LADIES' NIGHT

FOR a Tuesday night, the turnout at the ultra-hip Les Deux is quite impressive — a mix of suits, socialites, bombshells and urban fashionistas. Near the bar, amid the darkly clad clientele, stands a sawed-off shotgun of a woman dressed in heels and a low-cut, pink-and-purple dress that's shorter than the patience of the doorman out front. She orders a Corona and a glass. Other women in the vicinity throw a few sideways glances; one gives her a condescending "excuse me, sweetie" as she squeezes past to a nearby couch.

Beer in hand, the woman makes her way down the hallway to the turntable setup in the back room while male onlookers turn not-so-subtly to admire the view. Headphones strategically placed over her platinum 'do, she cues up her first track, a scorching remix of Pitbull's "Bojangles" that quickly turns quizzical stares into satisfying grins. For the next two hours, DJ Lady Tribe holds the floor like a senator delivering a filibuster, dropping hip-hop anthems and old-school hits with a vivaciousness matched only by the people dancing in front of her.

Before the rise of the superstar DJ toward the turn of the millennium, glitz and glam behind the turntables were usually reserved for theatrical performers such as Boy George. Most DJs floated from the studio to the club in jeans and screen-printed T-shirts. And although a handful of women broke through, they were unquestionably in the minority.

But now, with a resurgent underground scene and a MySpace-fueled explosion in digital DJ bar culture, more and more women are putting the needle on the record, and they aren't just flaunting their skills.



"There's a healthy scene here in Los Angeles," says Rap, who along with the likes of Sandra Collins and Reid Speed emigrated to L.A. and have capitalized on the opportunities here. "If a promoter can have someone that looks good and can do damage on the decks, he'll book that person every time. If you're comfortable with it, I see nothing wrong with embracing your looks. Go for it! Use everything you have in your weaponry."

In Hollywood, where a killer haircut and the right connections can get a less talented foot in the door, there's sturdy competition for the best nights at the best locations. Women have found themselves with a number of options: establishing female DJ collectives, promoting women's-only nights, or simply brandishing that weaponry and accentuating their good looks.

"Being a woman in a male-dominated field can be lucrative if you clearly define your goals," says Tuesdae, a popular and risqué local DJ who has since hung up her headphones to pursue other endeavors. "Sexuality is an easy sell, and drawing the line between being classy and trashy has always been a breeze. It was a business for me, not a lifestyle."



BUT for some, certain lifestyle choices have made the business side of DJing a slippery slope. In September 2004, Playboy's annual music issue featured a pictorial titled "Beauty and the Beats." Along with Tuesdae, Diamond and other select spinstresses, the spread featured an up-and-coming DJ named Tatiana Alvarez. The shoot, orchestrated by her then-manager, led to a number of gigs, including a regular slot on the "Hot Import Nights" tour, an auto show known as much for its exotic women as its exotic cars. Deeply passionate about electronic music, Alvarez felt stifled by the show's predominantly hip-hop aesthetic. Things were equally frustrating in the dance world, where her newfound game enabled her to leapfrog male DJs who had waited much longer for their big break.

"If you use your looks you're going to open doors, but you'd better be a sick DJ, which nobody is when they start off, especially not girls like me who were pushed out too early," concedes Alvarez, who enjoyed a successful runway career before her start in DJing. "I don't regret Playboy, but I wish I would have been more established before I'd done it. Unfortunately I now have to unravel the choices I made, and the effort it's taking is large."

In 2006, Alvarez launched her own independent record label, Jook Music, and now tours extensively throughout the U.S. and abroad. She was also hand-picked by Perry Farrell to open for his new band, Satellite Party, at their Winter X Games performance in January.

DJ Lady Tribe is also a graduate of the "Hot Import Nights" circuit. A respected graffiti artist, Tribe honed her chops while under house arrest for tagging, among other things, the windshield of a moving city bus. Born and raised on L.A. b-boy culture, she spins a flammable, uplifting mix of hip-hop and '80s gems at Les Deux and other residencies.

"I can't lie, it opens the doors," she says of her looks, which were recently immortalized by Maisto Toys' Lady Tribe doll, complete with turntables. "But to stay in the clubs you need that skill. People can make their looks a marketing scheme. I ain't no scheme. I dress like this because I like to dress like this. I'm naturally sexy, that's the way I am, but I also believe in skill and credibility."

Tribe has caught flak from other female DJs for her provocative outfits and magazine spreads, and she's come to accept the catty looks she catches at places like Les Deux. An hour later, however, many of those same women are high-fiving her on the dance floor, requesting songs and offering to buy her drinks.

"She has a real respect for the culture, history and work ethic of DJing," says Hollywood celebrity DJ Morty Coyle. "You have to be able to close your eyes at a club and still be turned on by the DJ. Tribe brings her A game, not just her D-cups. If anything, her looks probably make it harder for her to be taken seriously."

In addition to their solo careers, some women have formed DJ collectives or host ladies-only nights, like divaDanielle's monthly "Girls Spun Wild" at the Mountain Bar in Chinatown. Amanda Michele, one-third of the Trinity DJs along with DJ Jooj and Mara Lupton, enjoys the professional camaraderie and festive atmosphere that these gigs promote.

"Trinity is a collective of smart, sophisticated women who love dance music, and strive to create an atmosphere of fun and togetherness," Michele says. "When I'm on stage, I like to dance, I like to engage the crowd, and I dress a little sassy. At the end of the day, it's all about how you rock the crowd."



IN a town like this, separating the pretenders from the contenders is a daily ritual for local promoters. Digital mixing programs that feature automated beat-matching capabilities like Torq and Serato Scratch LIVE have helped turn MP3 collectors into bedroom DJs with passable mixing skills. Toss in a slick MySpace page loaded with photos and a massive friends list, and the hype machine can roar. After 18 years in the business, and with considerably more than 6,000 events to his name, promoter Danny Bitar (Danny B) can recognize the telltale signs.

"There are so many in this town, especially in the last two years" he says of the pretenders. "If they don't have experience and technique, I'm not so impressed. But because [DJing] is performance, I think the girls have an advantage for sure."

Certainly, role-playing behind the decks — whether it's devilish and flirtatious with clothes to match, or fiercely intimidating with an air of high fashion — is a luxury that most men don't have.

"Everyone has a different approach," says DJ Syrena, founder of Selectress.com, a website devoted to recognizing and promoting female DJs of all calibers. "I love experimenting with different looks and developing a certain character within my music, then using that to enhance the performance."