With the fabrics, the rosy cheeks, the dressing and undressing of dollies, the strong men figurines and the kissing booth, all were having a fine party indeed. Kaspia who is a doll, the pink Mai Tai (the maestro) also a doll, circulated magnificently assuring the stream of fun and sights was unbroken.
Bravo sweet Sugartimers.

Colour was the order of the night. Not a few patrons had fashioned their own fine garments, having plundered the dressups from scores of Sydney glory boxes. My own personal dolly, wore a dinner jacket aptly appliquéd with a betattooed Queen Victoria, on her regal arm, the ink still wet, a motif devoted itself to Sugar and its sweetness. A banner for his playful legion. In his arms he cuddled his own mad toy. Through the looking glass and down the burrow I’m sure I spotted Alice finding things ‘curiouser and curiouser’ in the middle of the toys and teddies, but by this hour the bar had gained so much from me and I from it that I don’t know exactly. Absinth, being so much cheaper than petrol now it is the fuel of choice if not distinction. A swing dancing Alice in her party frock cutting a rug with an action man is not an illusion at Sugartime. It happens punters, it happens.

What a lovely nursery it was, a nursery of talent, a den of devine dolls, a great game of pretend was to be had. This squad of dolls showed no sign of disbanding before the wee hours when all bad bears are apt to play up.

The diversity of talent on show at 34b tonight made us sure that only hope remained in Pandora’s Box as ever, as everything else had been let loose! We hope they’ll be back soon. We hope they will demonstrate what it is that is different about our antipodean ways with freshness. We hope they sail not just to America, but from Australia.

The word is out now. When they return take your mother and your father, discover their risqué side, but arrive early. When somebody laments the sartorial inelegance of the club set remind yourself that you know a place where the splendour reigns.