Ridley Road Market Bar

In the market for a different night out?

London is filled to bursting with nights out - for every imaginable evening entertainment appetite, there is something to be found within the city. And one doesn’t even have to look hard - apps, listicles, tube adverts and free magazines abound to spread the word. So, these paragraphs are not to herald a new ‘hotspot’, perfectly themed by a PR team celebrating the launch of a snazzy cocktail, but to simply tell of an evening, an imperfect hideaway in a sea of venues where every detail is curated, branded and promoted.

A rainy Thursday in East London. The handwritten invitation said “10 pm, Dalston Junction. Be there.” It was handed to me at a birthday party the week before by a tight-lipped and clearly very excited co-reveller called Sophie who seemed confident she’d found a diamond in the rough (trade). Plied with more prosecco, she let slip something about a mysterious man called Jed in a top hat and leopard print coat. Jed led her and a friend to this place, she began… then she stopped herself. “You’re gonna love it,” she quickly promised, then gesturing to my vintage lace dress, added “especially you.” My curiosity was piqued.

10 pm rolled around at last. My closest friends and I alighted in our dancing shoes and birthday week retro best at Dalston Junction and, pirouetting over puddles, followed along to Ridley Road, to what at first looks like a run-down beachfront cafe, sandwiched between metal-shuttered storefronts and a late-night barber shop. Sophie (an organiser of clandestine Sofar Sounds music nights) certainly knows how to generate a buzz, and the narrow space was happily hopping. As a rule, if something looks like it could be a set for cult TV show Twin Peaks, it’s got my vote: cheap faux-wood vinyl panelling, a delightfully pockmarked checkerboard linoleum dance floor, a long line of booths dressed in gingham tablecloths. Though, not one to adhere too closely to any particular mould, the bar area was festooned in tropical fairly lights and lorded over by a potted palm. However, to borrow a phrase from Audrey Horne, the music was indeed “too dreamy”.

It was provided by double turntables manned by double DJs (appropriately, named Double Agent) at the far end of the long room, spinning a lively mixture of funk, swing, jive and rockabilly that made it impossible not to shirk your inhibitions and shake your tail feather. Armed with the bar’s signature (and London-famous) ginger mojito, I did just that. It was the kind of dancing I indulged in in my bedroom with my dress mannequin, Betty, and that I always wished were present at high school homecomings and proms - namely, unstudied boogie.
The dance moves were as diverse as the people being grooved by them. The checkerboard was a carnival of twists, Charlestons, shimmies, even an Egyptian strut done in earnest. The legendary Jed was there in sunglasses his voluminous afro wig swaying to the beat.

My particular brand featured plenty of twirls and probably looked as wacky as it felt - but no one was really watching. And, after all, isn’t that how the aphorisms tell you you're meant to dance?

Ridley Road Market Bar is open throughout the week, late evenings early mornings. There is no guest list, entry fee or dress code and thank heavens for it. See you at Dalston Junction. Be there.