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This venue is closed.

Smith Street’s mini Moulin Rouge has had some growing pains—the nabe’s old guard thought it was an S&M bar and wasn’t a fan of the live acts—but after three months in hibernation it’s back with a paired down performance schedule and the same Victorian parlor décor. Behind a faux boutique window display and red velvet curtains that warn off the testosterone set, Sarah Lawrence and Smith grads sip sake martinis such as the Geisha Girl (made with lychee juice), mellow out with friends, and on Fridays and Saturdays, catch the late-night burlesque show on the tiny front stage. While 1920s films project on the front wall, a dj spins vaudeville and soul tunes from atop an armoire containing beauty and bedroom products. A stray suit sometimes plants himself at the tiny wine and beer bar to sneak peaks at the lingiere- or kimono-clad bartender in the overhanging antique mirrors, but for the most part the spunky hostesses see to it that the patrons mix and mingle. Boudoir fancies itself as a den of sensuality and constantly tries out gimmicks like on-site masseuses and private sex-product parties, but the real thrill is out back: a homey garden overrun by delightfully fragrant onion grass. — Daniel Maurer