I sit under a twinkling chandelier and enjoy an appetizer of sunchoke veloute with pistachio and lemon creme in a high-ceilinged Rococo style room that manages to be both minimalist and maximalist at the same time (imagine if Louis XV met Banksy) while a fiery redhead shakes monumental tasseled breasts at me with a confidante’s wink. Then I order branzino with baba ganoush and spring onion couscous and my drink of choice for the evening, the Gypsy Rose Lee with rose petals floating above the ice. I look down and think I see a big pair of luscious lips floating in my glass.
Located on the now super-fashionable Bowery it holds poetry nights on Sunday and Monday. But this was Friday and instead of repetition, verse and rhyme we have trumpets, tits and tassels.
A dapper clientele under the golden lighting are in attendance while a jazz band plays like it’s 1922.
I truly feel transported to yesteryear when the art of shaking what the good Lord gave you was a more elegant affair…
Where undressed and well-dressed reside side by side against a backdrop of Sinatra vocalsVa Va VOOM!Next morning over breakfast you might find a stray pink plume in your hair or a sequin clinging to your skin…
Keep the name tucked away for a special night out. High kicks and high jinx guaranteed.
My novel set among the flying feathers and sequins of the international fashion industry is now available. You can buy Silk for the Feed Dogs here