Lounge Lizards

Evening all.

ah, the eve of a New Year.. the year in question 1967.

The epicentre of cool and grooviness, the very heart of haute coutre, the capital of party land remains the New Bailey club in Sheffield.

Here, faded movie stars mingle with wine snobs, glamour girls and hard bitten hacks meet over bottles of babycham, to share hard luck stories and shoulders still damp from last night's tales of woe

Gangland heavies done good, canoodle with their gals over a rich diet of exotic foods such as vol au vents, winkles and sausages on sticks.

The heady aroma of patchouli mingle with the fragrant scents of slowly roasting pig and deeply spiced curries, all consumed with relish by the bright young things and next year's models, under the professionally cool gaze of the celebrity photographer who remains too cool to flirt, well, with the girls at any rate...

little did they know, soon they would all be embroiled in the midst of a horrific murder mystery with one of them the snake in the bosom, while the lounge lizards hover on the fringes of the scene, knowing they just can't lose....

night all

Fall Like Empires