All Hallows Eve
Leanne just asked me if Hawthorn was cool when we went there on Saturday night. I had to write her a rather long-winded reply (I know - ME - who would've thought?!) to explain that it was indeed cool, but not in the way expected.
Sean had given me the head's up on Hawthorn, saying it was more like someone's luxorious living room than a bar. So it seemed like the perfect place for Sam and I to head to after checking out the Word Collective/The Literati gig at Happy.
The 'haunted' sign should've given us a clue. As we climbed the stairs, the handrail was entwined with fake cobweb stuff and it started to dawn on me that the strangley attired people I'd seen earlier in the night may not have just been the usual kooky upper Cuba residents, may be something to do with the proximity to Halloween. Pushing through the doors, there was a blast of sound and warmth and -oh lordy- absolute madness.
My living room certainly doesn't have bartenders dressed in full costume: the girl in a big white flowy thing with a red four-clawed scratch mark across her decolletage, another in a white lab coat covered in blood splattered and goggles around his neck, the last one looked sorta normal except we saw as we were leaving that he was wearing below waist/bar-level a big ole tutu and fish-nets. Of course.
There was a smoke machine just under the bar, going off and fogging up the place on a regular basis. In the bathrooms spooky organ music was playing - I actually got a bit freaked out, but I had had like three drinks by that stage so ...you know... was pretty much written off. There were cobwebs and dangly things hanging off everything, plus bowls of lollies along the bar, trick or treat style. And the place was packed - mostly with people in hard out costumes, people committed to the concept. None of this wishy-washy 'remove one item and back to looking decent' rubbish.
I attempted to take a photo of the adorned coat hooks and me with my broken-heart necklace but instead took this crap blurry photo that makes it look like my face is melting... still fairly appropriate for the night.
Apparently Hawthorn is usually very chill and cosy, and you can toast marshmallows and raid their stack of board games to play something fun like backgammon or Connect 4 while you enjoy some fine 42 Below. Mmmm.
Sean had given me the head's up on Hawthorn, saying it was more like someone's luxorious living room than a bar. So it seemed like the perfect place for Sam and I to head to after checking out the Word Collective/The Literati gig at Happy.
The 'haunted' sign should've given us a clue. As we climbed the stairs, the handrail was entwined with fake cobweb stuff and it started to dawn on me that the strangley attired people I'd seen earlier in the night may not have just been the usual kooky upper Cuba residents, may be something to do with the proximity to Halloween. Pushing through the doors, there was a blast of sound and warmth and -oh lordy- absolute madness.
My living room certainly doesn't have bartenders dressed in full costume: the girl in a big white flowy thing with a red four-clawed scratch mark across her decolletage, another in a white lab coat covered in blood splattered and goggles around his neck, the last one looked sorta normal except we saw as we were leaving that he was wearing below waist/bar-level a big ole tutu and fish-nets. Of course.
There was a smoke machine just under the bar, going off and fogging up the place on a regular basis. In the bathrooms spooky organ music was playing - I actually got a bit freaked out, but I had had like three drinks by that stage so ...you know... was pretty much written off. There were cobwebs and dangly things hanging off everything, plus bowls of lollies along the bar, trick or treat style. And the place was packed - mostly with people in hard out costumes, people committed to the concept. None of this wishy-washy 'remove one item and back to looking decent' rubbish.
I attempted to take a photo of the adorned coat hooks and me with my broken-heart necklace but instead took this crap blurry photo that makes it look like my face is melting... still fairly appropriate for the night.
Apparently Hawthorn is usually very chill and cosy, and you can toast marshmallows and raid their stack of board games to play something fun like backgammon or Connect 4 while you enjoy some fine 42 Below. Mmmm.
Labels: photo, shenannigans
posted by Bel | 1:45 PM
7 Comments:
I went back there on Wednesday and it was much more "living room like", which is to say that there were 2 people there, not including my friends and the bar staff.
Smoke machine?
Lollies?
Terrifying organ music in the loo??
No, but the basins were still carved out of rock and they had little individual towels to dry your hands with.
I will check it out tonight and hope my experience is just as cool as yours. Belles that is not your Sam. You ruined it for me :(
Golly.
A bar.
With LOLLIES!!!!!
And BOARD GAMES!!!!!!
Perfect.
Waaaah! I wanna go there!!
Oh yeah, POOR YOU Lou - stuck in London with NO cool bars to go to!! :P
I'd forgotten about the stone slab basins, Sam... or attributed them to a one-off theme of the night. You know, going for nouveau morgue chic or summink...
And yes, Trelly, I think this is an establishment about non-amping enough for your tastes. I'll check next time if they have a DVD player tucked away anywhere so we can start up a WGTN regional tournament of Scene It! complete with appropriate refreshments :)
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