As I was saying … we scrubbed up alright (see above) – ignore the fact I’m wearing a nightshirt, k?
I’ve known my BFF for … well … ever (clue’s in the title,) and we’ve done the whole clubbing scene before … a few years ago in fact, when I was (cough) 22.
Part of the fun of an evening out with her is the whole process of getting ready. I’m imagining if you’re a bloke reading this, you’re not really going to get this next bit. We’re not quite from the shit, shower and shave brigade. Oh well. But we have certain music we like to play that reminds us of our yoof, and really gets us in the mood for a good night out.
I think Friday night’s playlist consisted of this eclectic mix:
Nightcrawlers – Push the Feeling On
Ciara – Work
Armand van Helden – You Don’t Even Know Me
Nicki Minaj – Beez in the Trap (lazy, lazy ‘song’writing)
Rihanna – Rude Boy (for some reason we played this 3,633 times.)
And so on. You get the gist.
Hair curled? Check.
Copious amounts of slap applied? Check.
Giant chocolate buttons eaten as a pre-club snack? Check.
Three dresses tried on and the first one put back on? Check.
Fuses blown and electrician called? Check.
Convinced a ghost is in the bedroom as all our make-up keeps disappearing? Check.
It was (finally) time to go out.
I hearts Brighton I do. It’s so different to where I live and it’s one of a handful of places I’d happily up sticks and move to. We didn’t really know where we were going on Friday night. Our plan was to ‘wander a bit.’
My friend Tracey had given us the low-down of what’s hot and what’s not and it was up to us, Team Solange (long story) to ignore everything she said and find the ropiest bars we could.
Turns out, we were very successful.