I’m sorry to anyone who reads this sheeit and who was waiting with bated breath for a coupla months for a wee post from mental island. I have good reason to not have written, although I’m sure anyone can always find the time to write—for all you type-A personalities out there: woteva. I’ve been very busy building a little business, finishing off a collection both for myself and Sheridan French, whose website I will post here when it goes up and you can check out my work. We have also been making some sweet bags for erika pena (www.erikapena.com) and whenever I have pictures of those I’ll put them up as well. My jewellery is nearly ready for a lookbook, the line is called pdb, the picture below is one of the pieces. I hope you all love it and more importantly buy some so I can make more. But enough about me, lets tell a tale from Indo. It’s about to get a lil xxx-rated so anyone still watching pg-13, shield your eyes.
There is a club in Bali called Skygarden, or as my friend Welshman Will affectionally calls it ‘The Gardens’. It is nothing short of a full blown circus. I can’t actually describe in words how utterly ridiculous it is. I’ve done my fair share of partying in various locales allovadaglobe but this place takes the cake. It’s four floors of pure madness in Kuta, which is the centre for all the tourists who come to Bali to get blitzed, boogie and bone. It is on a strip where there are loads of other bars and clubs but this is the mainstay—the four floors have techno, pop, RnB and some other crap music with a rooftop bar. I’ve only been there a few times since friends have been visiting recently and its been hilarious, enlightening and terrifying all at once. The ex-pats avoid it because they are snobs and prefer to go to places further north in Seminyak, where they can pretend they are in some hipster joint in the Lower east side or Old Street. I think it’s brilliant because it’s such a spectacle. It is teeming with prostitutes looking for clients, clients looking for that exotic girl he might just fall in love with—who realises a few minutes in that ‘Oh, shit I have to pay for this?’, downs another red bull vodka and throws caution to the wind and says ‘Hey, it’s Bali! Hey, you’re hot (or not as the case might be) and hey, I’m pissed! How much?’; backpackers looking for indiscriminate hook-ups with fellow travellers; kids taking shrooms (which, bizarrely, are legal here) and realising that tripping isn’t really meant for da club but powering through because of the hilarity of it all. In my time at The Gardens, I have witnessed some truly ridiculous and gruesome sights.
They have a dance and fire show every night which tells you a little something of what they are going for. About 7 dancers get up on stage and throw fire around, moving to a simple but meticulously choreographed routine, replete with backflips and splits. One of the women dancers who looks pretty fierce on stage was passing by my friend Dale as she made her way to perform. He bumped into her by accident, harmless and unfortunate for him, she twisted on her heels with steel toed boots, growled (a proper no holds barred growl) and kicked the guy! And then went on her sociopathic way to chuck some fire about. Next to the stage is the woman who pulls herself up and down on silky rope in a leotard through a hole between floors. Standard. On the same night we were sitting up on some seats in the roof bar. A group of Australian tourists were sitting next to us having just taken part in ‘PowerHour’ where it’s all you can drink Redbull Vodka. These kids were still on it, and then taking turns upchucking. They were literally taking turns, in a bar area, holding each other’s hair back and being sick, then going back to getting on the boozetrain. I went to the toilet at one point and as I was coming out there was a big crowd, and I couldn’t see what everyone was looking at, as the people dispersed and I made my way through, there was a huge 40 year old man (again, Australian) with a large gut and full beard being carried out by the more diminutive Indonesian bouncers. I went to sit down with my people and a kid making his way to the bar slips and stacks it, brings new meaning to falling on yer face, and jumps right back up like a true blue committed party boy. Funny or tragic? You decide.
But the most extreme sight I’ve seen so far was last Saturday night in the techno bar. I went up to get a beer and as I’m waiting for the barman, I look down to my right and there is a woman licking out another woman. Just like that—bait, right in the middle of a well lit bar with at least 100 people in the room eating her out, looking all around her to see if anyone was taking notice. Which DUH they obviously fin were. I don’t know WHAT the deal was, it could have been two prostitutes trying to reel in some business, it could have been two complete nutter exhibitionists, all I know is that it was insane and whatever their little ploy was it worked well because I then went and told everyone I was with who promptly went to smite their eyes with the Most Unbelievable Scene to date.
I don’t fully get the appeal of Skygarden, but I do like the fact that I can go down there and gather up some top shelf stories and smugly spread them all over the internet. It’s funny because it is so eponymous amongst tourists for an ensured Good Time, that when you don’t know where someone might be for whatever reason, you can be about 95% sure they are in the gardens. One friend was visiting and we didn’t have any way of getting in touch with him, we went to look for him and there he was front and centre, right in the thick of it. I do know that if you want a front seat ticket to circus insanity in Bali you now know where to go. Chaperones advised.