of the area, where 3,000-square-foot houses generally cost around $3 million, while the top of the market soars into the $9 million range – the amount recently paid for a 4,500 – footer located on the Strand, Manhattan Beach’s pristine 2-mile stretch of oceanfront land. “Suddenly, it’s become a lot like the Malibu Colony in the summer, only year-round,” says Morris.

One such big fish, Sketchers shoe company CEO Michael Greenberg, says amen to such casual ethos in the town of about 34,000. “It’s a turn – your- hat- backwards kind of place,” he says. “Guys that you see who are overly dressed up on a Friday night at Zinc or Petros are either lost or from out of town.”

Zinc and Petros, which both opened late last year, are the nucleus of the new guard. The latter is netting both walking-distance locals and Euro-flashy tourists, Beverly Hills trophy wives and bold-faced names like James Spader and Rachel Hunter, all of whom come to enjoy ouzo shots amid a clean sweep of neutral, blond-wood décor. The menu features spanakorizo (spinach risotto) and sautéed lavrake (sea bass), but certainly no Americanized offerings like grape leaves or gyros. “You can go to Daphne’s for that,” sniffs owner Petros Benefos, a veteran of the SoCal shmatte business who also owns a newly erected vintage denim shop next door, where hottie young mommies sift through oversized belt buckles and fancily embroidered $140 cowboy boots.

Just a few steps away, in the lobby of the boutique Shade Hotel, is Zinc, a modernist lounge that desperately wants to distance itself from the South Bay’s beach-town quaintness in favor of the much slicker, studied vibe of Venice Beach’s latest crop of Hollywood-inspired hot-to-trot spots. The space welcomes expense-account boozehounds and their ultra-highlighted muses, all of whom are busy schmoozing along the lengthy bar and canoodling on the low-slung modular couches. Typical celeb spottings trend toward Mia Hamm, Maria Sharapova or Kate Hudson. Unlike the nearby Side Door, its sign-less and candlelit main competitor, Zinc is relatively raucous for the neighborhood- and, due to the noise, forced to call the whole thing off every evening at 11 PM. “After that point people start acting like idiots anyway,” says owner Michael Zislis.

The 38-room hotel itself, which is also operated by Zislis, was originally conceived as a family-oriented bed-and-breakfast, but, by the time it debuted last November, it had evolved into sort of mutant love child, as cofathered by Andre Balazs and Jimmy Buffett: Sure, there are Mascioni bathrobes and chilled bottles of Fiji water at turndown every night. But the minibar is packed with pina colada mix and a blender stands at the ready next to the Lavazza espresso machine.

Although the area has started to channel big-city bigwigs like Balazs, it’s still a place where the boardwalk – and its demand of year-round, skin-blaring physical perfection-is never far from mind. That’s why the beauty realm may be the most robust growth industry in Manhattan Beach’s second act. Trilogy Spa, which launched on Valentine’s Day, has quickly become known for its sugar scrub soufflé bar where visitors self-apply moisturizing scents like pikaki plumeria and mango coconut. Down the road, a white-on-white salon called Hush Hush, helmed by former Allen Edwards mane man Ric Arrigoni, began locking up the coveted 18 to 24-year old market a few months back. And a couple of blocks over, amid the cougar-dining-den mecca of Towne, Talia’s and Avenue, the oh-so-apropos Avante Medical Aesthetics is briskly doling out injections of Restylane and collagen to the over-40 set.

Along with all of the primping power is a verging-on-Robertson-level row of stores that have colonized the neighborhood in recent years, from the Fred Segal-esque on display next to the Frog and Toad books. Denim lines like True Religion and Lucky Brand have just set up outlets near T-shirt king Michael Stars. Funky-chic flies at Dolly Rocker, while its older sister, Third Gallery, offers up Trina Turk and Ella Moss. And, as of the last eight months, guys have finally gotten into the aesthetic act with A-Team, a sneakerhead shop with a modern-minimalist design that looks an awful lot like Undefeated on La Brea. “They just sit down, try on a few pairs of shoes, and watch some anime,” says owner Adrian Vaughan of his target demo of hardcore South Bay footwear fanatics, who are now skipping the trip up the 405 for their fix of limited-run Reebok Ice Creams and Dunk Low-Tops.

All of this chichi activity is certainly raising Manhattan Beach’s profile, but it’s also taken on the least a few losses. Petros owner Benekos, for instance, has recently fled from the kind of glitz that he’s had such a large part in creating – he recently sold his Manhattan Beach digs and moved a few minutes north to El Segundo. “It’s the last Mohican of the old beach cities,” he says of his new home. “At least for now.”