Way Down to Chinatown

Not since Milk & Honey in New York and the Curio Parlour in Paris have I been able to find a decent place for a yummy, fruity, splashy, fabulous cocktail in London. It's just not that easy to come by. Paris has recently started up on the trend, while New York has been a pioneer of all things spirits and fancy alcoholic recipes for at least a decade now. But look no more, Zesties, the latest and trendiest cocktail bar in all of London has opened its doors in none other than London's Chinatown. The Experimental Cocktail Club London, known by all the Paris loyals as the ECC, is just a month old but is already buzzying with Central London's most fashionable and exquisite people.

One of the main problems with London, I find, is that most pubs and bars inconveniently close between 11 and midnight. And whether we're talking crowds, music or strict door policies, clubs over here- they just don't cut it. Who wants to pay £££ for memberships to places you end up showing up to only fortnightly, and £££ more extra to pay when the tab arrives in your lap, no less. Cocktail bars and lounges aren't really crowding the streets either. Okay so you've got the uber-fancy-old-man-take-a-call-girl-out Connaught Bar in Mayfair- though I can't say it's my weekly go-to option, considering the Euro-Posh customer base and the up-market cocktail prices. In a nutshell, for any wide-eyed and bushy-tailed London expat like myself, that's just not going to cut it.

 

So when I heard about the ECC's arrival in London last month, after reading rave reviews of its original namesake in Paris, I jumped at the opportunity to book a girls' night out. I was not disappointed. Deliciously decadent, creative and innovative cocktails, like the Spicy Old Cuban and the Experience, coupled with  luxurious velvet sofas and gorgeous crowds in a cozy and romantic speak-easy room make for a delightful and unforgettable evening. No membership. No queues at the door. No maxed-out credit cards. Who could ask for more?

The Experimentail Cocktail Club

13A Gerrard Street

W1D 5PS

En Français, Paradis Means Heaven

If you are a devoted fan of Vanessa's as much as I am; if you've collected all of her albums, and hummed Joe le Taxi, Divinidylle and Sunday Mondays all throughout your teens, and if you've watched her appear in gorgeous Chanel ads and stunning campaigns for years on end, then you'll be delighted to know! Honey-voiced French Pop Princess, actress, fashion icon, face of Chanel and envied wife of Johnny Depp,Vanessa Paradis is popping into town for a once in a lifetime performance of her greatest hits EVER at Koko London in Camden!

Rush now to get tickets as they are selling fast! 

Be ready for a bewitching evening on February 2nd at 7pm at:

Koko London

1a Camden High Street
London NW1 7JE
0870 432 5527

On Those Summer Nights

It's not that I'm a night junkie and that I'm one of the those girls who's out on the town every night. I'm not one to party hardy. Not at all. On the contrary, I've been much more of a homebody since living in London than I've ever been; and that has suited me somewhat. Perhaps because I'm a little older and I've been there. You know, done that. Perhaps because recuperating from a rough night is not as easy as it used to be. You feel me? I'm not so keen on those Sunday hangovers anymore, especially when they have the tendency to drag on through to the following Wednesday. I'm also not so keen on waiting in a queue to enter a members' club-only-"hotspot" just so I can say I "got in" and end up coming right out one hour later. These places are, might I say, a little too tired for my taste. I guess I've become a bit of a nightlife snob. Not because I like it posh, but because I like it comfortable and easy. But wait a minute, is that really too hard to ask?

Last weekend was my first encounter with real London nightlife. I know, sad. Forget about the Boujis', the Maddoxes and the Cuckoos of the world. The Paradise in Kilburn is where it all happens. It's the hidden treasure of London nightlife. Don't be fooled by its fanciful name, The Paradise is not a gentleman's club and it's not where your Granny plays Bingo. The Paradise is the real Londoner's night piece of heaven. Though decadent by nature, with its sexy crowds, hanging taxidermy and velvety sofas, The Paradise is nothing but an old-school place for a fun-filled night out with friends. 

