Back to the Black Cap

Back to the Black Cap

The Black Cap of the mid-90s was a haven of dark, grimy glamour – its drag scene electric, its nights unforgettable. Sunday was the night they put on their iconic drag show. I was 25 years old, I lived in Gospel Oak and worked as a croupier in a west end casino. A young flirty Lesbian who I worked with had given me the eye, at first I squirmed, the pit of my stomach dropping every time she came close to me. It didn’t take me long to succumb to her charms. Or to fall into bed with her. This went against everything I had been brought up to believe. The effect it had on me was enormous, turning out to be the most amazing sex that I ever had. I didn’t know sex could feel so heavenly, it had never felt like that with men. I finally admitted to myself what I knew all along but had always denied, I was a Lesbian. And so my adventure began. Soon after my first encounter, I met Katharine. She was tall, blonde, and gorgeous, with a stunning figure and big baby-blue eyes. I fell for her immediately. We were in a full blown relationship within weeks. My first love, my first serious relationship, my first experience of truly being with a woman. We were both young and reckless, loving life and all its decadence.

Sunday night was full of excitement as we dressed ourselves and knocked back our Smirnoff Ice before making our way to the Black Cap. We would sit in the bar upstairs with our drinks, anticipating the revelry of the night ahead. Cigarettes in hand and a ghostly swirl of smoke above our heads we waited for our friends to turn up before heading down for the show. When it was time for us to go downstairs into the venue, the crowd had already started to roll in. The atmosphere was intoxicating and full of life, with its hanging mirror ball glittering above like a shiny gay moon. Already slightly woozy from the vodka tonics and Smirnoff Ice we had consumed upstairs, the thumping of the music penetrated into our bodies.The vibe was burlesque with its heavy burgundy curtains on the stage and multi coloured walls.

Our little posse would always make its way to the front, close to the stage. The show was a spectacle of comedy, dance and mime. The drag queens were fabulous and funny. With our hearts full of entertainment and laughter we danced the rest of the night away while the DJ played 80s and 90s pop. A guaranteed night of fun, glitzy glamour and fabulousness. The Black Cap wasn’t just a nightclub - it was the heartbeat of the LGBTQ+ community of Camden. It will forever be tattooed in my memory for the wild nights, the drag, the comedy, the love, the spilt drinks and sticky floor, the drama, the broken hearts, the music and the sense of freedom it evoked. It was part of a pivotal point in my life, the decade that I dropped my shame, and embraced Camden’s LGBTQ+ community with open arms. And I loved every glitter-drenched second of it.