The Red Russians

- or the Italo-Russian alliance, as an Italian made it, and an Italian named it.

Building new bridges by Soho's perma-red light.



"We'll go to a cool club- it's like our place- the barmen all know us and are cute- the Floridita...amazing drinks"



(latin-american buff comment coming up)



"Oh... I went there in La Habana"



And so off we went. It was an odd experience, me and a group of gorgeous It-Russians. But hey, i have hidden depths... :)



To be honest, it meant I was in a position I love: the 'outsider-insider bridge". 'In' enough to talk, and dance and have a great time with the group, 'out' enough to be relfecting on its interaction with the rest of the world.



Did you know that you can buy bundles of youth, glamour and beauty at Floridita. Or at least, people try to. We were at the bar, and the girls were served up with a pinky-red shot that had been created just for them on a previous visit... I christened it the 'Red Russian' and I would reveal the ingredients, but I believe it would tarnish the glitter and mystique that this world needs and feed on. So, having rapidly disposed of the little shiny galls tubes of pretty pink juice, we were all standing and dancing by the bar.



"I'll have four of those" says a man, nodding in our general direction (I am pretty sure that he meant the shots all along...)

And he did.



But why? It is quite a common thing to do in a restaurant I suppose: you see the food, see it is being enjoyed and decide you'll try it too. But, at least you have quite a clear idea of what's inside- veg, steak, fish. It isn't just a glittery phial of pretty pink juice.



Obviously the night-life world is one that needs and feeds on glitter and mystique- it must be a 30-something business man thing to do, to point at a drink and just basically say : "That looks mysterious and glittery and alluring- we'll take four"



But was it only that? I feel that there is a lot in common with these nightclubs and the basic tenets of advertising. The product in this case wasn't really the drink, the product was being young and beautiful and successful and glamorous: and the pretty pink juice in a glittery glass case was the bottled version.



This group was made of the kind of people that would probably have age well- good looks and the money to maintain them- were it not for the fact that they seemed to be doing their level hardest not to. They were all in their late thirties I'd say, but their style still screamed "I am a public school-boy/girl." Right down to the floppy hair and the attempt to pull off the Hugh Grant charm.



I almost lent over to my friend and suggest she find a way of being paid for this, as her very presence seemed to up drinks sales, then realised that job exists- a hostess- and it's not a very polite thing to say to anyone...



If the drinks buying was a lot about status, it was more so, it seemed, about testosterone. (part ii)