NYC pools are ‘hell on earth’ with long lines and strict dress codes

Filled with booze and lots of bikinis, these parties are quickly becoming the place to be during summer. But locals say a visit isn’t worth the wait - or pricetag.

New Yorkers are going off the deep end in their search for a good pool.

The oppressive heat of these late summer days has them paying thousands of dollars, waiting in long lines and arriving at ungodly hours of the morning for access to a cool body of water. Pools there are hot commodities — and about as relaxing as a packed subway car.

“It’s gonna be twice as crowded in a couple hours, just wait,” says Kevin Camino, 29, a regular at Profundo Day Club in Long Island City, where, at 3.30pm, the rooftop pool deck was bustling with bikini-clad women, shirtless guys and blaring house music from a DJ booth.

At Profundo, where Brody Jenner will celebrate his birthday later this month, a cabana for six with bottle service like the one Camino lounges in multiple times a week will cost anywhere from $1000 to $5000 — and that’s if you can get in. Regulars say they often have to know a promoter to get access if they haven’t booked their spot weeks in advance. And the club enforces a strict dress code.

Some of the cabanas at these pool clubs cost thousands, and guests must abide by strict dress codes.

“They don’t let in guys who wear jewellery, let’s just put it that way — they try to keep the party good-looking,” says promoter Anthony Ramoutar. Other rules posted at the door include a ban on Speedo-type swimwear, construction footwear, baseball caps and socks with sandals.

“You should dress like you’re in Vegas, not like you’re going to your sister-in-law’s pool party,” says Profundo guest Ashley Maria, 28, who visited from Long Island and shared an $800 poolside bed with three friends. Her pals say they planned their outfits weeks in advance for their Profundo day.

Journalist Lauren Steussy says NYC pools are hell on earth with long lines and strict dress codes.

Elsewhere in the city, it’s no easier to cool off. At the exclusive Soho House, membership costs $3300 a year, including access to its rooftop pool. But just because members can get in doesn’t mean they’ll get a good spot. Member and Noho resident Victoria Natenzon, 28, says she has to arrive as early as 7am to the club’s Dumbo location to get a good spot in the shade.

“I’m very, very pale, so getting a cabana is kind of important,” says Ms Natenzon, adding that on a recent Sunday, she arrived to the line at 7.45am to find nearly 50 people in front of her already.

Tourists say pool access this summer isn't worth the wait.

Sometimes it’s so packed at the pool, you can hardly find space to walk, she says: “In the past there were walkways (on the pool deck), but when there’s no more space on the cabanas, people just put their towels on the ground.”

It’s no easier at the city’s municipal free pools, which also have a strict dress code — although maybe more along the lines of what you’d wear to your sister-in-law’s pool party: “We may choose to check men’s shorts for a lining if we can’t tell if they are wearing a bathing suit,” the rules to the NYC public pool read on the city’s website. “We don’t allow shirts with colours on them on the deck,” and locks are required to enter.

Pools such as those in Williamsburg’s McCarren Park open at 11am, but a line to get the best spot starts forming much earlier, even on weekdays.

The pool club isn't all that in New York.

“During the heatwave, people started queuing up starting at 10am,” says Crown Heights mum Jenny Gerozissis, 39, while waiting in line on a recent Friday.

Even the most private of pools — those in residential buildings — won’t offer summer solace, says Courtney, a Prospect Heights resident who works in education and couldn’t give her last name for professional reasons. She visits her friend’s Long Island City building for access to its rooftop pool, which she always hopes will be a “calm oasis from the rest of the city” toting along some cold rosé and a book. But time and again, the scene is a chaotic hellscape, she says. Other residents and their guests blare “headache-inducing” music and will save chairs for friends who never seem to materialise.

During the heatwave, people started queuing at 10am.

“We had to sit on the ground,” says the 31-year-old. “They had some AstroTurf, but it’s plastic, so it’s actually very hot in the summer.”

Chances are, if you want to cool off in the city, you’ll be paying for it. Day passes to popular hotel pools are increasingly available — at a steep cost: Crowd favourites such as the Williamsburg Hotel sell cabana space for about $1000. Nearby, a day pass at the McCarren Hotel costs $180 for a pool bed on the weekends. But many find the reservation fees alone hard to swallow since they don’t usually include the cost of refreshments.

Visitors beat the heat among bubbles at Profundo.

“You do it once and you don’t need to do it again,” says pool connoisseur Kenza, a 24-year-old asset manager who declined to provide her last name for professional reasons. Regarding McCarren Hotel’s day passes, she’s not inclined to return: “I’ll go somewhere else. It’s not worth it.”

Even at Profundo, which regulars praise for their “Queens prices”, the club’s “chaise lounge” spots go for $150 a person. Chairs — located farthest away from the pool — are $60 to $100 a person. The club’s owners say the ticketed spots are a way to keep it from getting too crowded. But the hierarchy can sometimes create problems. Sarah Fino and her husband Joe splurged on a poolside cabana on a recent Sunday and found they needed to be on guard for “leeches”, Fino, 31, says, referring to the pool-goers who sometimes encroached on their prime pool real estate. “They all pretend they’re your best friend,” he said.

She says it’s never enough of an issue to raise a stink about, though: “They’ll find someone else to leech on.” But that’s part of the problem, say fed-up pool-goers.

“The beaches take an hour-and-a-half to get to, the public pools are so overcrowded and there are so many rules,” says Courtney. “We always think going to the pool is going to be this peaceful opportunity to cool off, but it never turns out that way here.”

This article originally appeared on the New York Post and was reproduced with permission