Breaststroke in the Goldfish Bowl

I’m totally out of touch with the lesbian scene at the moment. Asides from a freak trip to Popstarz a couple of weeks ago (which was rather fun, thanks), I’ve not been to a lezzer club for bloody ages. And before you question that statement, my favourite lezzer cocktail bar, The Star at Night doesn’t count – it is neither scene, nor heard of…by 99.5 per cent of the lesbian population. It’s like the classically well behaved child in that respect, not too noisy and available when you want it to be – you can almost always get a table. It doesn’t have a prestigious claim to fame like the Glass Bar, which boasts it’s status as the only female only bar left in London. Thus, it remains blissfully unobvious to all but the most well-refined lesbian eye, or those in the know. Not bad for a Soho bar…

Anyway, the point I was trying to make is that I’d like to think that any ‘style’ or dare I say it, ‘fashion,’ that I might associate my wardrobe choice with at the moment, is completely uninfluenced and thus unrelated to, the London Lesbian Scene.

However, as ever, something has caused me to question this bastion of self, and I feel compelled to share. Last night I was out at a magazine launch (cool, huh?) in a Covent Garden bar. I do the mag’s PR (even cooler, huh?) so naturally my attendance at said launch was expected, if not compulsory. But that aside I wanted to go – the magazine in question, Brand, is cool. It markets itself as left-of-the-crops, daring and edgy – a bit like myself, I suppose. So, I turned up, got myself a glass of wine and mingled before the performances started.

Glancing around the nicely filled bar, I quickly noticed the higher than average lesbian attendance record. If the one in ten theory is a go-er then we were hitting the cube function on the calculator. Good stuff – it’s always pleasing to see the Wah Wahs out and about, especially when it’s at an ‘unbranded’ (if you’ll excuse the pun) lesbian event. Both the Editor and Poetry Editor of the magazine are fans of the rug, but that’s an aside…

The next sight to meet my gayley tuned eyes was that of a pair of matching lezzers. Predictable, yes, but in this case, cool too. For both matching lezzers were dressed in a manner that could be described as being ’embarrassingly similar’ to myself. Pointy shoes, preppy-Gap-type shirt and slim jeans. Hell, one of them even had a black low collar jacket, zipped up to the chin, just like mine had been before I entered the bar. It was disturbing to say the least. I’m not sure what I’d have done had they had similar hairstyles to me – as it was they were sporting a longer, darker, off-the-shoulders look.

This was nothing compared to the shocking realisation that one of the aforementioned matching lezzers was a recent dalliance of a good chum of mine. I found myself in that rare state of bemusement when she came over and introduced herself to me, contextualising herself with a reference to said good chum (she recognised me from MySpace, I think) – I honestly struggled to string a sentence together.

The Goldfish Bowl that is the London Lesbian Scene never fails to shock and surprise me. I’m convinced that it really is true that you are never more than two lezzers away from touching minge. My aforementioned pal reliably informed me a while back that this dalliance of hers was acquainted with my Evil Ex. So there, two touch already for me. The disturbing regularity with which such ‘coincidences’ occur almost sends a shiver down my spine.

Dating the London Bike for a year or so, as I did, to my great cost, not so long ago, doesn’t help this. Hence last night’s little swim in the Bowl being a bit of a shock to the system. Fortunately on this occasion I was most definitely not doing the breaststroke in the Pond, if you see what I mean. However, my point is that if I was, I’d struggle to swim into clear water. I’m sure it’s the same for most London Lesbians.

I’m not sure which has perturbed me most – meeting my mate’s latest ex so randomly, or discovering that my shirt-skinny-pointy-jacket combination isn’t quite as unique as I thought it was.  


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