The Starecase

When it comes to celebrity watching, the town of Beverly Hills, Calif, (pop. 33,500), is the capital of the world. "We're all voyeurs here," says Screenwriter Peter Stone, who just escalated a notch toward celebrityhood himself by winning an Oscar for the year's best script, Father Goose. "When we pull up to a red light we all look over at the next car to see who's in it." In this high-proof concentration of fame and beauty, the highest-proof spot between the hours of 10 p.m. and 2 a.m. is something called the Daisy.

The Daisy is a discotheque, run as a "club" by its owner, Jack Hanson, inventor of Tax slacks. He decides who will be allowed to pay a $250 "membership fee." Thus not the least of the pleasures of belonging is the knowledge --swiftly telegraphed throughout the movie colony--that one night recently, both Peter O'Toole and Jason Robards Jr. were turned away because they weren't members or members' guests. Another of the Daisy's pleasures is that it has some of the most eye-filling females in the U.S. frugging and swimming their little hearts out in poorboy sweaters and nothing underwear.

One night last week Carol Lynley, Jane Fonda, Jill St. John and Jill Haworth shimmered and bobbed beautifully on the tight little dance floor, while Anthony Quinn, Dean Martin, George Hamilton and Eddie Fisher gave the girls something to stare at. On the night of the Academy Awards, two-thirds of the winners showed up afterward to gawk and talk.

The Daisy's dance floor is surrounded by tables and black leather armchairs that swivel--for obvious reasons. Handsome crystal chandeliers illuminate the bar, an elaborately carved pool table graces a paneled billiard room where baseball's Leo Durocher conducts a highly oral brand of psychological warfare against such regulars as Actor Peter Falk. After the 2 a.m. curfew on drinks (but not dancing), free coffee and fresh fruit are provided. But no other food is ever served and no money changes hands; members sign their bills at the end of the evening. On Saturday nights, the Sunday papers are placed in each parked car.

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