This is what I want to do:
I want to combine all the best parts of this city's nightlife, and squash them all together, so that what you get is the comfortable, non-intimidating vibe of an Oirish pub, with stylish patrons in extremely good shoes who want to dance and dance and flirt and dance and flirt and send over drinks and actually talk.
See, here's the thing. You know those places that are overflowing with the 'beautiful people'? The ones that have all the glamour and VIP feel of Studio 54 circa 19seventysomething?
Yeah, I love that stuff - in theory. Because, the fact of the matter is this: While I enjoy glamming it up a bit, with shimmery fabrics and truly excellent accessories, and while I love the prospect of sipping expensive beverages and making witty conversation with upwardly mobile urban professionals, this phenomenon rarely, if ever, happens. Because, poppets, (you didn't really think I was going to give poppets up, did you?) I always have an utterly craptastic time.
Consider the guests. All the women are blond and trophy-like, with obvious lip liner and pink gloss. They've got vacuous expressions and seem to all vaguely resemble Tara Reid. They look - and this is truly cringe-worthy - but they all look the same.
The gentlemen are wearing one of the five types of shirts apparently allowed in the place. There is no deviance from the program. The only way to tell one from the other is by their ear piercings. Left or right? Cartilage? Names and conversations are not distinguishing features, people. Not when the bass is thumping and my ears are broken and he could be telling me that he's a white supremacist for all that we're actually able to converse. Y'know?
And I always seem to be wearing too much clothing! I hate that! My Girls could be spilling out into your drink, and I'm still wearing more fabric than anyone else in the place! And we're not just talking dress size here either, people, because there are entirely too many examples of What Not To Wear walking around out there. (Don't look at me like that. I'm not a sizeist. Is 'Wear Your Size" such a difficult concept to grasp? But I digress.)
Ohh, ohh to find a place that I belong. Because while I love love love the vibes of dingy bars and woody pubs, everybody likes to keep their cards close to their chests in places like that. And that's no fun! Especially since they're all in jeans and trainers.
Oh, if only there was place that existed that welcomed individuality and decoration. (And don't even get me started on the joints that say they do, because then you go inside and everyone is scary and pierced and wearing fifties tulle with leather corsets.)
I don't want to be drastically different, you know, because if you're drastically different, then you're just another kind of same. But I want to be somewhere that sounds like a room full of wind chimes... all the sounds are different, but they all work well together, you know? No look-alikes allowed! Every size, every shape welcome. Dress in your idea of pretty, because going out on a Saturday night should welcome a sense of decoration. Let Mr. DJ play the best of every genre out there. Why must the most expensive spot in the city be limited to your average 19-year old's playlist?
I'm just frustrated, I suppose. It's been a long time since I shook what my mamma gave me, and I hate the idea of having to do it a la Urban Pro Forma.
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