OK, I'll try and explain this.
The Firm's dress code is so wide that a Japanese whaling fleet could slalom through it, beam to beam. We will let you in wearing any of
School, Public Service or Army Uniform (No MacDonalds, National Garden Festival or Tesco, that's just sick)
Evening Dress (at a push. Front of House always pay more attention to men in evening dress than in any other attire, strange but true)
Pony, Puppy or Piggy Gear (or any other Animal Play outfit you like, including Gibbons).
Any form of Domestic Servant
Period Costume (With the obvious exception of Tricorns, 1920's Flappers, and those stupid pudding basin haircuts of the 1470s that made such a comeback with teenagers a few years ago)
Surgeons, Nurses, Doctors, Hattie Jaques
Football Colours (only if homosexual, proof required)
Skinheads (only if homosexual, proof required)
Science Fiction (but not what Bruce Dern was wearing in Dark Star)
No Denim (OK, a controversial one, very popular with gay men, and I do recall Samantha Cooke looking drop-dead gorgeous in spray-on jeans in 1979, but it's such an opportunity for horrible men to just take their shirts off and come in harass women that we have reluctantly banned it)
Bus Drivers (only if Lesbian)
Which is another way of saying ‘If you can imagine doing SM in it, you can wear it', so why have it in the first place? Tricky question.
Well, it's like this. It takes a lot to stop a good SM party. They have been known to survive police visits, changes of location halfway through, and medical emergencies, but what can spoil things worse than a cup of cold sick down the back of your corset is obnoxious men out to gawp at the perves.
And before Mr McDermott gets on our case, it is always men. The phone rings, it's some geezer: "I see you're doing this Boat Party, only it's got a dress code... Well, I'm a member of Hedonism, they'll vouch for me..." Yeah, so for everyone else, it's a special occasion that they dress up for, make a bit of effort, but for you – you're a member of Hedonism – so obviously we'll waive the principle in your case. As if.
And what exactly is wearing slacks and a t-shirt going to achieve for you? Between you and the guy in the leather harness, who's going to score? It's going to be him, isn't it? Because he's made a considerable effort to look as good as possible, and you visibly don't give a fuck about other people; you're just out for as much as no effort will get you.
And don't get me wrong; that's fine – there are plenty of clubs who will cater for exactly what you want. You turn up straight from work, wearing whatever you like, and nubile young women will allow you to ogle, spank, even shag them, without any need on your part to learn style, good manners, conversation or intelligence. The important difference is that they will only doing it because you are paying them with money.
Just because we don't charge one tenth of what those clubs might does not make us a cut-price option: our parties are for players, not punters. The sum of money you pay at the door is the least part of your bargain with us: We work our bollocks off to make our parties look as good as possible, we won't let you in if you are trying to take the piss.
If you lie to our door staff, saying you have stuff to change into, when you haven't, we won't listen to any pathetic excuses about it being your first time, we will throw you out, and no, you don't get your money back.
If you want to debate these injustices, we suggest you go to a munch.