Zebra Room: Town House Hotel’s Exotic Nightclub
- KP
- Apr 6
- 7 min read
Hollywood went absolutely wild for the Zebra Room, a swanky nightclub inside the Town House on Wilshire Boulevard and Commonwealth Avenue, overlooking Lafayette Park.
True to its name, the “famous cocktail rendezvous” was decorated in a dazzle of black and white, an exotic theme that began at its entrance with a neon zebra sign, two-tone marble doorway, and rubber welcome mat patterned after the animal’s distinctive coat.
Inside, zebra stripes swathed the upholstery, linens, and lampshades, with black-and-white accents on the glassware and table legs. A mural depicted a zeal of zebras zig-zagging through the Serengeti with a lone giraffe as monkeys swing from a tree overhead. Specialty cocktails were served in zebra-head mugs.
At the Zebra Room, “you meet the world’s smartest Smart Set, the stars of stage, screen, and radio from the exclusive Hollywood colony,” promised the lounge’s advertisements. “And the famous Zebra Room cocktail hour, from 5 to 7, is another treat, a most colorful gathering of the elite of this sparkling city.”
It was all the brainchild of futuristic architect Wayne McAllister (Cinegrill, Biltmore Bowl, Bob’s Big Boy, Pig ’n Whistle and Simon’s carhop restaurants), who was commissioned in 1937 to design a fashionable nightclub on the ground floor of the Town House for its relaunch as a hotel. Eight years earlier, the 13-story tower opened as one of the most luxurious apartment buildings on the West Coast.
The Zebra Room was so significant to Hollywood nightlife, its own entrance was carved out of the building’s neoclassical facade fronting Wilshire. Letters spelled out “Zebra Room” in a modern font over a cantilevered metal canopy that could double as a marquee spotlighting the featured entertainment, like the Rhythm Rascals.
Before an evening of dancing at the Zebra Room, patrons could enjoy a gourmet meal from the hotel’s other themed venue, Cape Cod Room, in a quaint New England atmosphere. The surf-and-turf menu featured a trout that patrons could catch on their own from the restaurant’s fish tank.
At the entrance on Wilshire, next to the neon zebra sign, the Cape Cod Room caught the attention of passing motorists with a lifelike fisherman sitting beside a pelican on a wharf’s edge mending a net.
In 1946, LIFE magazine named the Zebra Room one of the most famous bars in the United States, illustrated by a photograph of patrons mesmerized by its hottest cocktail: Vesuvius, a layered mix of grenadine, creme de menthe, Cointreau, and Southern Comfort topped with a lemon rind soaked in rum, dipped in sugar—and then set on fire for volcanic effect. The price was also a scorcher at $5, equivalent to $80 today with inflation.
Herman Lang, a busboy at the Zebra Room, recalled his glory days of working at the glamorous nightclub to his niece K. Lang-Slattery, an author who was inspired to write the 2015 book, Immigrant Soldier. Lang was a Jewish refugee who escaped Nazi Germany in 1938 and came to California, where he first got a job at the Town House’s Wedgewood Room. After befriending a Zebra Room bartender, he was transferred to the hotel’s hotspot, working 10-hour shifts for $25-a-week. To earn extra money, Lang “had a little racket on the side,” he told his niece:
There were only three or four waiters in the whole lounge, and besides my salary, I got a share of their tips, which in those days was very good. . . . and I had a little racket on the side. I rented out neckties. Because nobody could come in without a tie, many customers needed a tie. So I rented them for a dollar a night. They could keep the tie, but they were so lousy, nobody wanted to keep them. I bought them at Woolworths for 25 cents. So I always got the ties back. It was a good business. . . .Like New Year’s Eve, you could make $200!
The Zebra Room changed its stripes, literally, in 1955 when Sheraton took over the hotel from Conrad Hilton and remodeled it for the mid-century. Downplaying its signature decor scheme, the nightclub swapped the animal print upholstery for black leather and carpeted the room in a black-and-white geometric pattern. The zebra mural was also repainted, erasing the playful monkeys—and any remaining whimsy from the space.
In 1965, for the first time in three decades of operation, Sheraton implemented a $5 cover charge (equivalent to $50 in 2025), a whopping fee that sent the Zebra Room into extinction.
A long forgotten relic, the Zebra Room earned its stripes at Disney in 2000 when California Adventure opened Hollywood & Dine, a food court honoring “the romance of Hollywood’s Golden Age society” with four iconic eateries: Don the Beachcomber, Wilshire Bowl, Villa Capri, and Schwab’s. A corner of the dining area was dedicated to a replica of the Zebra Room, complete with a pair of zebra-striped banquettes beneath the same original mural of zebras running through the Serengeti with a lone giraffe as monkeys swing from the branches.
