On Friday night, Nick and I went to what is rated as one of the top clubs in the world, Fabric. Since I purchased the tickets super cheap through Boston University’s program coordinators, we got to be on a super cool guest list that let us skip the line. Now, we went at 11 pm, so there was no line anyway, but we’re both too old to start our nights at 1 am.
I don’t own clubbing clothes, but I didn’t want to ruin any of the nice clothes I brought (they’re particularly valuable to me since I only brought one suitcase out of which to live for almost 4 months). I ventured to H&M Friday morning and the salesperson gave me an education in London clubbing attire. I ignored everything she said – she actually suggested I wear a sheep-like vest that much resembled a cross between a British sheep and Chewbaca from Starwars – but the education was nonetheless eye opening. The bizarre crop tops, metallic leggings and sneaker heels were a little too authentically British for me, so I picked a very cheap dress off the sale rack and hung the Sheep/Chewbaca suit back up.
Before Nick and I left for the club, Michael, the program coordinator for BU, warned me that though he highly encouraged American students to try a real British club, the clubs here (especially Fabric) were going to be far more rambunctious and unpredictable than those in the States. He advised us to be very careful while ordering drinks and to stick together. On top of the club scene, the London tube shuts down at 12:30, so clubbers have to take London’s infamous night buses to get home.
As I said, we arrived around 11 pm with the resolve that we wouldn’t order any drinks at the club. Neither of us are really into drinking anyway, but it didn’t help that drinks at clubs here are often 10 pounds or up ($15+!). We had a super awkward moment when I excitedly told the club bouncer that I was on the guestlist with a plus one, and then got promptly refused. Yep, I thought, I would get rejected the first and only time I try to go to a real club. We stood on the side of the street at a loss for what to do for a minute – Fabric is in the middle of a kinda scary looking warehouse district – before a club manager came over to confirm we really were on the guest list. Once inside, we found the first of three rooms, each with a separate DJ and music style. The dance floor was wired to the bass of the music so that you could feel the music through your shoes. Room #1 also had an awesome light show: (You can see people fist pumping. No comment.)
Though the dance floor was sparse when we arrived, we felt super cool for starting the night’s dancing off, because as soon as we got out there (having no shame as Americans), others joined us. If you’re curious what a British club sounds like, this was the DJ that played around midnight in one of the rooms:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A_2dijMc-YY
We checked out the other two rooms, but one was insanely tiny, and the other had these obnoxious strobe lights and creepy Euro-clubber types, so we spent most of our night in the first room with the light show and vibrating floor. Contrary to what Michael and other Londoners had told us, we felt safe the whole night – they have a plethora of staff with flashlights that are quick to investigate any shady people or incidents. As an American, when I think of an “unsafe” or precarious place, I think of a place where I might be physically harmed. Apparently, as my professor explained last week, Londoners have such a low violent crime rate that they are much more concerned with theft and other such crimes. When coming into Fabric, we of course went through the standard metal detectors, but we each went through a pat down upon entrance AND exit almost exclusively to prevent phone theft. There were signs all over the club not for personal safety but to prevent phone theft. Needless to say, we found the actual clubbing experience much tamer than its reputation.
We left the club having had an excellent time around 1:30 am and embarked upon the real adventure – London at night via night bus. London, which much resembles any major world city in the daytime, is downright strange at night. I didn’t enjoy walking through London at 1:30 in the morning; there were people in costumes, wearing chains, others very high on drugs, and some people with just some inexplicable behaviour. Remember those Night Buses from Harry Potter with the seedy figures and out of control driving? Well, J.K. Rowling wasn’t being so creative as she was accurately describing London’s night buses. We found the night bus patrons were very much a sampling of the strangest people London has to offer. Through the bus windows we saw droves of people pub hopping in various states of drunkenness, and some who looked like they had just woken up and were starting their day in the somehow simultaneously (purposefully) torn and fluffy clubbing clothes that are popular here.
I didn’t get to bed until 3 am, which is about 5 hours past my bedtime. But we had such a good time I’d be quick to go back. Not drinking (and wearing flats) contributed vastly to the success of the night, as did going a bit earlier than I suspect the rougher crowds do. As literally dozens of people around us were taking club selfies, we followed suit for an as authentic experience as possible:
Though I’m still not sure what is accomplished with these…. I guess proof that I really did survive my first real clubbing experience?
Adventures in the UK! 