Editor’s Note:
Jakarta’s nightlife scene has long been known for enforcing dress codes, particularly at upscale clubs, bars, hotel venues, and some fine dining restaurants. It is not uncommon for guests to be refused entry if management believes their attire does not meet venue standards. Dress code policies can be applied inconsistently and may vary significantly between establishments and even between staff members. The story below, originally written by Aida Greenbury and first published in The Jakarta Post, reflects one individual’s experience and observations of Jakarta’s nightlife scene at the time it was written.
Jenny took a deep breath while standing in a never-ending queue. She thought that the idea of going to the hottest dance club, located in a five-star hotel in Jakarta, on a Friday night was the silliest thing she had ever done. If it wasn’t for her dear friend Jade.
She had just given birth to her first child the previous month. As a fellow female, Jenny knew exactly how it feels to be stuck in a house—though pampered by everybody like a fragile sweet little thing (yikes!)—away from any clubbing, dancing or boozing temptations.
Half an hour later, when Jenny’s legs were throbbing unbearably and suffering from the worst pins and needles—thanks to her three-inch high-heeled shoes—they reached the entrance.
Two huge male bodyguards dressed in the hotel’s black uniforms, which were a tiny bit too small, blocked their way. One of the guys approached Jenny and whispered.
“I’m sorry, but we can’t let you in. The new regulation says that everyone who wishes to enter this club has to be properly dressed,” he said in a low voice.
It was too late for the bodyguard to realise that he had picked the wrong victim to mess around with. It took Jenny merely seconds to digest what she had heard before she exploded in anger.
“Not properly dressed? Are you blind or what? I can’t be more decently dressed than this!” yelled Jenny, glancing at her long pants and pink Guess top (okay, it was sleeveless).
“It’s not you, Miss—it’s her,” he replied nervously, pointing his finger to Jade.
Jenny looked at her friend. Like her, Jade was wrapped in long blue jeans with a cream-coloured top. It must have been the extra cleavage she had gained from breastfeeding her newborn baby; her neckline possibly looked a little too low. Not that any normal person would call it improper anyway!
At that stage, Jenny felt like screaming, “Can’t a mommy have some fun?” into the bodyguard’s ear. Instead, she gathered her coolness and said sternly:
“I’m not wasting my time with you. What’s your name again? I’ll make sure that your GM, whom I know very well, will be informed about how you treat his frequent customers. In fact, I’ll call him right now.”
Jenny and her friends were given permission to enter the club in no time. Obviously, her intimidation worked really well.
The club wasn’t quite packed yet since it was only 9 p.m. The crowds usually filled the room over the next half-hour and kept flowing until reaching the unbearable limit (as in being squashed within a flock of sheep).
The girls positioned themselves in the far corner of the bar and glanced around, only to find that they were probably the sexiest dressed ladies in the place.
But it wasn’t for long.
A few minutes later, the bar was swarmed by girls of all ages—some of them donned in tops more aptly described as bikinis.
Puzzled, Jenny looked at her friends who lifted their shoulders in reply.
Having her toes curled up after listening to the feminist ballad I Will Survive for the fifth time, Jenny excused herself to have a quick trip to the ladies room.
In the restroom, she looked around to find that the walls were covered with peculiar decorations. Sheer, long-sleeved tops, long pants, long skirts—they were hung on the toilet doors, walls, sinks, everywhere.
Then everything seemed clear to her.
Since a lot of dance clubs in town had temporarily closed down—due to irresponsible ransacking or workers’ strikes—a massive number of lightly dressed girls had apparently been using Jenny’s favourite place to hunt for clients.
Strangely enough (or perhaps not), these girls always dressed minimally to attract attention, especially from hotel guests in the lobby.
A week prior to Jenny’s arrival at the club, the management apparently had issued a new regulation that included dress code screening.
But it seemed those girls had outsmarted them by wearing shockingly revealing clothes beneath their modest attire.
This explained the mysterious bathroom decorations Jenny had seen.
Why not ID and credit card screening? It’s a more effective and polite way to protect nightclubs from being entered by social pariahs (if that’s what they’re afraid of).
And by the way, what’s the borderline between proper and improper outfits? Actually, how much skin do you have to show to be considered slutty?
On their way out, one of the bodyguards whispered to Jade:
“We wouldn’t have forbidden you to enter if you were with a bule guy.”
She laughed almost hysterically all the way to the lobby.
She had thought it was purely sexist, but now it seemed that it involved racism as well.
How could anybody tolerate this?
Please Jakarta, grow up!
By Aida Greenbury
Originally published in The Jakarta Post
