In 1985, unemployment was still soaring, miners were striking and the Rubik’s Cube craze was finally on the wane. But, despite the dismal state of the economy, clubbing had never been so lucrative. Beneath the permed surface of Thatcher’s Britain was a sticky underbelly of clubs, raves and “nights”; those without “the knowledge” or the right shoes were not allowed in.
After the curtains were drawn and families gathered round the TV, young thrill-seekers were getting ready to go out - but “there is always that slight doubt, which can turn to despair by two o’clock in the morning: is someone, somewhere having more fun than you?”
The New Romantics had burst on to the scene in the late 70s, demanding a space of their own in which to dance and show off their finery. By 1981, they’d created Club for Heroes and Camden Palace, which kick-started a trend towards clubs for particular groups of people and styles. In 1985, niche clubs had sprung up everywhere. These were some of your options:
Straight: The straight-shooters were not known for their dress sense and preferred a night down the local disco. “Most towns have a Mecca-type disco for the middle-of-the-road dresser with a taste in wallpaper music, and there are also flashier straight clubs which provide lasers and cocktails as background to the Saturday night mating ritual.”
Hip: The weirdos and the hipsters preferred something smaller, grittier and usually nearer the Watford gap. “True hippery can be carried out anywhere, and there is a universal growth in smaller, dingier venues with a committed weirdo clientele.”
These two animals rarely mixed, however, mostly on account of strict “anti-stiff” policies at hipper venues. According to Dave the doorman at the Garage in Nottingham: “You’ve just got to look at the shoes, if they’ve got those silly white shoes on, don’t let them in.”
