Debonair Social Club: Neither debonair, nor social, nor a club.

Oh dear! I wasted time, money and dignity on the Debonair Social Club, located in Wicker Park at 1575 N. Miluakee Ave, this weekend.

Never has there ever been a place filled with more hipster hot mess than this lackluster bar that costs $5 too much to get in the door.

Usually when I pay a cover charge I expect to enter a sexy club with hot 20-somethings. I expect to feel young, beautiful and be surrounded by a club that makes me ooh and ahh. Well, this is just not the case with Debonair. Instead, I felt ridiculously out of place. I am only 22 but Debonair made me feel old and had me wondering if I had just walked into an underage discotheque: A bunch of barely legal kids and a few slutty-looking cougars were getting sloppy drunk and dancing poorly on a cramped dance floor.

Strike one.

Example #1 of an underaged, bad-dancing hipster that can be found at Debonair

Tim and I decided to grab a few drinks at the bar and waited for a few minutes before a bartender shouted over the eardrum-bleeding house techno to get out orders. Tim ordered and we waited for another five minutes, until we realised that our Debonairhead bartender had not even started making our drinks. When Tim enquired about where our order was, the guy acted like he never heard our order in the first place. We had to wait five more minutes for drinks.

Strike two.

After attempting to dance it out on the elevated stage, Tim and I found ourselves sandwiched between horny teens making out and young men who I can only describe as “dudes” throwing their bodies into one other. After a few songs we gave up and retired to a corner table. This is when I noticed the décor.

To keep it tacky, Debonair has proudly hung projector screens on the walls, which play slow-motion bondage videos (no nudity) intermittently with pictures of rosaries. This is not artsy or forward-thinking; it is just stupid.

Strike three.

Ugh Debonair. I could not wait to get out and I will never go back.

I leave you now with a picture of a sleepy hipster douchebag who decided to hunker down at our table to take…a nap. If Debonair was really debonair, they should have kicked this guy out but they didn’t. Further proof that Debonair Social Club is neither debonair, nor social, nor a club.

Dev xx