09/12/10: If you went down to The Yard last week, you were sure of a big surprise… or five. Stagger down the cobbled street of Rupert and prepare to be smackgobbed by the gorgeous winter wonderland that is The Yard’s entrance. Sexier than your average Santa’s grotto, you’ll be greeted by hard-bodied bar boys rather than a white-bearded fatso gagging for you to sit on his knee (sorry gold diggers). But enough about the décor – what is this, Grand Designs? Last Thursday, we were more concerned with what awaited us upstairs – a plethora of mouth-watering, geezer-like English Lads. Straight, gay for pay, straight with a twist, gay after 6pm – who give a shit when they look like that! They’re also well-trained, horrendous flirts, and had the more moneyed gays clambering to scribble down their names on the silent auction… talk about handbags at dawn! First up, the VIP party saw free-loading press liggers, like yours truly, grasping as many free glasses of champers as our bony fingers would allow – not to mention a clutch purse full of smoked salmon blinis. But soon the floodgates were opened, and the downstairs massive stormed in to get a look at Zack Elliot and his fellow fellows flex and preen for the panting punters. After a fun-filled raffle superbly hosted by Andy J, the Englishlads mingled through the throng of tipsy revellers late into the night. Good night? Great fucking night! Can they come back for New Year?
The Yard, 57 Rupert Street, Soho, W1
Words by Lee Dalloway
Photos by Dos Fotos