But last night I went out for a few drinks with the boy and my uni buddy Timmy, and we ended up at the Experimental Cocktail Club in Chinatown. It was one of the bizarrest, most rabbit-hole-y bar experiences I've ever had - its on Gerrard Street, a street with all the numbers so ridiculously intertwined that no. 13 took an age to eventually track down in the 30s, a plain scruffy unmarked purplish door wedged between chinese restaurants. After being appraised by the doorman we were let in, where we entered some kind of time warped Shanghai opium den/speakeasy.
|i made James take this (fairly boss-eyed and awkward) photo of me drinking my cocktail ("La Medicacion"), even though he was cringing at the massive uncoolness of getting out a camera|
All the cocktails had ingredients like Himalayan purple salt and Mezcal and Pernod absinthe. Timmy got drunk off about a sip of hers, and James said his tasted "like libraries". All the staff had class moustaches, and there was an amazing jazz girl group doing covers upstairs. There were gold-leaf & silk wall hangings and mirrored ceilings and a piano built into the bar!
|teapots and flamingos in the ladies|
Okay, enough obsessing over decor. Basically, go there if you're ever in the area, cuz it's cool.
Also, now I really have the urge to float around in jewel-coloured silk 1940s dresses with an elaborate updo and a cigarette holder, drinking singapore slings and stabbing people in the back. Yeah thanks film noir.