The Candlelight Club.

Last Saturday myself and an assortment of London vintage types descended on the inaugural night of the Candlelight Club, a new monthly event held in a 'secret' location. On this occasion it was in Islington, a mere spit away from the venerable Slimelight. It's intention is to recreate something of the atmosphere of a 'speakeasy'. The venue was satisfyingly subterranean and indeed entirely candlelit. Although we did not have the frisson of potential raids by liquor searching agents there was always the risk of some young lady in a gauzy outfit going up in flames. The crowd were an amalgam of the retro-interested and familiar faces. A free drink was provided on entry and sandwiches sat in sturdy piles on the tables.

Torquil with David of the Institute for Alcoholic Experimentation  at the beginning of the evening.

Fruity sweatin' at the decks.

Music was provided by Fruity Hatfield Peverill, who gallantly resisted punching me when I requested Britney Spears and instead provided a steady aural cornucopia of 20's/30's and 40's tunes.  Vicky Butterfly danced, bringing the pretty, twinkly and downright glamorous quality that her performances possess to the evening.

Naomi of Vintage Secret and Jenny with their wine stock.

It was a very mingly night, there were whilst I was there enough seats for people but this involved table hopping, mixing with strangers and sandwich nabbing which was conducive with talking to people. The thing was more atmospheric than my pictures inferr as I have a brand new camera and did not realise just how ferocious the flash was.  I may have blinded a few people! Next time I will use the setting for photographing people rather than mountains in the night!

Miss Fleur de Guerre's guilty secret: the possession of jeggings!

Red legs fondling Lisa's gloves...

I wore a rather peculiar dress, I think of it as my 'Frankenfrock' and think that it is the result of years of careful make do and mend and was probably someone's gran's funeral frock.  The torso is definitely 1930's and some skillful beadwork in very good condition makes me think it might have been a tad difficult to produce. I think the lace on the sleeves was added in the forties out of an odd piece, there are different pieces of cheaper more modern lace at the cuffs, I suspect to lengthen the sleeves. With it's high neck and rather severe shape it has that Miss Danvers look that I am quite fond of. My hair was in it's default setting for when the rollers don't do what they should, and the weather is damp which is an early 30's updo.  

We left fairly early and it was still buzzing, I suspect there may have been outbreaks of dancing and was sad to miss Vicky's second performance. We saw a crowd of white/black tie miscreants bundling in as we left and later heard rumours that the 'vintage mafia' had kidnapped some poor chap and bundled him off to East London (whatever next, snoods left in beds?..). The God of new events: 'shitwillhappenus' mean't a last minute change of venue and one missing barman. However I liked the venue and booze was served (although sadly I couldn't drink much). This was a very creditable effort to create an intimate supper clubby night and I enjoyed it. The organisers plan more and you can keep an eye on their plans here.

Minn x