Cake snaps at Twat Boutique, December 2nd

by Lemon Tart

It’s a funny thing, clubbing.

I remember spending millions of pennies of pocket money when I was a teen to go to clubs where you basically swam in sweat and urine, drank more expensive WKD than common decency should allow, and then forgot it all whilst burying your head in vinegar with chips on the side. Such is parochial life.

Or, in my late teens I was persuaded more than once to wager most of my earnings on foam parties (such a glorious modern invention), which usually resulted in a rash and a general gloomy view on life for days after.

Now, I can go to a lovely little club night in London called Twat Boutique, and drink a superb pint of cider whilst watching La Roux DJing and pretending like I don’t care, this isn’t 1000 times better than all those terrible, Red Square-infused youthful flounderings. Whilst watching everyone else around me look totally nonchalant about it too. PERFECT.

photos by Holly Falconer