Monday, October 10, 2011
I just want to take you back to simpler time.
A time when you didnt put your make up on til midnight.
A time when you could walk into a smoke filled red room and not be judged.
A time called STARFUCKERS.
Now back in the day (2008-2009) my friends and I used to congregate every Saturday (and for a period in time- Friday) at a little underground hole in the wall called Club 77.
We would light up cigarettes and sniff amyl on the dancefloor until the sun came up over the Westfields sign.
We thought we made friends there, and I legitimately did make friends there who I still talk to now, but most were vapid soulless creatures of the night.
Not to say I wasnt one of them, I was and I miss the empty space I had become.
We used to wait all week for Saturdays.
That was the night of the ravers, when the glitter pasties and gold eyelids would come out to play.
We flocked like vampires standing outside 78 debating with the security guards that we WERE waiting for our friends.
We all had dark smoked out eyeliner circling our inflamed and bursting pupils that would eventually run from the vigorous dancing that was forced from our bodies.
We spoke in another language and yet everyone understood what we were saying in the heavily graffitied walls of the back room.
Where we would stare at each other in acceptance of the fact that we were "just heaps surprised to be alive".
I had some of the most amazing nights of my life on William Street, with the rich beats from the likes of Mr. Disorder, Hookie, Trentertainment, Stu York, Andy & Yams. This is how far I am reaching back now.
I used to create my own theme in my head, one night it was A Clockwork Orange, the next would be provided by the creators of Starfuckers night like Navy Rave, Grave Rave or my personal favourite (and the one to fall on my 20th birthday in which I saw God) Terrorism Rave.
We kept our Thick As Thieves cd's close to our chest.
And for some reason believed that in some way, that club was a little bit ours as well.
It was the go to.
It was the one thing we all can reflect back on and bask in the pure decadence and overwhelming revelry that we were consumed by.
We were birthed as we walked out into the cold night air past Wayne the security guard, and that was how we felt as we stepped outside.
New, and unsure of what the outside world was going to hold for us.
I may be romanticising a time in quite a few people's lives because it is over for some of us.
But I will never say that I never loved that place. I am still in love with that place.
When everyone else had let me down, it was always there.
Holding my jacket behind the bar,
giving me advice in the porn laden toilets,
spotting me a light in the burgundy back room,
making me laugh at the graffiti,
supplying me with exercise and nutrition from the bar to the dancefloor.
I made a friend who was a mermaid (Beth)
I contemplated getting their telltale upside down triangle tattooed somewhere on my person.
I kicked on with the best of them.
I screamed and kicked when the lights came on.
I rediscovered Miley Cyrus in a way I had never thought I could before.
I pushed the boundaries of who I thought I was and how I thought I dressed, because I felt like I could be anyone or anything there.
I saw bands that are now famous there.
& I know this might not be the right thing to say,
or some of you may not agree with me,
or might think I am an absolute weirdo for even posting this,
But I think acknowledging a time in our lives where things happened and people changed, and people became friends is paramount.
Because I know I am not the only one who says, when a certain song comes on the car stereo,
"THIS REMINDS ME OF 77."
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
SONG TO PLAY IN THE OFFICE:
DOPE: Creep- TLC NOT: Somebody That I Used To Know- Gotye feat. Kimbra
DOPE: Aldi NOT: Coles
THING TO COMPLAIN ABOUT:
DOPE: What festival you can not afford to attend. NOT: The weather
DOPE: Halloween NOT: Mexico
DOPE: Teaching NOT: Communications
SUBURB TO LIVE IN SYDNEY:
DOPE: Darlinghurst (or Razorhurst) NOT: Bondi
DOPE: Being yelled at by a junkie NOT: Being yelled at by a taxi driver
VENUE ON THE CENTRAL COAST:
DOPE: Sirens NOT: The Beery
THING TO DO WHILE AT SAID VENUE:
DOPE: Yell at people. NOT: Beat up on people
HAIR DO FOR THE LADS:
DOPE: Whispy and long, think the late 70s. NOT: Shaved with long fringe
DOPE: MDMA NOT: Pingaz
DOPE: Rekorderlig NOT: Longnecks
DOPE: Saturday picnic NOT: Sunday session
SHADY THING TO DO:
DOPE: Pretend you dont have a boyfriend/girlfriend NOT: Pretending you have a holiday house in Avoca.
DOPE: Passive aggression NOT: Assertion
DOPE: Break up with your partner NOT: Shack up with a partner
DOPE: West Coast NOT: East Coast
LOTHARIO FROM THE ISLANDS:
DOPE: Shaggy NOT: Sean Paul
DOPE: Beyonce NOT: Octomom.
BEACH TO BAKE AT:
DOPE: Wamberal NOT: Avoca
DOPE: Sunny throughout the week, raining on the weekend. NOT: Blue skies always.
DOPE: QLD NOT: ACT
DOPE: John Travolta NOT: Kate Cebrano
ERA TO DRAW CLOTHING INSPIRATION FROM:
DOPE: 90s NOT: 70s
DOPE: Quinoa NOT: Pasta
DOPE: Acclaim NOT: Cosmopolitan
DOPE: No tie dye shirts, ripped jeans or fun. NOT: Good shoes
WAY TO READ A BLOG:
DOPE: Take everything literally and get personally offended NOT: Relax and take it
with just a hint of sarcasm.