Going out to Plush before the start of term is always cracked up to be a weird night. No one you know is around, the vibes are pretty much non-existent and the clubs are full of forty year old men trying to relive the ‘good old days’. Add to this the fact that it was a Wednesday, and you can see why I wasn’t anticipating a good night.
Regardless, my housemate and I tried to hype each other up over predrinks, insisting that going out before term starts would be liberating. We could do what we wanted, with who we wanted, and most importantly, leave for a cheesy chips when we wanted. Boozed and glittered up, we headed out into the night, unsure of what to expect from Oxford’s non-student clubbing scene.
When we got to the entrance, we were met with what was possibly the smallest queue outside an Oxford club that I’ve ever seen. It made me slightly worried that we’d have no company once we got in, but hey, it was a freezing January night and we were just happy for the short wait time.
Once inside, however, my eyes widened. I had expected the club to be barren, populated only by desperate singles looking for a mid-week hook up, but what I saw was an eclectic, eccentric and electric bunch of people, having what appeared to be a phenomenal time. Drinks in hand, we headed to the dance floor and went so hard that I managed to almost twist my ankle (not my finest moment). However everyone around me was so friendly, excited and enthusiastic to help, that they managed to alleviate my pain as I soldiered through the rest of the set, eager to pay the sesh its deserved tribute.
Several jägerbombs later, I stumbled into the smoking area and started up a conversation with a drag queen. 20 minutes later, I had received an inspirational pep-talk, some killer winged eyeliner tips, and an extensive tutorial on twerking. I made my way back into the club, feeling like a new woman, ready to take on Plush’s most glamorous feature: the pole.
I’m not entirely sure what happened after 1am, but the snapchat stories seem to suggest that the rest of my night continued to be as enjoyable as the first couple hours. Anyway, if the copious amounts of glitter in my hair the morning after is any indicator, I’d say it was a good night.