London Lowdown

For New Yorkers there's no place like home, of course, but the U.K. can come awfully close

Comments (0) By Tricia Romano Tuesday, Nov 28 2006

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On the Rocks proved that wherever you go, there you are. The small-to-mid-size venue was a charming dive: Neon lights flickered above as DJs Mikki Most and Hannah Holland played electro house to a mixed crowd of trannies, gay boys, straight girls, and goombahs (who, it turns out, are an international breed). In other words, we were at Luxx in Williamsburg circa 2002, minus Amanda Lepore and with ecstasy instead of cocaine.

As I whipped out my camera to take a picture of some of the Londoners, I remarked to Conrad, "They don't have Last Night's Party here, so people aren't used to getting their pictures taken in clubs." I spoke too soon: Not a moment later, a tall man emerged from the crowd with a big SLR digital camera and flashed his bulb. He was Alistair Allan, the Merlin Bronques of London; his site dirtydirtydancing.com has only been up since August and he's already the toast of the town, getting invites to upward of 80 parties a week, shooting for Vice U.K., getting photos in Italian Elle, and doing studio shots for the likes of Justice. Soon he'll be wearing a wig and sunglasses and monopolizing dirty bar bathrooms everywhere. Just like home.