Doors swing open to reveal a steamy Rousseau-esque jungle crossed with racy 1930’s Montparnasse boîte, as photographed by Brassaï. As voluptuous burlesque booty-shaker, Vicky Butterfly, seduces the assembly with her nubile tease, Pre-Raphaelite nymphs flit between tables of bobbed flappers in beaded silks and dashing Louis Jourdan tributes who look like they might launch into ‘The Night They Invented Champagne’ at any moment which, given the amount of Perrier-Jouët Belle Époque being sunk, could be ce soir. Not anticipating an uproarious speakeasy, my attire is more suited to shoving a trolley around Sainsbury’s; perhaps summer pop-up, Salon d’Été could provide a dressing-up trunk for sartorially ill-prepared interlopers? Mine host, Luke Levene, an urbane French dandy, wants news of his delicious bal musette to be a secret shared among like-minded, retro-dressing, cabaret fans - not that I’d spill the beans to several million Metro readers, obviously. A witty stage set in a bespoke atrium atop born-again nightclub, l’Équipe Anglaise - which revelers can also access - it’s a hot spot in every sense. With Eurasian nibbles, whisky sour and apple mojito to be had for £11, and willing fox-trot and tango partners yet to invite, I’m perfecting my best Maurice Chevalier pose in anticipation of next weekend.
at L'Equipe Anglaise 21 Duke St W1
at L'Equipe Anglaise 21 Duke St W1
