Just getting into the Herradura ULTRA party was an accomplishment. We braved rain (a big deal in Los Angeles) and navigated through narrow, cliff-hugging streets in Beverly Hills to get to the event's secret residence. When our car pulled up to the corner of the home, we were redirected back down the hill to valet parkers by young men wearing suits, sunglasses, and headsets (think Men in Black). Our car was quickly whisked away and we were ushered into a van which then shuttled us back up the hill and to the party. Whew! We excited the van and jumped into a golf cart tram (think Disneyland) that wouldn't get going until security came by to verify every rider's ID. Two people were politely removed from the tram who weren't on "the list" (so LA) and after a few heated phrases including a "you don't know who I am" (not kidding) we could continue towards the final destination, as if all of this was completely normal.
The first part of the party was held on a sprawling lawn with unobstructed views of Los Angeles. Appetizer trays were passed around by models sporting leather lingerie. Celebrity DJs spun rap and R&B. Tequila collectors on either side of us boasted about their prize-winning stashes. And the people just kept pouring in.
The second part of the party, dubbed Club James, took place inside the residence (most of which was still under construction so we only partied in one room). Picture a huge space lined with windows on one side and a long concrete bar stocked with Herradura ULTRA bottles on the other. A dozen bartenders mixed cocktails in unison with the DJ's beat for a very thirsty, twenty-something crowd.
When following up on #HerraduraULTRA tweets later that night we came across this gem, which perfectly captures the mindset of the young attendees we witnessed there:
"At a nightclub...at someone's house in the hills. Yup this is real life #Hollywood #ClubJames"
Well done, Herradura ULTRA. #MissionAccomplished.