Generally, people look better in black and white. Unless you're Justin Bieber, then purple's your colour.
The 17,000 sq-ft Avalon at Marina Bay Sands. Very bling. It's like God dropped a cufflink into the water.
By now, you must have heard about the raging queues at Avalon when the megaclub opened at Marina Bay Sands last week on the 16th. It was one of those madhouse bottleneck situations because everyone received a glossy invitation card that said ‘VIP’, but arrived to find many, many, many other ‘VIPs’ waiting to get in also. I don’t have a photo of the many, many, many other ‘VIPs’ because it’s kinda weird to take pictures of people just WAITING in line. But trust me, it was a very trendy crowd, nicely suited up with appropriately bored expressions because they’re Very Important People.
But because I call it like it is, here’s what you need to know once you get inside.
As you can tell from the lighting and set-up, the Avalon dancefloor was inspired by every Alien movie you can think of.
The DANCEFLOOR: Huge and cavernous. mesmerizing, almost 360-view of the waterfront at MBS. The only description I can think of is ‘Star Trek meets Green House meets Thai Disco meets Old School Badminton Hall With A View’. As usual, those who can’t dance were relegated to the mezzanine level where they tried to peer down low-cut blouses.
It's great for people watching because, as you know, blue light is more flattering. It makes people more attractive, slimmer. Blue light turns less hot people into Decepticons.
The MUSIC: I was there for less than an hour and I heard pretty random Top 40s from the 80 – 90s. The music policy ain’t big on any one genre. The bass from the sound system was only really kicking on the dancefloor, and generally echo-ey throughout the club. It’s like they’re saying, ‘Don’t pigeon-hole the music ‘cos you never know what’s coming.’ Then Grandmaster Flash came on with ‘The Message’ and the place went crazy. No, not really, because every living thing on the planet has that track in their iPods.
THE DRINKS: So I went to the men’s room. It was one cubicle for 1,000 dudes with bursting bladders. So they had to stand cross-legged and funny while waiting in line. And with that sorta crowd you tend to overhear lively conversations. One conversation went like this.
A: “Hey Bro.”
B: “What, Bro.”
A: “Do you know what I paid for this double-shot of whisky in a plastic cup, Bro?”
B: “No Bro, what did you pay.”
A: “$65+++, Bro.”
B: “Plastic cup?”
A: “Plastic cup.”
B: “Two shots, Bro?”
A: “Two shots, Bro.”
Me: “You’re not really brothers, right?”
The architecture of the place, the magnificent glass walls, are pretty amazing. Meaning that if an ancient 500-foot tall sea-beast like Godzilla is awoken from deep slumber and decides to walk towards MBS to attack the shit out of it because it keeps shining lasers in its EYE every single night, you can actually see him plodding over, crushing buildings, and roaring. Very high drama.
