1 year, 9 months and 19 days ago, Amr Hosny and Mayan Fawaz’s 4 the Love of House was whelped into this world, beating and sizzling and thumping and doing all those things that the Godfather’s work does.
So, for intense throbbing love of this genre, I put on my sexy one shoulder dress, gave my boyfriend a makeover, downed a beer and a couple gins then jetted off in style to the mythical Tamarai to love on some house with Amr Hosny and DJ Natalia Barbin (more on her later).
Arriving fashionably late, I was of course stopped at the door. Well, by door I mean the space 10 feet behind the entrance where the line ended. Why bother having my name on a list when they don’t even have a list? The friends that I’d casually invited had arrived at least an hour before, so there I was bobbing up and down at the end of the line, wishing I’d worn higher heels to try and spot them. I decided to scuttle to the front and casually uttered some magic words and voila! I took the fashionable elevator to the fashionable top floor getting ready to fist pump my way to the top of the nearest table when I was instead forced to sit around shouting at people as no one was drunk enough to be dancing just yet. It’s OK, I had some really fine conversations, though:
Me: “HOW WAS YOUR DAY?”
You: “SHE’S WELL THANKS, WHAT ARE YOU DRINKING?”
Me: “YES, I GOT IT AT ZARA, IT CHAFES!”
So I did what I usually do and just closed my eyes and started dancing by myself in the middle of the floor. I HIGHLY recommend this method of enjoying clubs when no one else seems to be doing so. With Amr Hosny’s excellent beats in the background I could definitely feel the place hopping. I couldn’t see it but I could feel it, y’know?
So, well, whatever, I was dancing before it was cool.