Last night I attended the launch of one of Cape Town’s new hot spots, Sugar Hut… despite ending up a bloodied, tragedy-befallen trainwreck – and having my camera stolen – I actually had a rocking time. Alas, I now have zero piccies to show you, so you’ll just have to use your imagination in parts.
The evening started off well enough with myself, Dax, Karisa and Paige, hitting up the club around 8pm. After being greeted at the door by gorgeous, glamazon hostesses, we soon settled in a cosy corner and were treated to a veritable fountain of Boschendal champers which we drank while taking in a spot of belly dancing. (Paige said it was the first time she’d seen a belly dancer without a belly. And that’s a good thing…)
Venue-wise, having seen glamtastic piccies of the spot online, I’m glad to say it didn’t disappoint in the ‘flesh’. The place is tres elegant with big, beautiful couches, glittering chandeliers and interesting little touches like a big golden Buddah in one room and pretty-looking birdcages in another. I also liked that despite being quite full, there was still lots of room to schmooze and booze.
In terms of peeps on the scence, the blogger bunch was out in full force, namely Clayton Morar, Jasna ‘Fashion Jazz‘ Zellerhof and celeb make-up artist Elouise Dreyer. I was also thrilled to run into Bheki and Sibu Dladla.
The first time I met Sibu was back in the day when I used to write for One Small Seed magazine. I had to interview him for a fashion label he’d created called Jaded Androgen that, at the time, was still kinda underground. Now, however, he’s doing crazy good… so much so that he’s heading off to London Fashion Week!
Sibu’s always had a flair for le dramz and I wish I had the piccies I snapped of him to show you. Dude was rocking a swish Ferragamo scarf and MAC Lipglass in Pinkarat.
As for his boet, Bheki, he’s doing just as well. He was recently picked as one of Cosmo’s sexiest men and features on their calendar. (Mr April, ek se…). His band, I Scream and the Chocolate Stix, is also blowing up. ‘Leigh, you’re going to diiiieeeee… we’re doing this concert soon and Prime Circle is opening for us! Can you believe it? They’re opening for us!’, he squealed.
If you haven’t heard their music, you’ve GOT to check out the music video for their song, My Cape Town, on youtube. (It was directed by actor Porteus Xanadu, who just so happens to be the boyf of my darling fellow Jupitarian, Isabella de Villiers.) You’re sure to love their shizz, but I’m extremely biased as Sibu is one of my little sister’s besties.
Despite gale force winds, a decent crowd had turned out and, thanks to the copious amounts of champers, everyone was in a good mood. Le tragedie struck, however, when Paige and I decided to go out onto the balcony for an evil ciggie. Within minutes, the bar we were leaning up against got struck by a vicious gust of wind and broke apart, effectively collapsing on top of us. ‘Happily’, the two of us were nice and dronk at this point, so we didn’t feel a drop of pain as we slammed onto a big pile o’ glass that used to be our cocktails.
After prising ourselves out of the wreckage, I discovered I had nice, fat gashes in my knee and hand. And, due to the fact that my blood was probably 80% booze, they decided to bleed like stuck pigs. Luckily, Dave, a dashing, easy-on-the eye manager with a knack for first aid was there to help me out. Dude poured half a shot of vodka onto my wounds to disinfect them and carefully bandaged me up while I drank the rest of the shooter and reapplied my lipgloss (MAC Cultured, oh the irony…)
It was round about then, while I was distracted and bloody, that some cretin must’ve dipped his hand into my sak and nicked my camera! Can you believe it? I’m v. v. upset as I’d taken some uber-awesome shots to show you, my favourite being the one I snapped shortly after my fall. Despite the fact that in it, I’m dripping in blood and pulling an overtly dramatic ‘sad face’, my hair looked beyond fabulous…
Once patched up, we moved through to the dancefloor. The DJ had started playing some rad throwback hits (think Roxette and WHAM!), making it easy to dance the pain away. (Karisa and I are especially fond of drunken dancing and get off on being the first to open up a dance floor with a carefully crafted mix of attention-seeking bad 80’s dance moves and generalised sletterlik bumping and grinding. I also feel obliged to mention that Meener Dax really knows how to break it down…)
It was exactly half way though ‘Wake Me Up (Before you Go Go) that I discovered my camera was gone and collapsed into a heap of woe. It was short lived, however, as Bheki and Karisa dragged me into a v. nice, spacious bathroom stall and cheered me up with a series of tales relating to how my robber would get zapped by the karma gods and meet a horrible, painful demise.
Once back in good spirits, I hit up the bar and soon realised there was a definite bright side to my wretched luck – a string of people I’d never met kindly bought me a zillion shots! The club staff where also lovely and some made an effort to search for my camera, even though I knew deep down that it wasn’t merely lost, but already in the process of being sold for a pitance on Long street.
To finish up the eve, Dax, Karisa and I decided to put in a cameo at KFC. (Well, just Dax and I to be honest… Karisa had passed out in the back seat of his car…) It was here that I came to realise my injuries extended to my mouth… While munching on what I first thought was especially crispy zinger wing, I experience the slow, sickening realisation that I was actually chewing on a piece of my own back tooth! Ick! Ick! Ick!
Still, despite all the dramz, I gotta tell you I had a good night out. Sugar Hut is a fab venue with yummy food (the parmesan, rocket, olive and artichoke pizzalata was delish), great cocktails and rocking music – and I give it a wholehearted two thumbs up.
P.S. Last night I wore Maybelline’s new SuperStay 24H foundation!
I love how in spite of all the aksie, it somehow sat tight and I woke up looking as though it was still freshly applied. Woop, woop!