Singapore - Got $32,000 to spare?

If you have a stack of platinum credit cards burning a hole in your back pocket, it will buy you the grand total of one drink at the bar.

But then again, this is not just any bar.

To many, it is THE bar to be seen at, especially if you belong to a caste where your first name is all that is needed for others to recognise your pedigree.

Eduardo, Kobe, Shakira... Yup, the very same.

Pangaea, the ultra-exclusive lounge that has been billed as the world's most expensive club, has played host to everyone from Facebook tycoons to basketball superstars to Latin pop queens.

Technically, you don't have to be one of the above to get in. It helps, but so does having a bank account that won't implode after you drop up to $15,000 to book a table.

First-time visitors would probably find Pangaea, located in the basement on the western side of Marina Bay Sands (MBS), daunting. It's a Saturday night on my first visit to the club.

The clientele is as varied as they come. Well-dressed young men and women and not-so-well-dressed middle-aged types and try-hards, along with a bevy of beautiful models squeezed into the tiniest of dresses, brave the notoriously strict door policy.

Sure, the cover charge is a mere $40, but having that cash is barely enough to get the bouncer's attention, let alone his permission to saunter past the velvet ropes.

But as I learn, as long as you are reasonably well-dressed - I'm here wearing my best shoes, a T-shirt and jeans topped off with a blazer - you'll get waved in.

For a relatively small club - at nearly 7,000 sq ft - it's designed to impress. Think plush crocodile-skinned sofas with cushions covered in animal skins. Walls are also lined with African masks from the personal collection of founder Michael Ault.

There are no dance floors here, just sofas and tables where bottles of Belvedere vodka, Cristal and Dom Perignon champagnes jostle for space with buckets of ice and dozens of glasses.

It's more safari-meets-an-airport-lounge than a nightclub, but the decor immediately screams "bling".

As you enter, you pass a team of bouncers built like boxers and dressed in crisp suits.

You then walk through a long tunnel with blue ultraviolet lights. An elevator ride later, you find yourself inside one of the world's most exclusive parties, where clubbers pay top dollar to be treated like royalty.

Inside, they are greeted by throbbing music and a drinks menu that - I can only assume - is ever-so-slightly wider than those at regular clubs, so as to accommodate the number of extra zeros in the price column.

Still, Pangaea, which can host just over 400 guests, is just as welcoming to Average Joes like myself.

You know, the type who'd rather sit by the bar with a few glasses and watch the action unfold.

And if watching is your game, then Pangaea is the perfect place to do it. It is a full house and everyone is out to impress.

Men clap along as beautiful women dance on tables, pounding their fists and raising their arms to a series of build-ups and the "boom boom boom" of the electronic music played by the DJ.

"You get everyone from rich kids, actors to Malaysian royalty and businessmen coming here," one clubber tells me as we share a drink by the bar around midnight.

"However, they are discreet about it because they don't want to attract attention to themselves," adds the immaculately dressed lass, who introduces herself as Alice.

The 28-year-old tells me she visits Pangaea "every weekend", sometimes spending $1,000 on bottles of champagne and vodka.

It is an intriguing thought, being anonymous in one of the most exclusive party venues in Singapore - nay, the world.

But as Alice says, this lounge is one place where the rich can splurge without feeling guilty.

Another patron chimes in that places like Pangaea exist because the socialites in designer togs don't want to rub up against the kids in their sneakers and jeans at regular clubs.

"The people who spend time here have no limits and they pay a lot for the top-notch attention Pangaea offers," adds Alice.

It may sound like snobbery, but it makes sense.

Just like the hip kids who call Zouk in Jiak Kim Street home, the rich and mature also want their own - albeit more exclusive - space for their own parties.

And in this space, the monied customers have no problems spending.

A table in the Dragon Den goes for a minimum spend of $15,000.

Decorated with golden python skin, it's a slightly elevated area near the DJ booth that ensures the night's excesses can be seen. Alice says: "I've seen people give their friends their credit cards and say 'Just spend'."

The bill for that particular round of drinks came to about $20,000, she claims. That sort of revelation made me feel bad for the measly $20 I spent on two soft drinks.

Even though I'm no big spender, I don't feel excluded.

In fact, the service staff is exceptionally friendly, as if they were determined that I - a positive cheapskate by CEO standards - should still enjoy my night out there.

Observers have said that Pangaea takes the extravagant party culture to another level, a reputation reinforced in a recent article in the Wall Street Journal's wealth magazine, which said that clubbers here have "one common language, the language of excess - all too shamelessly displayed in (this) club".

But to regulars like Mr Robinson Go, the club's atmosphere is very much like a "house party", albeit one where there are strict rules on photography, presumably to protect the privacy of guests who do not want their excesses documented.

"I won't deny it is expensive to get in, to book a table it costs over $2,000," says the 25-year-old civil engineer.

"But people come here because everyone here is like family. It's a close-knit and friendly group," he adds.

Alice agrees. "I have never seen people fight here and even famous people, like (Facebook co-founder) Eduardo Saverin, who is a regular, don't even sit behind velvet ropes when they party," she says.

As we speak by the bar, a group of leggy servers wearing inky-blue dresses designed by home-grown designer Ashley Isham walk by parading "champagne sparklers" - bottles of Dom Perignon champagne affixed with handheld fireworks spewing coloured flames.

Each bottle costs $600, I'm told.

I had to point out the irony: It's hard to not draw attention to yourself when fiery sparklers are attached to your bottles.

"But that's just a gimmick, to make the customers feel special," Alice counters.

What about the infamous $32,000 cocktail, dubbed The Jewel of Pangaea, which contains gold flakes and a one-carat diamond as garnishing?

"I've never tried it but then again, my limit for drinks is $1,000," she says.

"Personally, that's a lot of money to spend on a glass and I wouldn't spend that much for a cocktail.

"I've never even seen anyone order a glass, but if anyone had $32,000 to spare, then why not try it?" she says with a smile.

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