Unfortunately, Hollywood & Dine didn’t last long at California Adventure and by 2001 the food court was shut down. If only we knew what became of the mural!
The Town House continued on after the Zebra Room, although business diminished over the subsequent decades. In 1972, Sheraton sold to the Tokyo-based conglomerate Kyo-Ya, which ultimately closed down the hotel in 1993—and immediately applied for a permit to demolish the historic property. Worse yet, Kyo-Ya intended to let the land remain unused for as long as fifteen years until the depressed real estate market recovered. Los Angeles City Council voted to block the permit (and eventually granted the Town House landmark status), as local developers scrambled to acquire the hotel and rehabilitate it for affordable housing.
Malibu-based Robert MacLeod Jr. won the project (and the government funding that came with it), spending $26 million and eight years converting the building—which he renamed MacLeod Townhouse—into 142 low-income units that rented for as little as $400 a month when doors opened in 2001. In an interview with the Los Angeles Times, MacLeod bragged about his “premier” development, “a place with fabulous, fabulous rooms, dedicated to a fine quality of life,” as well as commissioned art and chandeliers in the public spaces. Amenities included an Olympic-size pool, one of the first in LA when it was completed in 1955.
But residents who spoke to the LAT reporter in 2002 painted a different story. They claimed the elevators in the 13-story building “keep breaking down” and the fitness room was locked up despite being fully stocked with equipment.
Worse, there were serious violations regarding fire safety, electrical, maintenance, heating/ventilation, and unpermitted construction on the historic landmark, according to a log started by the Los Angeles Housing Department in August 2005. The violations piled up, and as the City Attorney considered filing criminal charges on behalf of the Los Angeles Fire Department, in February 2008 the LAHD recommended the termination of rent reductions for all but eight units at MacLeod Townhouse. The violations were ultimately corrected and rent reduction restored. However, in July of that year the Los Angeles Times deemed Sheraton Town House at 639 S. Commonwealth Avenue one of the “worst offenders” of public pool maintenance, stating it had been closed down by the County seven times in three years. According to a tenant in 2021, the pool was drained and closed altogether.
According to online complaints by tenants, conditions have not improved. Among the issues cited are “horrible” management, water leaks (and no hot water in the winter), rats in the lobby, lack of security, broken elevators, and being charged for repairs done to their unit.
Online photos for the Town House are scarce and incredibly dated, depicting a relatively well-maintained building with trees and flowers (as well as a crumbling roof sign that has lost several letters). The most recent Google Street views, from 2022 after new management took over, are startling, with dirt patches where vegetation once grew.
But nothing prepared me for the building’s current state when I drove down there in April 2025: graffiti, rust, crumbling facade and walls, chipped paint, broken lighting with exposed wires, trash, liquor bottles, a filthy mattress beneath a tenant’s window. There was feces on the steps of the Zebra Room’s once famed entrance! Scaffolding surrounded the entire frontage on Commonwealth and Wilshire, but it’s unclear why as there are no permits noted on ZIMAS. (I have reached out to the LA Housing Department and will add their response if I receive one.)
The Zebra Room is honored just steps from where it once ruled the Hollywood nightlife scene. Adjacent to the Town House is LA Celebrations, a banquet hall operating out of 2969 Wilshire, built in 1929 as a two-story annex to the hotel. A century later, LA Celebrations hosts events in its three on-site venues: Main Ballroom, Townhouse Garden—and Zebra Room. However, this one is nothing like the original, with the only “zebra” detail being a black-and-white ceiling... but it is the thought that counts.
Side note: LA Celebrations erroneously claims Elizabeth Taylor’s first wedding, to Nicky Hilton, was held on the premises in 1950 when Conrad Hilton owned the Town House. The short-lived couple actually married at the Church of the Good Shepherd in Beverly Hills and held their lavish reception at the Bel-Air Country Club.
It’s unclear how much longer LA Celebrations will be operating out of 2969 Wilshire. In April 2024, Carlos Vaquerano, CEO of Clinica Romero, purchased the historic property from MacLeod for $13.25 million in an all-cash offer with a ULA non-profit exemption in place. Vaquerano announced in the non-profit’s 2024 Annual Report that the building “will be our new Immigrant Wellness and Cultural Center, allowing us to serve our immigrant populations in a larger capacity than ever before.”
Coincidentally, Clinica Romero held its 40th anniversary gala at LA Celebrations in November 2023, headlined by Los Angeles Mayor Karen Bass as the keynote speaker.
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