Pacha is still a super club

I know from friends that the crowd at Pacha is more glam than at many London clubs, so I pick up some black patent pointy court shoes and a knitted Eighties top from Beyond Retro. Teamed with a black puffy skirt and tights, I am dressed up but not too ritzy.

For my visit (entry £10) I take my girlfriends Jules and Jem, and Tom, my husband, who is feeling nostalgic for the venue in its previous incarnation, the SW1 club. I too feel a little nostalgic. In my late teens, many a night would be spent driving up the A3 from Guildford bound for a London club with a car full of girlfriends. Our favourite was Malibu Stacey at the Hanover Grand, where we would dance to cheesy house in minuscule dresses and snog "fit" boys.

Ten years on, my tastes may have changed but the memories come rushing back the minute I step into Pacha.

The fabulous Twenties building feels retro in the very best way, with original wood panelling, a stained-glass ceiling and a balustraded gallery overlooking the main dancefloor, around which sit plush red booths. Chandeliers and disco balls hang above.

When we arrive at 11.30pm, the music is already thumping - uplifting house all the way. It's opulent, comfortable, elegant and refreshingly different from the grimy east London clubs I frequent these days.

First off, we head for the downstairs bar, which stretches the length of the main room. It's busy but gloriously queue-free. We girls order vodka and cranberry (£6 each), while Tom plumps for a bottle of beer (£6). The line-up for the night is fabulous: Fabian Chu, Filth & Splendour and Williams & Du Bois, with Tim Sheridan headlining. Not yet lubricated for dancing, we go upstairs, where there are more plush sofas, gilt mirrors and sweeping curtains, and you can look over the balcony to the dancefloor and a sea of sparkly dresses, jewel colours and silver shoes.

We push into the VIP section, which is super-comfortable with booth seats, waitress service and tables that have to be booked in advance: I'm in heaven. We sit back to enjoy the first-class service (the waitress pops back every five minutes) and some people-watching, but resist the urge to stay there all night.

Instead it's back downstairs to dance to Tim Sheridan in the main room at 3am. Instead of "housing" up the music he sticks to his signature deep, dark, wonky tunes. When the bass kicks in a few octaves lower than expected to Tim's own track Juicy Vermin there's much whooping, hands in the air and hipshaking - mine definitely shake as I try to right the wrongs of festive excess. The stand-out track for me is Luciano's almost bottomless Etude Electronique.

"I'm playing the same kind of stuff I would at a warehouse party in Shoreditch or at DC10 in Ibiza, and everyone loves it," Tim tells me at the DJ booth. He has played Pacha's birthday for the past three years. "Folk at Pacha love dirty music as much as anyone; they just dance to it in a swankier environment."

We dance our socks off for the next two hours. Two Brazilian girls beside us are here for the first time - they're heading back to Rio the next morning and are contemplating dancing through the night until they get the plane. From experience I advise against it.

A girl from Didsbury near Oxford in a fabulous spotty handkerchief dress says she loves Pacha so much she journeys here regularly for a night out. She isn't surprised at how many people are out dancing only a few days after New Year's Eve. "People love it here, so they keep coming back, I always see the same faces. Everyone's friendly," she says.

Getting another round of drinks in, I still don't need to queue, nor for the loos. Not once have I had to fight my way across the club or experienced any hassle. Its spaciousness, coupled with the luxe surroundings, make the whole experience most civilised. Glamorous crowds, great tunes - Pacha's got the perfect clubbing formula down pat.

Pacha, Terminus Place, Victoria (pachalondon.com). Times/prices vary