Holy Molly's Galerie

The set turned dangerous about an hour ago and I found the darkest corner of the club to deal with it on my own terms. Tell me you'd have squeezed in next to me?

Kater's weekender finally let me go at first light and I'm walking it off the long way home — my heels lost their argument somewhere around the second bridge. Tell me you'd have carried me the rest of the way?

Hamam night at Panorama Bar pulled me in, so getting ready is officially part of the night now — half my wardrobe is on the bed and I'm somehow less dressed than when I started. Come pick for me?

Thirty-six hours of Kater Blau start tonight, so I'm building a proper base first — real breakfast, big pan, no shortcuts. This shirt was a towel's width away from not counting as dressed. Tell me what you'd cook me after instead?

Thirty-five years of Tresor and they're marking it with a New Faces night tonight — so my whole day is officially just the warm-up. Coffee first, decisions later. Tell me you'd still be standing next to me at the last drop?

The weekend's bass finally wore off, so my legs needed a new kind of burn — chalk on my hands and this route still refusing to say yes. Come spot me from the mats?

The choice made itself and I've been out here dancing since the first record — this dress was never built for an afternoon this warm. Come find me before they move everyone inside?

OXI's disco afternoon and Weekend's rooftop night are both pulling at me and I refuse to choose — so I'm stretching out first and pacing myself for both. Think I'll still be standing at the last drop?

Tonight's lineup made my decision for me, so now I'm crate-digging for something to warm the apartment up with first. Crouching this low in this dress is turning into its own kind of workout — tell me what you'd put on first?

First cold night this autumn and the biggest sweater I own still barely covers anything — but I'm too restless to care about sleeping anyway. Want to come keep me warm?