Inside the Velvet Ropes of Weed Elitism: Boof du Jour Infiltrates a Members-Only Cannabis Lounge
- Boof du Jour
- Jun 27
- 4 min read
LOS ANGELES, CA — FIELD DISPATCH by Boof du Jour Staff | Reporting from inside the bourgeois bong cloud
I’m writing this from the pleather-tufted armrest of a members-only cannabis lounge in West Hollywood—the kind of place curated to make The Studio Lounge by The Artist Tree look like a L.A. dive bar.
I’m crossfaded, furious, and surrounded by people who all look like they’ve sued their own cousins over startup equity.
This place claims to blend "curated weed experiences" with "bespoke community engagement." What that means in practice is: you pay $420/month to sit in a silent room filled with quartz sculptures and vape in fear.
They took my phone at the door. Not for security—just so I wouldn’t "disrupt the frequency."
“This Isn’t a Lounge. It’s a Controlled Vibe Chamber.”
At the entrance, I’m greeted by a host named Milo, who looks like if a TED Talk and a 23andMe kit got high and opened a juice bar. He hands me a laminated "session orientation" card and says with his whole chest:
"We’re not a dispensary. We’re a resonance space."
I’m immediately led through a hallway of black concrete and LED-lit faux botanicals. Somewhere, a woman whispers "Limonene is love" as a diffuser blasts lavender-cured Gelato fumes into the ether.
Inside, it’s less "stoner haven" and more "postmodern hookah bar curated by AI." There’s no music. No talking.
Just the soft gurgle of dab rigs and the hum of $800 air purifiers. A guy in the corner is microdosing and journaling in leather gloves.
Membership Costs $420 a Month and Your Soul
This lounge launched with a "selective application process," which, according to leaked screenshots I bribed a budtender to send me, mostly involved checking for LinkedIn Premium and a trust fund.
Members include:
A former Soho House director turned "Cannabis Culture Curator"
A midsummer candle influencer named @BurningBush420
Some guy from Canopy Growth who won't shut up about “cross-border synergy”
The “intro tier” grants you access to:
Four pre-rolls per month
One “Intentional Consumption Circle”
A laminated cannabis tasting mat that looks like it belongs at a fucking wine bar
A biweekly “Ego Reset” guided by a man named Jonas who once DJed for Goop
The Weed Is Mid, But the Branding Slaps
I tried a “house exclusive” joint called Cloud Atlas #17, which the menu claimed was “inspired by duality, heartbreak, and the West Coast Jazz Revival.” It tasted like cured lettuce and smoked like a rolled-up press release.THC tested at 17.4%, but the ego inflation hit harder than any terpene in the jar.
Most members don’t even finish their joints. They take two hits, whisper something about “the experience,” and snuff it out on a vegan cork coaster.
There’s a woman next to me now explaining to a silent date how she doesn’t “consume THC unless it’s organic and spiritually aligned.” She’s wearing a $600 hoodie that just says “Plant.”
“Weed is Sacred... but Also $85 an Eighth”
In the “Terpene Alcove,” I sit in on a small circle session led by a man named Sky, who tells us that THC is “less important than vibration.” He passes around a wooden box filled with tiny jars of flower, each labeled with handwritten affirmations like “Clarity,” “Surrender,” and “Crypto Recovery.”
I ask him if any of the flower was lab tested.
“We don’t test—we trust,” he says, before sneezing directly into the sample jar.
I do, however, spot a Connected Cannabis Co. branded tin peeking out from behind the “heirloom sativa” stash. When I ask about it, Milo tells me that’s the “community blend for lower-tier members.”
Luxury Weed Culture Is Just Gentrified Paranoia
Every surface in this place feels like it costs more than a used car, and yet no one looks comfortable.No one is high enough to giggle. No one talks to strangers. It’s like if Euphoria High did a collab with DMV architecture.
This isn’t a cannabis lounge. This is a wellness-themed hostage situation for rich people afraid of their own plug.
In the corner, a man in a chambray apron explains how his brand will “redefine flower for the masculine feminine.”A DJ sets up for a set where no one will dance.Someone vapes concentrate from a glass phallus and whispers “bliss.”
Final Thoughts From the Panic Couch
I’ve spent four hours here. I’m $175 poorer, lightly high, and spiritually damaged.If weed culture used to be about rebellion, pleasure, or even just fucking around, this is its taxidermied corpse—branded, budgeted, and boxed into tiered memberships.
Luxury cannabis lounges are where good weed goes to die and gets replaced with curated mediocrity and branded enlightenment.
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