My name is Ellie Hutchinson and I love local clubs. I love them so much I’ve been scouring tumblr for days, if not weeks, hoping to find one in relation to them. I love them so much whenever I go to another British town, I always want to know where the hot spot is. I love them so much here is a pseudo-haiku.
If you were alive
You’d be made of Charlie red
And bodily fluid
I love their particular mix of so very local, yet so very British. I love the rituals that go into going to your local club- the own brand vodka before hand, the hours getting ready, and the terrible neon drinks you pay a tenner for. I love the local club dilemma of either paying to put your coat away or risk your £30 Miss Selfridge coat on the sticky, revolving floor. I love how random they are- there was one in my home town where you got a panini on entry.
Make no mistake, I know local clubs are quite gross-they’re normally dirty, sweaty and full of creepy men, and would I go in one now? Good God no- but I adore them.
I was in Aberdeen (which even Danny Dyer- aka Britain’s toughest cockney- thinks is ‘tatters’ ,and his skin is made of chimney sweeps and jellied eels*) last winter and I saw a group making their way to one such place. They were all clattering heels and chattering bones, uniform short sleeves and shiny shoes. In sum, they were FREEZING. But let me tell you, they were having a whale of a time. Yes, you may judge their fake tans and terrible tattoos, but they were having the time of their lives. This is always nice to see.
Another reason that I love local clubs is the names. Who comes up with them? This is a genuine question. Is there a board in charge of this? Can I join it? Have secret deals been made in the corridors of Whitehall? Or the VATICAN?
Local club names are uniformly bad and slightly 80s. Which, of course, makes them hilarious (even though it’s fictional, Pump Palace is still one of my faves). There’s Word up in Greenock, the Bizz (now Club Chemistry) in Canterbury, Jumpin Jak’s in Aberdeen and Hush Hush in Lowestoft. They all sound like somewhere Bruce Willis would meet Whoopi Goldberg in an 80’s film about Russians and computers.
In honour of local clubs, I’m now going to rename my flat “Club Cool Fun”. Drinks will be 2 for 1 on Wednesday and we’ll have the obligatory Sunday hangover set with the local wind-down DJ. We’ll listen to Sade and sip our shandies, all the while watching the bouncers mop up. Lovely.
*You can see Danny describe Aberdeen in his own special way here Just skip past the hooligans to 7.20.