Its not often that I get giddy over something new in the capital, but my good friend Clair insisted I try Purl. Thinking it to be some snooty over priced bar where the hostess looks down at you from her stilettos and the waiters swear at you while you are still in earshot, I thought nothing new there and off I went none the wiser. What I was greeted with was nothing new, initially. Nice location, loads of space- but I expect these things when you have to blag your way in and pay through the nose for a bloomin' cocktail.
On closer inspection, I realized I had jumped the gun. A LOT of thought has gone in to this place. Open just 6 months, Purl is a labour of love. Their attention to detail is admirable. Their cocktails are unique (see the science experiment that is Dr. Hydes's Fixer Upper) and their concept is different. Plenty of bars suggest to be vintage. It's a mega buzz word. But Purl maintains its 1920s Prohibition feel throughout. Decadent chandeliers and retro armchairs, only the exposed walls and arches remind you that you are actually underground in a basement, just like a real speakeasy.
With the bar men dressed up and the hostesses dressed down, it sets the dresscode to be just like the bar- whatever you want it to be.
On entering, you can actually feel that you are somewhere special. It feels like a secret. I almost didn't want to tell you.
Dr.Hydes Fixer Upper- served in a smoke injected, wax sealed potion bottle