Long before athleisure conquered theme parks, Disneyland operated in a sharply tailored world. Guests dressed for the occasion. Women navigated the park in stockings and heels. Men, meanwhile, had another option entirely, retreating to a private club where lunch meetings, massages and martinis replaced stroller duty.
That place was the Oak Room, a men-only restaurant and health club tucked inside the original Disneyland Hotel. For decades, it existed quietly, known mostly to insiders, executives and invited VIPs. Today, it has largely vanished from public memory.
“It was like a good-old-boy secret that they didn’t do a lot of talking about,” said Don Ballard, author of “The Disneyland Hotel: The Early Years, 1954–1988” and “The Disneyland Hotel 1954–1959: The Little Motel in the Middle of the Orange Grove,” speaking by phone with SF Gate.
A Private Retreat on Restaurant Row
The Oak Room sat along the hotel’s former “Restaurant Row,” now part of Downtown Disney near Din Tai Fung and the western security gates. Its design leaned into an English pub aesthetic, filtered through midcentury California taste.
Red leather banquettes lined the room. Tables wore matching cloths topped with floral arrangements. Dark wood walls displayed carved signs inspired by British taverns, including a gold-accented deer labeled “The White Hart,” a galleon reading “The Ship,” and a bright yellow medallion bearing “Ye Olde Cheshire Cheese.”
Membership was restricted to men, though how one qualified, or paid, has faded from record. Women could enter only in the evening as guests, when live music and dancing took over. Daytime access belonged solely to members handling business over lunch.
Steakhouse Standards and Power Lunches
The menu mirrored the era’s definition of luxury dining. Guests ordered bacon-wrapped chopped sirloin, prime rib au jus and broiled lobster tail. The priciest option was chateaubriand for two, a full steak dinner with five vegetable sides priced at $14.50.
A mid-1960s financial report from Ballard’s archive described the Oak Room as “Providing the luxurious surroundings of a private club, the Oak Room is a popular gathering-place for business discussions over lunch, as well as evenings of informal fun.”
Royalty, Presidents and Jazz Legends
The guest list read like a diplomatic and entertainment directory. According to a 1980 Camarillo Star article, the Oak Room hosted “the king and queen of Nepal, an Iranian prince and princess,” and “Lord and Lady Chamberlain from England.”
Richard Nixon was a frequent visitor. Both Nixon and John F. Kennedy held campaign events at the club during their presidential race. Louis Armstrong held membership, while composer Hoagy Carmichael also passed through. One night, Armstrong and Benny Goodman launched an impromptu jam session that stretched four hours.
“Famous people enjoyed dining at the club because of its excellent food and privacy,” the Star reported. “Members and guests of the club were not the type ‘who would jump up and ask for autographs,’” said former manager Bill Kittle.
Many high-profile invitations came directly from Walt Disney himself, when he wasn’t hosting guests at his own informal in-park retreat, known as “Walt’s Hideout.”
The Spa That Set It Apart
Years before Club 33 opened in 1967, the Oak Room offered something Disneyland’s famed club never did: a private men’s spa.
The Oak Room Health Spa featured a sauna, hot tub and exercise facilities designed to restore executives after long days of travel or negotiation. An undated article from Disneyland Hotel Check-In, the hotel’s in-house magazine, spelled out the appeal.
“You’ve just arrived after a long trip,” the article read. “The kids and wife are all rested and ready to hit Disneyland for hours of fun and walking, but you did most of the driving and man alive, you’re half dead.”
“If this describes the current state of your health, here’s a helpful suggestion,” it continued. “Visit the Hotel’s Oak Room Health Spa for Men and renew your vim and vigor. Let the sauna and whirlpool ease those tired muscles. Depend on our expert masseur to remove the rest of the kinks.”
Why It Existed and Why It Faded
The membership model ended in 1970, though the restaurant remained open to the public for another decade. Compared to other defunct hotel landmarks, the Oak Room slipped quietly into obscurity. Online searches turn up little more than a few vintage matchbooks stamped “The Oak Room, a gentleman’s private club.”
Part of that disappearance stems from ownership history. The Disneyland Hotel was not originally owned by Disney. Jack and Bonita Wrather opened it in 1955, and the Wrather Corporation retained control until Disney purchased the property in 1988.
“The hotel featured conveniences that other hotels did not have,” Ballard said. “Television, even color television, pools, shops, restaurants, recreation facilities, and that’s not to mention it was right next door to the Magic Kingdom.”
“It was built to be an extension of your Disneyland experience,” he added.
Convention business played a major role. At a time when men often traveled alone for work, the hotel’s proximity to Disneyland made family attendance easier.
“It was the start of a new era where the businessman would bring his family to attend conventions,” Ballard said, “because while Dad was at the convention, Mom had the kids at Disneyland.”
A private men’s club likely helped seal those deals.
A Pattern in Disney History
The Oak Room wasn’t Disney’s first gender-segregated space. In the 1940s, the Burbank studio featured a tea room for women and the Penthouse Club for men, complete with barbers, spa services and nap beds.
The rooftop became infamous. In 1947, New York Magazine described it as a place “where male employees acquire an all-over tan.” According to the Disney History Institute, a former employee recalled, “We used to take nude sunbaths, on the roof of the Studio, on our lunch hours and ‘chew the fat.’”
The practice ended after nuns at a nearby hospital revealed they had a clear view.
The Final Curtain
Ballard’s research places the Oak Room’s closure in late 1983 or early 1984. Its space was absorbed by an expansion of Sgt. Preston’s Yukon Saloon. Restaurant Row disappeared entirely in 1999, making way for Downtown Disney.
Today, the former site sits beneath foot traffic and security checkpoints, a quiet ending for a club once defined by access, influence and discretion.