Competing at the same level as the high and mighty Shoreditch scene, Kilburn's night gem is the latest hot place to be seen at. With the best DJs in the West part of London playing 80s retro hits and 90s funky tunes, several floors to discover, a delicious gastropub serving some classics with a twist and two outdoor gardens, you won't find a better venue to enjoy those endless summer nights.

A Member's Club for Non-Members

If you've ever had a the pleasure of dining at the Oak in Notting Hill and tasting one of the best truffle pizzas in all of London, then you've probably made it upstairs to their super duper exclusive-looking lounge, with its super duper non-exclusive door policy.

Upstairs at the Oak looks like my non-existent rich aunty's uber-luxurious Chelsea mansion-style living room, which for some strange reason ended up on the top floor of a pizza restaurant. Last night, I had the pleasure of taking a friend there for a warm and cozy glass of Sangiovese, some split pea puree with flatbreads and roasted aubergine tapas on the side. After far too many glasses of wine and far too much conversation, we both realized that the lights had come on and it was time to go home. I always hated being that last person at a bar or a party - it always makes me feel like a bit of a loser (moi, loseuhr?). So needless to say, we were having a good time.

And a good time it was. Sitting way too comfortably on an velvety sofa, occasionally staring at an old blurry (or was that just my eyesight gone awry) painting of some unknown white-haired/white-bearded 18th century nobleman, hiccupping through 3 glasses of wine and munching away on some delicious home-cooked style Italian tapas, we forgot to leave. 
Personal note #1: get the hint - if you're still lounging around at a bar when the lights go on, you've probably overstayed your presence. Personal note #2: get the hint - if you're still sipping on wine when the lights go on, you'll probably feel as flimsy as I do today. Personal note #3: Have a great day, zesties!

Rock-a-Billy Fever at The Bathhouse

This tendency of mine to stay home and watch movies instead of hitting the town and being naughty has really taken its toll on my blog entries on London's exciting nightlife, or lack there of. Not to mention, my youth. These past couple of months, instead, have been used more for restful and lazy popcorn movie nights and have, as a result, triggered a disconcerting feeling of being completely disconnected with everything that happens post 11pm in London. All of a sudden I find myself being completely at a loss for words when it comes to advising my friends and visitors on cool spots to check out on Thursdays and Friday nights in the city. This cannot happen! I am now a London blogger, and this cannot happen!

I was going to have to change my ways. It was Saturday night, I was going to change my ways. I was going to put on my party dress. That was decided. I was going to kick up my heels and rouge my lips. Pick up a bandanna from my costume and dress up drawer.  Perk up that ponytail. Fluff up that front fringe. Don't go easy on the hairspray. Spray it on. Spray it on real good. Spray it on like there's no tomorrow. Hairspray holds everything together I find, especially when it  comes to my sanity. Yes I'm going out. I'm tying a bandanna around my neck and picking up those giant hoop earrings from my long lost jewelry box. I put on the highest waisted jeans I've got, and belt them high, with a big fat purple belt. I button up that short sleeved white shirt and tuck it in tight. I pirk up that collar too. Then I slip into my cool black motorcycle jacket and I'm ready to go. 

(Just kidding, I wish that was me!)

It's Rock-a-Billy night at the Bathhouse on Bishopsgate in Shoreditch and it is time to do that twist tonight. Yeah, Baby! This place is a real treasure. It is an old historical venue, with a crazy combination of Turkish bath-ness and Victorian-ness. Weird. But so so cool. The dance floor is crowded and filled with East London's coolest alternative youngsters who come for the "drinking, dancing and romancing". It is a weird weird place. You can even find a DJ rockin and rollin it in his birdcage DJ booth. The Rock-a-Billy fever (every Saturday at the Bathhouse) is vibrant and taking over our bodies and inhibitions. We dance to Grease, Dirty Dancing and Elvis. We dance, we laugh, we are alive again. Yes!

The Bathhouse, Bishopsgate, Shoreditch

The Birdcage DJ Booth at the Bathhouse