A Grade II listed building — like the Flying Scotsman — the interior is stunning, with what the British Listed Buildings website refers to as "highly decorative deep-coved cornice frieze patterned with lion's heads, winged creatures and shells". Subscribe to our email newsletter to get update, discount and special offers. What is clear, though, is that these are places where a normally intimate human interaction has been codified and reduced to a cold, commercial exchange. It's also a fantastic business model, with customers effectively paying a tax every ten minutes they're in the venue. About Our Club. I do warn you that the girls are stunning!
Browns is an OVER 21 venue.
James , London 2 years 3 months 8 days ago. This time I would like to share my thoughts on the money collection by your fine, FINE ladies in the house. It's only a small gripe, but a gripe all the same. I was talking to my chum Indra and we are both in agreement that you should maybe collect the pound coins in some fine china cups and a saucer if you will? Hearing a pound drop on that fine china gives me happy thrills just thinking about it!!
Indra suggested that he would even consider going 5 nights a week instead of the three he already spends there if you were to take us up on the cup and saucer offer!!! So a penny for your thoughts guys and please keep up the good work!!! Matt Queralt , Oxford 6 years 5 months 1 days ago.
Show all user reviews for Browns Gentleman Club. Before walking through the door, I was sceptical to say the least, but full credit to the ladies for making me feel welcome. A great time was had by all I like to think the ladies enjoyed our company too - in fact, I know they did , and we shall be returning soon without a doubt.
I hope to be able to emulate Guy from Leicester and make the trip a regular one Guy, I hope to cross swords one day soon sir, but be aware my friend, my sword is long, blunt and has very little point to it, but in the right hands, DEADLY!!! Matt Queralt , Oxford 7 years 7 days ago. I have been going back three times a year since. The atmosphere is good and friendly, the beer is the average price in London.
Or they have boob jobs. I met linda Lusardi once, a beautiful girl on the outside and a beautiful girl on the inside, full of fun too - great. Guy Richards , Leicester 7 years 25 days ago. Umut chetin , London 7 years 4 months 15 days ago. Not a problem, but the entry is not always free. Pints are normal prices and atmosphere is good.
I do warn you that the girls are stunning! Red , London 9 years 6 months 20 days ago. Your review has been submitted. Once you have verified your e-mail address, it will be displayed on the site. Please note that Fluid London has no affiliation with any venues listed on our websites.
Edit the information we hold on Browns Gentleman Club or learn about upgrading today. Login with a Fluid username and password Email: Remember Me. Forgot your password? Sitting at the top of the Caledonian Road, the Scotsman is one of the oldest surviving pubs in the area, offering red-faced, tooled-up football away fans flat lager and semi-naked women.
Inside, it looks like a set from The Sweeney. Reputedly one of the last pubs in town to put sawdust on the floor, it has decaying wood panels and paintings of hunting scenes on the walls, and smells of stale alcohol and farts. On stage, a blonde girl in stockings and suspenders swings a pair of leopard skin knickers around to 50 Cent's "Candy Shop".
A crowd — including a group of Polish lads in builders' attire, a defeated-looking businessman and an old geezer in a dirty vest and an MA1 jacket — watch raptly.
Banana Republic Greenville ScFor those unfamiliar with how a strip pub works, basically, as each girl dances, another parades around with a pint glass eliciting pound coins from the assembled punters.
Anyone refusing to contribute gets forcibly ejected. There's something strangely English about a woman in Ann Summers underwear chugging loose change under your nose in exchange for a spot of stage-writhing. It's also a fantastic business model, with customers effectively paying a tax every ten minutes they're in the venue. Judging by his clothes, this might well be true.
His outfit is every bit as dilapidated as you would expect from someone who has spent most of his adult life putting all his pound coins in a pint glass. Just a mile down the road, but leagues away in terms of ambience, is The Griffin. Here, I'm greeted by a unresponsive bouncer who hulks moodily at the door.
Given his intimidating bulk, I'm less concerned about bottles being thrown than of my chances of getting out alive if I run out of loose change. First opened in "in the heart of London's law district", the venue was refurbished a couple of years ago from a shabby fruit-machine-and-dart-board pervert's paradise into something that now looks like an All Bar One with added naked people.
