Ukraine's leading English-language newspaper since 1995

The best way to party is to do it spontaneously. In this case, even if you don’t end up having a really good time, you can never be as disappointed as you would be, if you planned something way ahead and had high expectations.

Last Friday I was suddenly dragged to what turned out to be the hottest party of the night in Kyiv. My friend got tipped off that French writer Frederic Beigbeder was playing as deejay at one of the newest Kyiv clubs, Heaven. Since she was madly in love with his books (in which the main character is the author himself), we simply had to go. I read his best-known novel “99 Francs,” saw a movie based on it and knew him to be one of the most popular French writers and quite an interesting character. I didn’t mind.

In general, I’m not a “nightclubbing” type of person. I do like going dancing from time to time, but I’ve discovered the stuck-up atmosphere of the majority of Kyiv clubs and dull electronic music played there don’t appeal to me at all, so I gave up on local discos altogether.

So, unexpectedly finding myself in a new hot spot, I wondered if nightclubbing Kyiv-style had anything for me after all.

We arrived in a hurry only to discover that Heaven was still quiet, and my friend’s beloved Frederic wasn’t going to appear till 1 a.m. Little by little, clubbers began flowing in and the party was getting started. I felt quite uninspired by what I saw. People came prepared. Everyone tried to outdo the other with their outfits – silly hats, dresses of various shapes, pants of blazing colors and sunglasses (I can hardly think of a more stupid thing to wear in a dark club).

Most guys looked like the “metro-sexual” epidemic hit them hard on the head and, as result, they spent more time in front of the mirror than their girlfriends and sisters, and probably learned their dance moves from them as well. Having obtained their drinks from not very well-mannered bartenders, boys and girls leisurely hung around, nodding their heads to music. Standing and waiting for the man we came to see, I felt bored out of my mind.

At last, shortly after 1 a.m. Beigbeder did show – the flamboyant French playboy in the flashes of photo cameras. It was hard to say if Beigbeder was much of a deejay – it looked like his pal deejay was doing all the work, but he definitely got the party going. The music was a cocktail of styles, mixing some familiar pop hits, rock songs and funny French tunes. By then, the small club was very full, but guess what? No one was dancing except two go-go dancers. Apparently, the idea of a cool party was to stand and stare, waiting to be picked up or looking for someone to pick up. Beigbeder himself didn't seem to care, jumping on the stage and shouting obscenities into the microphone from time to time. He was amusing to watch. As for the rest, I will stick to my favorite rock-n-roll venues for the time being.