Drinking on the dance floor is akin to a ritualistic experience where we can shed our old selves and become someone new. Mariam and Kate took that journey one boozy night in Peckham and this is how it went.
There’s no doubt that as soon as you step into the club you’re going to experience something, a beautiful moment where everything comes together.
Moves flow, you ride the vibe of your fellow clubgoers, and you don’t want it to stop. Usually, that moment is facilitated by alcohol – tequila, rum, childish cocktails or, for the demons that walk among us, vodka.
We moan about queues, not bringing a jacket and the state of the gender-neutral bathroom, but alcohol and the club atmosphere can make all of these bearable…dare we say, even enjoyable. As the drinks drop, we subconsciously become different versions of ourselves, so we took this as a catalyst to document the booze-soaked psychological shifts on a night out to see how reality changes at the club.
Mariam’s account
Shot number one: Tequila I arrived very early so I’m currently cowering at the corner of the club drinking the tequila I smuggled in a rainbow flask hidden in my jacket. Even though I have student finance and I live at home, I’ll have to be inebriated to pay £9 for a single shot. There are only three positions to take so far: standing by the wall, prepping in the bathroom or at the bar seeking some Dutch courage. The scene is best described by the guys' style: straight leg jeans, either a branded fleece or a plain coloured shirt and trainers, the kind you would see on a self-proclaimed “creative director.” We are in Peckham, might I add. At this point, I’m feeling very self-aware and I’m not ready to go with the flow. The DJ is playing music that is actually danceable and I could see myself going nuts once the façade of confidence sets in. So, the goal is to get tipsy-cute and not properly pissed. We aren’t eighteen anymore so pissed and yaking is not the move. Shot number two: Tequila again. I’ve moved to the bathroom again where I met some nice girls. I look into the mirror to see if I feel the buzz. I do. Why do I find myself in the bathroom? It almost acts like a purgatory between real life and whatever the hell this is. That said, I feel the love in Peckham tonight. Slowly, the stress of young life is dissipating, the scene starts to feel friendly, and you are ready to buy your new-found friend a shot. At this moment, inflation doesn’t seem so bad. Getting ready to go back out there again, finally the tequila confidence is creeping its way through. Shot number three and four: Fuck-yeah tequila. I’m on the dance floor trying to type into my Notes app, whilst being ping-ponged between sweaty bodies. By now everybody is feeling it. Bodies, bodies, bodies backdrop the DJ’s hypnotic mixes and euphoric songs. I see people truly lose themselves in the music. COVID is a thing of the past as bodies grind on each other - they will soon be praying that they are attractive outside of the club lighting. I could try to struggle towards the front of the stage to feel the full effect of the sounds but no one would hear my excuse-mes. So I make the most of where I’m at, unsure of whether the liquid I feel on my back is sweat or someone’s vodka and Coke. Saturday nights are back. This is it, I have discovered the sweat spot of a spiritual experience before self-deprecation. Nothing says ecstasy like buying three shots of tequila for yourself and your friend. I am well and truly a different person right now. Eventually, I succumb to the gaze of a man dressed like all the other Peckham bros. Hopefully he’ll ask for my Instagram handle instead of my number. ‘Maybe I am not as socially inept as I thought,’ as I find myself engaging in conversations with strangers. Shot number five (drink safely): No more tequila. Time for McDonald’s. With the effects of the night wearing off, it's time for another bathroom trip - a sacred space where I break away from the clubland to collect myself and check in on how I’m really feeling. Where everything outside of clubland is moving a mile a minute and there is no opportunity for a pause, the zen I feel in this messy powder room is not known anywhere else.
Kate’s account
Shot number one: Two shots of silver tequila – shock to the system, but lowkey refreshing. The night begins with pre-drinks at my friend's house – two shots of Captain Morgan and a swig of vodka mixed with iced tea. As an improving lightweight, I am already the slightest bit buzzed. Fast forward to the queue outside the club, shivering with excitement and anticipating strutting into the club for tonight’s motive. My coat safely stowed away in the cloak room, the next stop is the bar. We arrive just in time as the party starts to get lit. My group of five take turns to pay for drinks as the alcohol gradually wears off. After our shots, we head to the middle of the packed and dance floor. My guard is up, my vision slightly blurring, but I am giggling and my body feels looser and ready to dance. After a few minutes, we decide to head to the bathroom in the stereotypical fashion of moving in a girl pack. But we backtrack as soon as Ice Spice’s In Ha Mood plays - to the dancefloor, quickly! Shot number 2: Obviously, another tequila shot (and an accidental shot of Wray & His Nephews). Forget the toilet right now. Back to the bar we go. Those shots were cool but I am too sober for this place. Another shot of tequila down, I start to feel blushed and buzzed, as a typical lightweight should be. I am then handed what I think is another tequila shot by my friend – it’s in fact a shot of Wray and His Nephews. I’m so gone that don’t notice that it doesn’t come with any salt or lime. Shot number 3: One last tequila shot – I promise! I tell myself one more shot for the night. At this point, it’s two in the morning, the current vibe is trap music and entranced boys congregate in a body-odour-infused mosh pit. Nauseated, my friends and I decide to find a booth to chill out, which turns into a power nap for three-fifths of us. I wake up to the music still blaring in my ears and my friend filming me, then we sing along to Banking on Me by Gunna. Once we’re all awake, it’s time for a cup of water and a loo break before we head back to Lewisham for much-needed recovery sleep. My friend’s couch, a refrigerated sandwich and more water await me in ends.