Like the Flying Scotsman, which has its own Twitter feed, the Griffin's website advertises its daily line-up of girls on a handy calendar. As Alex from Romania gyrates around the venue's smeary pole, I don't see any stars. But the crowd — largely composed of after-work media executives in suits — is definitely less shabby than that at The Flying Scotsman.
They're being hyped up by Tony, a chuckling DJ who introduces each of the girls over the records "Welcome the very lovely Taylor from Bethnal Green to the stage" and sings along to the Alexander O'Neal track he's just put on. Aside from a Japanese guy reading a book in the roped-off VIP section, the crowd is stag-do merry. Guys with their arms around each other sing along to "Wonderwall", pissed on Stella, as a pink spotlight illuminates a dancer's arse.
When she gets mad with an office worker, accusing him of taking photos on his iPhone, and the bouncers pile in, I decide it's time to leave. It's shit! He's talking to one of the polite Greek waiters who show customers to their tables here, to buy expensive champagne and get fleeced by girls offering "private dances".
Unfortunately, he's right. Apart from him and his mates, the place is dead. After his rotund friend has had a go on the pole in his suit, a girl begins dancing dolefully to Usher's heartfelt paean to a stripper girlfriend, "I Don't Mind", without actually taking any of her clothes off.
A cab over to Aldgate and I've hit the Nag's Head, a busted-up old boozer of pungent toilets that rivals The Flying Scotsman in terms of that very unique form of dilapidated charm. Here, a tall, Charles Dance-lookalike, East End hardman in an ill-fitting pinstripe suit looks moodily on as a girl masturbates onstage to Turkish music. The women take it in turns to dance, and the pound-in-the-pot rule is strictly imposed.
But the atmosphere is relaxed and the girls find ways to entertain themselves, searching eBay for shoes on iPhones and apparently pulling the punters. Phil, for instance, seems to be getting on very well with Inga. I wonder whether I'm finally witnessing a real human connection in this world of mirrors, dry ice, cheap perfume and exceptionally tall transparent high heels.
I've now been joined by Jake, the photographer, and my friend Dave, which is fortunate — I need the company. Five venues in and I'm beginning to wonder whether this trawl through London's strip pubs is actually going to teach me anything about humanity, or simply force me to part with a week's worth of wages. The Rainbow is a hot, crowded little neon box on Shoreditch High Street that shows fights on TV along with live stripping, thus satisfying the requirements of the most machismo-fuelled guys in town, all of whom are gathered around me.
Inside, you're grasped at by a series of girls with sharp, polished talons, and little conversation beyond: After batting off a number of similar interlocutors, Jake is reflective. Apparently, he's not the only one in a philosophical mood. From our vantage point by the private room I see a man sitting at a table gazing deep into the anus of his nude dancer, who's bending over in front of him.
He is rapt, as though staring into Nietzsche's abyss, searching for God.
Spend an evening in the company of London's most beautiful girls at one of the capital's oldest established gentleman's clubs. Our Services. Reputedly one of the last pubs in town to put sawdust on the floor, it has decaying wood panels and paintings of hunting scenes on the walls, and smells of stale alcohol and farts. Wed — Umut chetin , London 7 years 4 months 15 days ago. Save Yourselves. Subscribe Mailing List. Find Us.
Strip Club and Table Dancing Bar In Shoreditch, London:
The next thing I knew, amid shouts and falling chunks of jagged glass, she had lashed out randomly and I received a blow to the chin that nearly floored me. We stare at her, bleary-eyed and knackered, our incomprehension shining out as bright as a neon sign. We offer a fantastic range of premier drinks as well as showcasing all the latest sporting events, including premier league football, test match cricket and world title boxing. If you want a more personal experience you can indulge in one of our VIP experiences — see our VIP section for more information.
Hardly a stunning insight. A cab over to Aldgate and I've hit the Nag's Head, a busted-up old boozer of pungent toilets that rivals The Flying Scotsman in terms of that very unique form of dilapidated charm. Contact Us. But the crowd — largely composed of after-work media executives in suits — is definitely less shabby than that at The Flying Scotsman.