What happens in Sheffield stays in Sheffield… and so do my hair extensions. Ever since turning 18 in 2017 (time really does fly) I never really went out out. It wasn’t until the start of this year that I went to my first nightclub and boy was it an experience. Probably the worst night club you could go to for your first experience is one which has a heavy metal rock genre. Think of an old warehouse with music you can’t understand and clouds of smoke everywhere… and I absolutely loved it.
You know that tweet you see floating around every now and then with 1k retweets and 10k likes “who else prefers a night in watching Netflix and a cup of tea over clubbing every weekend” well 2017 & 2018 Ellie would’ve retweeted that knowing she’d hate stepping foot in a club. But 2019 Ellie is a changed girl who’d much rather be out drinking and getting shitfaced on a Saturday night. Of course, clubbing isn’t for everyone but me and my best friend have probably made the best memories from nights out.
I think the most tragic thing about my new love for clubbing comes down to the title of this blog post…the lost weave. You might’ve seen on my social media (Twitter and Insta) that me and my friend Simone went to Sheffield in February for a 2-night break away because quite frankly we needed it and was probably one of the best weekends ever.
Fast forward to the Saturday night of the trip when we decided to go to Popworld. If you’re an avid club-goer then you’ll know that Popworld is a chain nightclub in most big cities which plays proper cringe-worthy, cheesy hits. Trust me to go to a nightclub that I can go to 10 minutes away from home. But anyway it was actually freezing cold in the day time so you can imagine how cold it was at night when we had to walk to the club. I’d taken far too many outfit options with me including some skirts and a dress but because it was so cold I ended wearing a pair of black ripped jeans and the cutest pink bodysuit from Hollister. I think the jeans definitely balanced out the warmth of my body. I’d also recently been sent some hair extensions and thought why not wear them.
I mean realistically it was a successful night out. We got drunk, I got a drink poured over my head by a guy who proceeded to pick me up, wrap my legs around himself and kiss me and we got back to the hotel safe…Not necessarily in one piece because I fell over in the middle of the road but we were alive. I’m a lightweight and it doesn’t take me long to get smashed so drinking straight vodka in the hotel room before even getting to the club was the first mistake of the night.
When I woke up I had one earring in, 2 pieces left of my hair extensions and my necklace had snapped in half. Where the f*ck was my weave? I was so devastated when Simone had told me it had fallen out and onto the floor in the club and we kept walking past it but I was so smashed that I didn’t care that it was on the floor. This makes me wonder what sort of a mess I looked like with half my extensions in but it’s fine, not like I’m ever going to see any of those people again. A guy from Tinder recognised me in the club as well which was hilarious when my friend basically told him to fuck off cause he looked nothing like his Tinder pics.
So that’s the story of the lost weave. 2 months down the line and I’m still pretty heartbroken that I won’t have my gorgeous blonde locks again but at least I had a great time and if my weave was the price I had to pay then I don’t really mind.
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