Last Days of Decadence, Shoreditch.

When The Last Days of Decadence first opened I was impressed by the fact they asked some beautiful people such as the lovely Lawrence Gullo to adorn their opening. Sensible as the club's schtick is that it intends to recall the style and elegance of the past. The venue has made a visible attempt to revive this in their interior, utilising decorative glass, veneered walls and art deco flourishes. This is more successful upstairs where there is an element of ocean liner lounge about the place. Downstairs, (due no doubt to the exigencies of providing a stage, mc booth and dancefloor) is less atmospheric. I have been here a couple of times, and apart from problems dealing with serving drinks to crowds, always seemingly a set back in most newish venues, have always quite liked it. Last Saturday, along with Torquil Arbuthnot of The Chap, the ever-stylish Fleur de Guerre and her beau I dropped in on the venue's flagship night: 'Saturdays at the Last Days of Decadence'.

One of the venue's stained glass windows.

I did this with some trepidation. Not because of either the organiser who seems on the ball, nor due to the cabaret acts which have, I have noticed, been of a continually high quality. The thing I am always worried about is crowd control. This is because I possess a prejudice. I have come to dislike the typical Hoxton/Shoreditch/Bethnal Green type. Most are really young, so there is that unescapable problem: many but not all people under the age of 22 have nothing much of interest to say about anything. Then there is the 'look', it is just rubbish. That skinny jean, stoopid pork pie hat, poor attempt at a beehive ingenue geldof/chung/Lott look is really incredibly...boring. Oh, and then there is the general entitled boorishness and the poshness. So basically every sinew of this Londoner's body wants to scream 'back to the Home Counties Scumbags!' oh, and stop complimenting me on my 'costume', just because I know how to brush my hair. Can't tho..because then I am being rude. The problem is that this talentless demographic dominate the Easty areas (all the really fashionable are now in Peckham rumour has it, hmmm) and decadent style + Hoxtonite is an oxymoron. Someone had actually warned a chum off entering LDD (as I shall now call it) as the occupants would 'point and laugh' at him.

The upstairs bar at LDD.

Pleasantly, my fears were unfounded. I thought the crowd on this particualar night were polite and pleasant. Not all were dressed to the nines, which was a shame but Valentine's night shenanigans might have robbed to club of some of it's more flamboyant regulars. There was also that missapprehension that decadent retro = wrapping some type of ribbon or band around your head: flapper. But it is better than wondering around in in some crappy jeans and urban outfitter designed tea towel. Not good to be snobby but I can't help it however I thought a lot of the girls looked really sweet. I was also charmed to enter the place and find a pianist playing wonderfully, I was even happier to find that the first cocktail I received, a white lady, was well mixed. I also liked the proper table cloths and thought the door staff efficient and friendly, even though the group of girls in front of us seemed to be checking in all their worldly posessions! I suspect that they had changed in a toilet on the way.

Seating in the upstairs bar.

The downsides were small and not uncommon. The choice of music played was spot-on, very good selection of 20's/30's/40's ditties; but wayyyy too loud. Once you have to yell at your companions any effort to be suave, louche or stylish is damned to failure, unless you are stranded on a sinking ocean liner. But this may be down to my advanced years. I didn't venture downstairs for the cabaret as I was familiar with the line-up, a good one again. It seemed ,when I poked my head down for a look, very crowded and lively so nothing wrong there. Sadly the cocktails chopped and changed in quality and speed of delivery once the bar was under pressure; all cocktails from a bar should be the same. But they were not cheating on the alcohol content, and I know how hard it is to produce cocktails at speed. A couple of bar meetings and that could be sorted.

Stained glass windows from the street entrance.

I'd summarise the evening as a worthwhile expedition from the West End, I think it is probably, in fact, the only worthwhile Saturday entertainment in the area. If you are brave enough to march your quiff/cravat/evening dress/victory rolls/sublime drag past some of the groups of young scruffy men from Guildford looking for 'edge' outside the other bars it's certainly worth an expedition. The quibbles were small, and this is as pleasant a place, and a lot pleasanter than many in Soho to spend the weekend. I think it is better suited to a party night out with friends than assignations. And those stained glass windows are terribly pretty. So all in all a thumbs up for this night and the club in general.

Club recommendation: Chocks Hawaii.

If any of you are wondering what to do this coming Saturday those ladies over at The Fox Presents are having another of their excellent vintagey boogylicious nights in Old Street. Redlegs has been to two of these events and is saddened to miss this one. It's friendly, good value and stylish but not, as we say in Sarf London 'up itself'.

