How to survive Berlin as a basic bitch
If you haven’t been to Berlin, you will have probably heard things like how it is the ‘edgy hipster capital of Europe’, or to be ‘careful what you wear and don’t let the bouncers hear you speak English in the Berghain queue’ (that is, if you were prepared to wait in said three-hour-long queue). If you have been to Berlin, you will know that these pearls of wisdom from your fellow globetrotting pals hold at least some truth.
You may have also noticed that most of the streets away from the touristy hotspots look pretty much the same. They are filthy. They are covered in graffiti. There always seems to be discarded pieces of furniture or old television sets strewn across the pavements, along with trendy-looking cafés mingled amongst equally seedy-looking bars - particularly if you are in Kreuzberg or Neukölln.
Having visited the city for the first time back in February, I was lucky enough to meet some locals that could show me around and point me in the direction of ‘cool’ places to eat, drink and hang out. I passed on the offer of techno clubs however, on account of my very English self having ‘nothing to wear’ and thinking that a black denim boiler suit and black wool coat with Dr Martens would be unacceptable attire for going ‘out out’.
Visiting for a second time in the summer with a friend, I now felt cocky enough that I could show her the Berlin ropes myself, planning at least one club night and packing accordingly with the clothes we thought would show the world that we ‘fit in’ to this uber-cool (but not deliberately cool) city. We had the best time hanging out in the trendy-looking cafes and seedy-looking bars, soaking up everything Berlin has to offer - right up until we attempted a club.
We were smart enough not to try Berghain as we knew we’d be setting ourselves up for a fall. We definitely didn't have the Berghain look (or so we thought), so we tried somewhere else that might have been a little easier.
“Do you know what’s going on in here tonight, girls?” we were asked by the bouncer.
“Erm, music?” my slightly drunk friend replied matter-of-factly, trying her best to act sober. Our IDs were checked and we were asked a few more seemingly random questions before we were turned away.
Really, just like that?
Were we too drunk? Was it our accents? Were we just not cool enough? Who knows. I do know however, that we went out that night with the intention of getting into a club, and we thought we had dressed well enough that it wouldn’t have been a problem. Enough effort to make ourselves feel like we were going out, but definitely not too much, and definitely not as much effort girls would have made for a club night back in the UK. Close, but no cigar.
Berlin style is an enigma. It feels like anything goes and there are no rules. However, this is misleading as the biggest faux pas you can make seems to be trying too hard and trying to make yourself fit in. It’s almost as if someone has slapped a post-it note on your back with ‘basic’ scribbled on it and everyone else can see when you are not being your authentic self. If only I had not cared so much about how I looked or about being rejected, and had actually gone with the boiler suit and wool coat in the first place, I may have found out what the inside of Berghain looks like.
