Esme Gordon-Craig

It’s a Friday evening, work has finished and pre-drinks have kicked off with cheap spirits and even cheaper mixers. Outfits have been chosen strategically to cope with the frosty commute and a sweaty dance floor. Discussion is dominated by tonight’s head-lining act. It’s a routine that has existed since the birth of club culture. Except we are not waiting in KOKO or Heaven or another of central London’s famous nightlife venues. Instead, the DJ is my best friend and the venue is his kitchen.  More than four decades since the birth of modern clubbing and – we are told – British nightlife is facing an existential crisis. The industry reportedly contributes around £112 billion to the economy every year – around 5 per cent of GDP. And yet, it is at breaking point.

Turning 24 came with more than just cake and candles. Alongside the celebrations came a barrage of life-determining questions: when are you getting married? Where do you see yourself living? When will your job become a career? With a single step into my mid-twenties, I felt suddenly catapulted into a new world of adult expectations. And nothing captured this shift more than my birthday presents. I love my new pilates ring and am curious to see what collagen will do to my complexion, but there was something unnerving about receiving an entire haul of health-inspired gifts. When my friends arrived that evening to celebrate my ‘achievement’ of turning 24 – still unemployed and still at home – the wellness theme continued.