The New Days of Decadence

Speakeasies in London

Ironic Probation-era revivalism or newfound solace and splendour amidst the chaos of the city? Probably a mixture of the above, but if you’re tired of frequenting the typically overcrowded ex-bank/pub office droid sweat pits that permeate the streets of London, then try a ‘speakeasy’.

I know what you’re thinking, but you’re wrong. They aren’t packed to the nines with Goldsmiths students and you don’t have to battle with the typically bric-a-brac nature of Tower Hamlets; Londoners can enjoy a geographically varied number of said watering holes.

Try Barts in South Kensington, for instance: Through an unmarked door in one of the most indulgently fancified millionaire clusters in the West End, Chelsea Cloisters, a small entrance hall littered with corrupted Disney memorabilia marks the entrance to the bar. A quick peek through a slat in the door from the barperson donning catering chic a la 1920s high-brow America and you’re in a room filled with average Joes and Janes enjoying one of secret London’s most rewarding masked frivolities.

Then there’s Soho’s Milk and Honey. An experience awaits those trying to locate its entrance, but its blackly exterior instantly sets the tone. Arrive before five, manage to find and (what feels like) sneak into the lobby and no reserve booking is needed. Interiorly the relaxed, almost anally cool cove like bar is multi-faceted and in no way parallels the hostility of its fool-proof entrée. Again, people of any ilk socialise and the ambience is again unassuming. Bourne and Hollingsworth is another consistency, and its basement dwellings just off the hustle of Oxford Street offer another affordable culture portal.

Tom Foulser, general manager at Barts, offered me musings on why London is a vacuum for establishments that combine modern living with quirky, historically referential concept-zones: ‘I think its success stems from a mixture of elements, but in the main people, especially Londoners who moved here for its quirky individualism, love something a bit different, and a bit challenging.’ He agrees that word-of-mouth is as important as any marketing tool in the capital: ‘The stuff spreads like wildfire, and people will flock accordingly. Word-of-mouth is powerful in London and a valuable commodity. We offer an affordable luxury that doesn’t require prior membership or any celebrity status. It’s just a great deal of fun.’

It’s not just the bar scene that has been struck by the bolt of faux police dodging beery theatrics, similar themed restaurants have also germinated around the capital. Through at unmarked door on an uninhibited side-street in Brixton, a buzzer system leads you into ’Upstairs’, a noirish restaurant offering minimalism in menu selection and the paradoxical experience of feeling like you are in a Humphrey Bogart film when you are in fact in a slum-ish three storey townhouse conversion in south-of-the-rivers-ville.

Tellingly, Shoreditch High Street is now home to its own slice of the pie, amongst others. The Last Days of Decadence is another veiled, tiny gem amidst the often artistically showy nature of the area. Jake Evans, its manager, claims London, and perhaps more specifically the east end, has always had a fascination with history and the combination of the inaccessibility and rebellious sentiments of speakeasies make for an exciting, rounded experience for locallers: ‘London is such a cultural melting pot, but has always romanticized its history. Our Saturday nights offer hugely over-the-top theatrical fun, with burlesque and bygone-era aesthetics. There’re so many nights in London that don’t stick to a consistent theme and come across as messy and shambolic. We simply provide an alternative to this.’

For all the flashy and accessible aspects of London’s nightlife industry, it is surely refreshing to find havens of culture unperturbed by a waning economy, fashion droids and one-minute-wonder acts. Upstairs is celebrating five successful years in fruition, and seems to be one of the very first of its type to revive such a bizarre and decadent theme. A flash in the pan this is not, but it might be an idea to explore this mini-explosion before everyone and his dog wants a piece of the action, and don’t tell anyone I told you…