It was a standard beginning to the night. My friends and I caught a cab into the city, and $ 60 later there we were in Drewery lane, destination, Baroq House. As expected of any half-decent club on a Friday night, the line was ridiculously long.
So there we were, 5 girls amidst seventy or so others, sporting their latest threads and taking on the rigorous task of waiting out in the cold. Anticipating that red rope to be lifted before us all to step into that world of regrets, excessive alcohol and doof doof beats.
Approximately 2 minutes go by when we decide that waiting in line is utter bullshit and that perhaps one of us should flash something in order to get in quicker. Whilst fighting to see which of the five of us would have the ‘balls’ to do so, we notice a guy with a clipboard approach us. To our delight he wasn’t just some creep with a clipboard he was the doorman, and he was our ticket into the club.
At this point it is safe to admit that we all felt pretty damn special walking past those gazing eyes, which pierced us as we walked to the front of the line. From here on we knew it was going to be a good night.
As we stepped foot into the first of three levels of Baroq, it’s aura of sophistication and class was sensed instantly. The delicate decor, the dim lighting, the ceiling to floor mirrors, candelabras and colour schemes ooze a standard that not many clubs perfect nor even attempt.
We made our way down rather intriguing, narrow stairs, which somehow remind me of Alice in Wonderland. Perhaps it’s the black and white wallpaper, or the fact that they’re so damn narrow. Who really knows? All I know is that once you’ve had a few drinks they’re not as great as you initially thought they were.
The stairs lead us to the bottom level of Baroq where the latest house tunes blare through the speakers. There are swarms of people, the roof is rather low but considering my friends and I are shorties it doesn’t seem to bother us.
A round of Midori and Lemonade, and Wet Pussy shots to kick start the night. It took longer to order the damn drinks, than it did to consume them, but we were buzzing, that was all that seemed to matter.
As we look around we can’t help but notice all the fine men in the club. Not only does the club itself yield sophistication, its crowd does too. The boys play it up with, slacks and shirts, jeans and shirts or full-blown suits. The ladies are absolute stunners too. They wear immaculate make-up, have perfectly styled hair, little dresses and sky-high heels. A perfect mix to perhaps find ‘the one’.
Well apparently I did. Being the joker I am, I happen to steal a hat off some random guy (who ended up being the dude who runs the Friday night at Baroq). He then approached me, and asked me to bare his children. I broke out in laughter, thinking it was the most unique and forward pick up line I had heard in a while.
2 bottles of wine, and 4 Wet Pussy shots later, our bodies gave in and it was time to go. We said a quick bye to the heater sharing, beat dropping security guards, and were back in a cab. This time, destination was home.
Baroq House is a definite must-go-to place. Ladies, if you don’t mind dolling yourself up for a night out on the town and don’t mind rubbing shoulders with exquisite smelling and dressing men then be sure to check it out. Fellers, if actually brushing your hair and getting out of your trackies and Havainas is not a task that proves too difficult, then be sure to make an appearance.
In summary, the Baroq House is the divine cross between sophistication and fun.
By Dianne Climent for Sydney Bars and Function Rooms