Tel Aviv fun cartoon 521.
(photo credit: Deborah Danan)
One of the things I love about Tel Aviv is that as a female of the species,
every so often I get the chance to indulge in my girly side and play dress-up.
That’s not to say dressing up for a Thursday night in Jerusalem can’t be fun.
While the proclaimed center of the world might not be the center of the fashion
world, it’s still about the only place that I can get away matching overwashed,
psychedelic lunghis purchased in Goa with funky, threadbare neon earmuffs and
Problem is, on those rare occasions when I used to
fancy going the whole hog and getting out the bling and four-inch heels, I
always felt like a fool in Jerusalem. In Jerusalem, you get funny looks if you
so much as put on eye-shadow for a big night out. Unless, of course, you team it
with aforementioned earmuffs in an attempt to look “ironic.” If you look nice
just for the sake of looking nice, you risk being the recipient of evil glares
that clearly say “arsit” or “freha” (the Hebrew equivalents of “white trash.”) But in Tel Aviv anything goes. People aren’t fazed by being spotted wearing a
pair of slippers that double as walking-the-dog shoes, and by the same token
it’s totally acceptable to be wearing heels and a full face of makeup while
walking the dog. And as someone who likes to experiment with fashion, this works
for me. Nothing over the top, mind, just a “Save water, drink beer” T-shirt
coupled with a knee-length tailored jacket and a fire-engine-red wig. Just
enough so the fashion-forward regulars at Dizengoff Center can point and say,
“Honey, you have style.”
But I think even I went a bit too far when I
turned up an underground party in South Tel Aviv wearing a button- down shirt,
cream business suit and sensible, beige flats. Oh yes, did I mention that the
event was a toga party? And this time I wasn’t dressed in office chic to be
“ironic,” I’d actually come straight from an important day at work.
yet, even in a Grecian-themed, Tel Avivian party – where people wore little more
than a sheet wrapped creatively around their body and some sandals from the Arab
market – no one raised an eyebrow at my Marks & Spencer pumps. That’s South
Tel Aviv for you.
The party was located in the Living Room, a cool
hideout on the eighth floor of some office building that you have to walk
through about three dodgy neighborhoods to get to.
This brings me neatly
to my second topic of the week: Tel Aviv nightlife. A rather broad subject – and
no doubt I’ve not lived here long enough to be deemed an expert on it – but
nonetheless, I’ve been out enough to fill at least a few column
Back in the day, leaving Jerusalem for a night out in Tel Aviv
was usually in honor of some guests from overseas and invariably we’d end up in
one of the many bars and clubs that line the area by the port, known as Namal
Tel Aviv. In the summer, the place is teeming with local and international
revelers that wear enough bling to support a small African nation. However,
these days the Namal is sort of like an aging actress who’s lost her sparkle. Or
perhaps it’s me that’s aging. Either way, bopping to Sarit Hadad while being
blinded by strobes just ain’t my idea of fun anymore.
But neither are the
partying activities that some of my fellow expats choose to partake in my idea
of fun. The Anglo community in Tel Aviv is rather into house parties, I notice.
And it’s always hit-or-miss with these affairs. They’re often on the roof of
some apartment building in which reside three American/Brits/South Africans/
Aussies/fill-in-the-blank, and they’re more often than not BYOB (bring your own
The kind I hate. Because no one ever remembers to buy
alcohol before the 11 p.m. watershed and then you’re stuck drinking whatever’s
to be had at the party – usually some cheap, ethane-smelling beverage of Russian
And to top it off, despite the pumping music – courtesy of the
host’s disk-jockeying hobby – hardly anyone ever dances at these parties. You’re
usually just stuck in some dull conversation with an even duller stranger about
when you made aliya and what you do for a living.
Honestly, I don’t
remember a single time in Jerusalem I was ever made to answer those questions
while at a roof party. In Jerusalem, you can be sure that people are waaaay too
busy dancing like elephants in a ballet class to be even thinking about
small-talk. Heck, us Jerusalemites will be busy celebrating the fact that it’s
even warm enough to throw a party on the roof.
But back to Tel Aviv
nightlife: Another common night out I detest is what I like to call
This is where you go to a fancy bar with some
funky, new-age name like Freedom – any bars along the Dizengoff or Rothschild
stretches will do – and you stand outside on the street like mannequins in a
cordoned-off section drinking overpriced beer. It always occurs to me how dumb
people look in those bars when they could just as easily buy a beer at half the
price and sit on a bench outside the local AM/PM across the road.
you want to actually go inside the bar, be warned that the music is far too loud
to hold a proper conversation, and yet curiously once again no one seems to be
But, as I’ve mentioned in previous articles, in Tel Aviv, if you
haven’t found it, it simply means you haven’t looked hard enough, and the same
is true for decent bars. There are some great local dives that remind me of
Jerusalem bars with their chilled-out, no-fuss-or-frills attitude. One such
establishment is the Minzar Bar by the Carmel Market, a bohemian spot favored by
artists and musicians where the beers are still proportionately priced. Or the
Dancing Camel, a fabulous craft beer brewpub and a place where you can chill
with a top-grade, coffee-flavored beer while listening to live
There are also some good watering holes in the Florentin area, the
hippie neighborhood where all the ex-Jerusalemites seem to
Sometimes it’s better to find out what’s going on in different
locales on any given night of the week. Monday night in Bar Giora is
open-mike night, and whoever cheers on the musicians the loudest is rewarded
with free shots. The place distinctly lacks any of the “posa” – pose, or snobby
attitude – so prevalent in many of Tel Aviv’s bars, and makes for a great night
out if you have musical friends who like to jam and who don’t need to wake up in
the morning for work on Tuesdays.
And then of course there is Tel Aviv’s
massive underground scene. Fans of electronica, dub-step or drum and bass can
find plenty of parties around the city held in places like the aforementioned
Living Room. Often, you might feel like you’re partaking in a scavenger hunt
just to find the place, and when you finally get there you may only be able to
get past the bouncer by uttering the secret password or by showing him the
exclusive text message you received in lieu of an invitation.
last word of advice: If you’re going on a night out straight from work, make
sure to carry a bedsheet and some safety pins in your handbag just in case the
text message mentions that it’s a toga party.
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