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Sydney CBD, Sydney

Gladstone Hotel (Purple Sneakers)

115 Regent St, Chippendale, NSW
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Purple Sneakers nights on Fridays 'til late set the scene here for indie clubbing six years ago, and it's still going strong every week.

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Gladstone Hotel (Purple Sneakers) Photos

Purple Sneakers Review


Review By Kassia Byrnes

Replying to a friend's invitation to check out Purple Sneakers on Friday night, I asked her where it was. She replied with a very certain 'Abercrombie Hotel'. Confident I knew where to go, as this is right across from my uni, I successfully made it. It looked exactly as I was used to seeing it: pitch black and locked up tight. With confusion I tried to call my not-so-helpful friend who, true to form, was already too drunk to answer her phone. I was on my own, with only my ridiculous excuse for a sense of direction to guide me. Then a saviour arrived in the form of a group of uni students, alcohol bottles in hand and talking very loudly. I knew where they were heading.

When I asked them for directions they gladly took me under their wing, offered me their goon sack, and we all headed to Purple Sneakers together. As it turns out, the venue had been moved to the much harder to find Gladstone Hotel. Apparently it was a very well known and publicised venue change that only my friend and I were unaware of. Nonetheless, I'd finally arrived.

The line to get in wasn't too long and the entry price was only $10. Once I was in I instantly fell in love with the place. It's basically one giant room, slightly separated by the bar. Right in front of me was something like a courtyard, where dance weary people had gathered in groups on long wooden benches to share a drink and recuperate. To my right I noticed a small doorway, through which a bunch of happy smokers stood around in a smaller brick-walled room. Straight ahead was the dance floor.

Rock and indie tunes were blasting from the DJ booth as the pulsating crowd of dancers all jumped and sang along. Nearly everyone here was young uni student age. This is probably why it's one of the few places where you could safely get let in with a casually trendy short and shirt combo. I say this with the exception of one 50-year-old looking guy, complete with dreadlocks and a moustache/beard combination that resembled a bird's nest. He was dancing harder than anyone.

As of yet, I had not managed to spot my friend in the crowd and she was still not picking up. But I knew she had to be here somewhere and I have never been one to shy away from the dance floor. So I bought a drink (at prices that reflect the budget of the uni students occupying the bar) and went to dance. It was crowded and very hot, but if you're lucky you can nab a spot by the giant pedestal fan and it's one of the friendliest crowds I've experienced. Everyone was happy to make room for you and even include you in their dancing circle.

I was lost in the music surrounded by the people I was contemplating replacing my friend with, when she jumped on me from behind. She wanted to know where I'd been.

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