I did something very out of character on Thursday night. It was something that I have only done a handful of times over the last 5 years. I went to a nightclub!
In all honesty, Supperclub is actually a halfway house between a restaurant and a nightclub. As I was approaching the address I doubted I was in the right place; the club is housed in a dark, flat-fronted building under the A40 overpass near Westbourne Park next to a skater park. Not really the glamorous location I expected for a club with a Nottinghill postcode. I met Bee outside and we were invited into the reception, ticked off the guest list and given stickers with our table number. The small, blood-red bar on the other side was full of couples and sedate groups of friends drinking cocktails and winding down after work. The room slowly filled to capacity and just as it was starting to feel like Bank tube station at rush hour, a wall was pushed aside to reveal a vast space, glowing ice blue. An attractive Spaniard introduced himself as Al and took us upstairs to bed… That’s really true! Beds line the walls of the club so the shoes that I had carefully chosen to complete my outfit had to be left to one side. Lounging in bed with a glass of champagne is true decadence. The food was served taster menu style over four courses: risotto, hot and sour soup and goats’ cheese tart. Bee and I scrunched up our faces when we saw the dessert: a cross between pannacotta and cheesecake with a syringe full of pomegranate puree to squeeze on top!
Between courses, we were entertained with performance art acts. When a girl strutted past our bed into the dressing room, Bee thoughtfully pointed out that she was probably a performer as she had a line of diamante gems instead of eyebrows! She re-emerged half an hour later coloured from head to toe in gold glitter body paint. A light show picked out the sparkle as she shimmied among the crowd. In the grand finale, she poured water from a watering can over her breasts and let the glitter wash onto the floor.
As the night neared an end, I found a downside to beds in clubs. I was tipsy and lounging about with a full tummy; I could have easily turned the music down and fallen asleep. Instead, I had to rouse myself, put on my coat and shoes and plod off through the rain to catch the 31 bus home.
12 Acklam Rd, W10 5QZ
Nearest tube: Westbourne Park