There are three different ways to get into Ivar, an enormous, yet warm and cozy, nightclub in Hollywood. Be a celebrity and ride the red carpet, become a paparazzo and join the press line, or wait in an hour-plus queue with hopeful, scantily clad girls and those who fawn over them (you also get to pay $20 for the privilege of entering the club). Relaxing, upbeat, old-school selections (Lauryn Hill, remixed Madonna) are great to bop to, and the friendly bartenders serve one kind of drink: stiff. Beaded curtains, lush lighting and leather seating for intimate gatherings or raucous parties makes you feel at home even in the crowd. A square, roped-off VIP area flaunts itself in the corner of the main floor, but it’s not exactly private – anyone can look in on the ample bosoms with legs who congregate there. Ivar’s dress code varies from schlubby jeans and old sneakers to miniscule short-shorts, cocktail dresses and barely-there scraps on hot, and less-than-hot, bodies. Bar service in the exclusive, uber-comfy couch booths along the far wall goes for $600; if you arrive early or know the promoter, you can slip inside and take the “special sections” for a test-drive, but once the place gets crowded, the hosts and hostesses will whisper apologetically that you need to scram. Jenn Laskey of Red Light Productions throws a good pre-Oscar party on the Friday before the Academy Awards.