Get in
It is easy to dislike a place that only lets in the rich, but before we get too self-satisfied let’s remember that nightclubs have never been the most democratic of institutions. The domains of cliques and gangs, they tread a fine line between the two meanings of the verb ‘to discriminate’. Trying to keep out those who aren’t regulars, don’t wear the right clothes, don’t get the music or take the right drugs even if done with the best of intentions – creating an exciting other space for freaks and their friends – still tips easily into exclusivity. Even the biggest, most seemingly democratic places contain velvet ropes, backrooms, inner-sanctums, huts and caravans for workers, owners, friends and random people who think that to be there means to be somehow special. Élitism, even if it’s only against those who don’t possess the right subcultural capital, is still an -ism (if not one of the really nasty kinds). – Ewan Pearson
The subject off door policy within nightclubs has reared it’s high-and-mighty head lately. From the basement sweatboxes and grungy warehouses to pulsing castles with palatial interiors, almost every club will have a policy of some sorts. Decisions on which clientele to admit or reject rest largely with the door staff, although the code and system (if any) is generally devised by the management. It can be a hard thing to define – and easier to do so on who not to allow. For example, if The Social in Paris really is for “clueless, aggressive, Sarkozy loving, rayban wearing, coked up posh kids”, it would be hard for a club to define this custom with a notice on the door.
It is a self fulfilling prophecy that if a club is harder to get into, it becomes more desirable to try to do so. Take the infamously ironclad Berghain in Berlin for example. It is ridiculously hard for some people to get into, but is widely regarded as the best nightclub in the world. It might just be so that a policy on the door is not an absurd and clueless arbitrary decision made by steroid fueled meat-heads, but is in fact a necessary attitude in order to maintain the meaning of the “club”.
Open sesame
Some people revel in the unchallenging democracy of an open door policy, such as at Fabric in London. Where the door staff are unlikely to turn anyone away unless clearly inebriated and ask only that business men remove their ties. It’s understandable to have no interest in a venue with which the first interaction you have is to be judged by your style and manner. However, a door policy is what defines a club, creating it’s atmosphere along with the music and location. In essence, the policy establishes the crowd. Surely part of the reason you go to a nightclub is for the people who you will share the night and dancefloor with? Clubs which could easily fill the capacity twice over on any given night don’t because they care about maintaining a special atmosphere and a crowd that cares about the music being played.
With your market analyst head on, you can see that a strict door leads to a loyal clientele and a hand-picked demographic. Where there is a healthy scene clubs can afford to be fastidious. Ibiza is unique in its door style, having a historical reputation of wide admittance (and with the main clubs only open for four months per year) they generally welcome all and sundry. Venues that stretch into the thousands in capacity perhaps help to dilute the undesirables.
In any case, our top tips for getting in would be: Be yourself and treat your surroundings with respect. If you are in Perth, Australia: No Ed Hardy, or dyed rat tails.
Ewan Pearson
Fabric
Berghain
Australia National News
