What better time to have a party for no apparent reason than during Rosemount Australian Fashion Week? Amongst the slew of shin-digs and events happening every night alongside the evening runway shows, one of Australia's longest standing staples in denim, Lee Jeans and the notorious Vice, for no other reason than shits and giggles, decided to join forces. They took over an old abandoned chocolate factory called, well, The Chocolate Factory, located in Haymarket skirting Chinatown (though the party itself was thoroughly embedded in Drunkytown), to host a party. Tucked away as it was, a rather unhelpful, though well-meaning friend who was already in the thick of it screeched instructions to "Walk towards Scruffy Murphys! Near the Mandarin Club!" down the phone to me over the din.
So I suppose it was all part of the fun to trudge past Scruffy's and it's denizens; to round the corner to the Mandarin club and walk towards what looked suspiciously like a dead end - or somewhere you could quietly disappear, never to be seen again. It turned out to be u-shaped alleyway that echoed with the hint of a thumping good time. My courage was rewarded and there before me, flanked by burly security, was a tiny wooden door that glowed with the red light of debaucherous promise.
Lee and Vice had roped in talented Melbourne duo Tin & Ed to trick out the ramshackle space with an art installation that greeted you as you entered the main room, as well as the infamous Clambake DJs and Modular/DFA's Canyons on the decks supplying the evening's choice musical delights. Mark the Cobrasnake is slithering about town, so he dropped in to snap some pics as well as some of the free pizza that got delivered. The booze flowed freely, and the biggest trend of the night was accessorising with a drink in each hand – which surprisingly, never actually ran out, with more cases being delivered even as I was leaving the building.
It also seems that this it wasn’t just any old abandoned chocolate factory. Fact: it’s the very same factory that Minties were invented in! Who'd have thunk it, walking down rape alley? This thoroughly hip venue is reminiscent of the grimy underground cool that you see in New York or London, but rarely in the slick, shiny facades of Sydney nightlife. It was the perfect backdrop for good old fashioned fun. And fun, just like the party, never needs a reason to happen.