TWENTY-NINE is a beautiful thing. It’s the last birthday in the decade we come of age.
Technically, it’s still a youthful figure, but you have the hindsight of a decade’s worth of growing up behind you.
The only dilemma, really, is how do you celebrate such an abstract anniversary.
With 30 looming on the horizon you can’t host a blow-out party, and the days of sweaty bodies pressed against you on an overcrowded dancefloor just seems sad.
The solution has to be chic and stylish. So praise was given to the baby Jesus when I recalled Hyde Out.
Tucked neatly off Fountainbridge in the glory of the newly regenerated canal quarter, there is a bar fitting for a lady of said vintage.
It’s a clever little place that makes you feel instantly at home.
When I say home, I mean your dream abode – and with open-plan spaces, soft luxurious fixtures and floor-to-ceiling windows, it has it all. The “all” being a decked roof terrace with water views.
Upstairs the fantasy gets even sweeter. Four sofas appear to be set inside large guided frames.
If you let your mind wander you begin to envisage each booth as mini walk-in wardrobes.
I wonder if I could talk the team into gaining a lodger.