See here: http://www.thefoxpresents.com/boxoffice.htm

Pip! Pip!

Enchanted Ed Wood some photographs by Red Legs...

Halloween at the Fox...

A few choice pictures for Halloween, not naming names .. they know who they are! The Fox in Shoreditch looked suitably Autumnal. Full of bits of twig and leafiness, I had visions of Fleur heading to her local park wearing a burglar's mask and wielding seccateurs.  I was informed that the exuberant English country side adorning the window ledges was actually sourced from the...English countryside. There were also naturally jack-o-lanterns and other such things and the Tim Burton Ed Wood Biopic was shwing on the noctovision.  The bar staff looked very elegant in rather severe black cocktail dresses and the treats for early birds were absinthe toffee apples and jellies which I suspect were alcoholic. Well Torquil Arbuthnot was eating one despite the beard vs jelly dilemma.  The cocktails were themed but Red Legs stuck to cranberry juice, vodka and bubbly.

The vintagey crowd meant that there were rather a lot of spiv/40's and 50's stuff, the lindy hop crowd not being known for their imaginative approach to clothing. Exceptions included Lost Soul and his splendid fez, a rather convincing dead pin-up, some voodoo loungers of the old school and a gentleman of the steampunk persuasion who was doing beastly things to a stuffed rabbit. The rabbit got its own back in the loos when its tormentor had to negotiate the rabbit and a long apron in order to relieve himself. Not that I was in the gents loos...for once.

Music wise there was some traditional stuff at the beginning, Addams family theme and such like which is essential. The band, the Sax Pastilles played two storming sets but really orientated to the jivers and lindy-hoppers, and the energetic amongst those. I must admit though I really hankered for some Siouxsie and Sisters, is this the first Halloween I have had without hearing 'This Corrosion'?

The performances were popular, or rather sounded popular, the popularity of the event meant that unless you were quick you couldn't get into see the acts due to the enthusiastic crowd but it is a new club and the organisers will be able to gauge things really well next time. Didn't worry me in the least apart from missing Rose Thorne's performance, proper cabaret burlesque with dramatic verve and wit.  Naked ladies and tassels are a bit passe IMO, but cabaret never loses it's appeal. We did catch Emerald Fontaine walking on the bar with a snake.  The serpent in question seemed quite cheerful, but one of my friends was not so impressed, convinced that it had it's snakey eyes on her! and to be honest maybe it did.

All in all a good evening, made by the efforts of the stirling organisers but most of all by the friendliness of the crowd.  Pleasant clubbable people is the thing most hard to find at night in London.  People don't have to be uber stylish, trendy, every word an aphorism as long as they are pleasant and interesting and yes, just a bit insane.  The next event has a 'hula' theme so expect grass skirts and hawaii shirts to take over Shoreditch! 

Halloween

Red legs displays her continuing weakness for lurid nylon wigs, on another halloween, on another continent.

The Chap in the middle is donning the kind of outfit I would personally like to see on Saturday!

It seems that year by year Londons options for Halloween have improved, for years only the Goth subculture provided partys with style and panache. Indeed they still do, the London Vampyre Groups Christmas party at the Penderel Oak in Holborn will be a paradigmatic Goth Halloween party. The guests will be dressed to the nines, easy if you do it on a daily basis and with some elements of steam punk which seems to have replaced cyber fetish as the Goth splinter group du jour. Anything that encourages the donning of brass goggles can't be a bad thing. The music will also be superb. Sadly I cannot make it but details of the 'Silent Night-Rest in Pieces Party can be found at:http://www.londonvampyregroup.co.uk/

Returning to Halloween, Red Legs will be attending 'The Enchanted Wood Party' co-hosted by the redoubtable Fleur de Guerre, tickets are I suspect, as rare as a Vampire at a Beach party but details can be found here:http://www.thefoxpresents.com/ This is rather more appropriate for the vintage crew although yours truely will be going for the trashy approach, £8.99 nylon wig from Sainsburys, classy. We also have guest list places for Bungalow 8's do although I suspect the effort of getting from Shoreditch to St Martin's Lane will defeat us.

For those who have not lost the will to live after a night of apple-bobbing and chocolate bats, on Sunday the Glitter room will be happening at the Black Sheep pub in Croydon, details here:http://vonbourbon.com/blog/?p=3836. The champion of Chap Hop, Mr B the Gentleman Rymer will be playing so well worth a trip into deepest South London.

I am well aware that the likelihood is that no one will be reading this, but then again there is something about typing into nowhere, words dissapearing like ectoplasm....