East London at night makes me feel uneasy. I am not really sure why but I imagine it’s because it doesn’t make me feel too great about myself (which is a NIGHTMARE being a Leo and all) I tend to feel
a) Vulnerable. Well, I am MILES away from home! I try to get the last tube (but unfortunately a pre midnight departure is not something I’m great at – never really nailed that Cinderella trick) As a result, I basically have to surrender to a million pound taxi or a night chilling with crack heads on 16 different buses. I guess there is always the option of going home with some Hoxtonite, but unfortunately I am all talk and no pork, and one night stands don’t really float my boat….
b) Really uncool. Despite looking identical to each other, everyone in East London is SO individual. Trendy haircuts, Dr Martins, IPhones, skinny jeans, skinny rizzlas and tobacco… and wham –‘Excuse me – I am looking for a goose down duvet’ – oh sorry that’s just me in peter jones, in a twin suit and pearl earrings. I can see them looking at me out of the sides of their black rimmed, trendy glasses. They think I’m jerk rather than quirk. And I HATE that.
Before you brand me as a Hoxton hater, I am not. I LOVE the days in East London, gallivanting in London Fields, munching a bagel on Brick Lane. I worked in Shoreditch for a year and adored it. It’s just night time – it freaks me out…
Anyway enough of that! Back to the point – trannies and horseradish…
It was recently my boyfriend’s birthday so I decided to face my fears and take him to a much talked about pop up restaurant – the Pale Blue Door in Dalston. £35 per head went into Tony‘s account and before I knew it I was dragging my bloke on the overground.
Walking in, past a charming gypsy caravan, we were immediately gobsmacked by this incredibly low ceilinged and bizarrely decorated house. A tranny greeted us and a bottle of wine was planted on our table for two.
The tranny sung Whitney and 80s disco and I had a potter about, ending up in a very ‘lived in’ bathroom. Really it was less of a potter and more of a duck. All in all, a bit like being in The Burrowers – with a transsexual.
The food arrived and if I’m honest – I had been worried. The house was so crammed with junk, the possibility of squeezing in a functioning kitchen seemed unlikely. But it was yummy! Roast beef, creamy horseradish, potatoes and veg. Followed by a hell of a crumble.
The tranny performed some more and lap danced on my bloke (birthday dance apparently!). We then got chatting to the Spanish staff whilst puffing on the street, we discussed their pop up time at Glastonbury and how manic some nights can be (their beds are turned into tables and their pillows chairs!)
It was a weekday, so we decided to call it a night and run for the last tube but apparently you are more than welcome to party through the night. Sorry Tony, get that pale blue door popping up in Shepherds Bush and you’ll find me snorting a line of horseradish off the trannies plastic boobs but as long as it’s popping up in Dalston, I am afraid you’ll be finding a bit of wine left in my complimentary bottle.
BUT I highly recommend it to everyone else, wherever and whenever it next pops up.
