Nylon provokes allergic reaction

The signs were all there: the location (Moorgate, City central); the disclosure that the busiest night was ' Thursday, closely followed by Friday' (read: deserted at weekends); a sprawling 'VIP' area (requirement of entry? A robust credit card); the Stringfellows-esque promise of 'sexy waiting and bar staff' (eek!) and the discovery that, despite billing itself as a ' restaurant/bar', the former was open only for lunch, with just meagre bar snacks in the evenings.

Still, I reasoned, the proprietors ought to know what they are doing, with the Babushka bars among their number. So, how bad could it be?

Worse than I could have possibly envisaged. At 7pm on a Thursday, Nylon was heaving. Having negotiated the malodorous throng downstairs, we retreated to the VIP area, where plaid-clad Square Milers were converging. We sought solace in the flavoured vodkas while, all around, raptorial revellers with more girth than dignity gyrated to a tortuous soundtrack (U2, Sting, non-ironic Michael Jackson and Steps). Like a bastard hybrid of School Disco and All Bar One, by 9pm the crowd was loosening ties and pole-dancing around fish tanks.

That the food reached new levels of flavourlessness is purely incidental. But the drinks? Well, even six doubles and a less-than-delicious cocktail failed to have the desired anaesthetic effect.

Nylon
1 Addle Street, EC2 7EU