As we approach the season of festive silliness, booze and brawls, photographer Elliott Morgan and I set out on a bar crawl across the capital. A bitter night in November, our quest began as revellers were on their first drinks – sipping wine under heaters in Soho – and ended in the early hours of the morning, when decorum was a long forgotten concept.
Not your average bar crawl, the closest we got to the inside of a club was feeling blasts of warmth as the door swung open. We weren’t there for the shots or the Chaka Khan, but to meet the guardians of London’s party galaxy. The door people who can make or break our nights out, the keepers of the keys to the capital’s best clubs.
