90 ·^ COSMOPOLITAN
used to experiment, letting
in those who she had doubts
about. “I’d almost always
have to kick them back out
again for being rude to the
staff,” she says. “It would
remind me to trust myself.”
But mistakes happen. And if
you’re turned away, the best
thing you can do is handle it
well. Saskia recalls rejecting
a larger group who politely
said, “We’re really unhappy
as we’ve wanted to come
here for years. But
thank you for
considering us, have a
nice night.” They then
walked away calmly.
Appreciating this, she
chased after them,
invited them in and
bought them a round.
But for every group
who walks away
calmly, there’s another
who thinks they can
threaten their way
inside. All the bouncers
I spoke to have
experienced violence
- from the time that
Esther was punched to
Eli having to barricade
herself and her staff
inside while a mob
hurled stones at them.
Incidents like this are
rare but the insults
are endless. And no
amount of training can
prepare you for the
impact of being called
a “bitch” (and much worse)
night after night. Both Eli
and Saskia scaled back their
hours as a result. “I began
to lose all empathy,” says Eli,
“I started work pissed off.”
Saskia found she was getting
angrier in her daily life.
Esther, at some points, was
afraid to walk to the club,
taking taxis to avoid being
recognised. “It felt like the
more I was at the door,
the more bad situations
occurred. I felt tired and
empty.” She reflected on her
life and wondered: “Was all
I did ruin people’s fun?”
Sugar and spice
From the moment we are
born, there’s an expectation
placed firmly on women’s
shoulders to be “nice”. To
their outfits or pose for
selfies. Those in high
heels areoften turned
away – their footwear
a sign that they don’t
plan on dancing much.
Most prepare for a
night out in Berlin as
if they are going on an
expedition: donning
trainers and putting
hoodies in their
backpacks. The parties
can last anything from
12 hours to three days
- thanks to licensing
laws that don’t set
a closing time. The
sound systems are
overpowering and
sex is in the air: some
places have hidden
rooms where people
can sneak off and do
whatever they want.
But in the legendary
S&M KitKatClub,
there’s no need for
secret rooms – that’s
what the dancefloors are
for. Most people hold
half-empty beer bottles,
water or energy drinks –
few down spirits. A desire
to keep going as long as
possible and a drinking
culture that isn’t “who can
get absolutely hammered
quickest” means that
clubbers are respectful.
But one thing is not
tolerated: photos. If you’re
caught taking a picture,
you’re thrown out within
seconds. It’s so strictly
prohibited that those at
the door put stickers over
people’s phone cameras.
It doesn’t take long for
Alina to decide who gets in.
Each of the women I spoke
to unanimously agreed that
they make decisions based
on one thing: their gut
feeling. But this can be
hard to explain. “You can’t
tell guests, ‘So it’s my
personal feeling [that]
you’re not for the crowd,
bye!’ but that’s really how
it goes,” explains Saskia.
Esther says she sometimes
tests people by asking
them to crack jokes about
themselves. “I want to see if
they can be self-deprecating,”
she says. “I was always the
biggest bitch to those I’d
end up letting in, but I was
super-friendly to the people
I rejected. I’d say, ‘You’re
looking too good for this
place, this other club seems
to suit your style more.’”
Learning to trust your
gut instinct can be tough,
and take years to master. Eli
Esther would
reject people
to keep the
space safe
“We keep
the magic
unbroken
- and that
has a cost”
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