Awe-stricken fashion forward "Chelseaites" groove into the Kubrick-like futuristic Space Odyssey gem that is Mamilanji. The neon-lit zen interior immediately intoxicates bringing out voyeuristic instincts. In an age when denizens of boites are grappling with ill-décor. The zip codes of SW3, 7 and 10 are already magnetically being pulled to this blissful dance sanctuary.

Mamilanji is stealing the thunder from other lounge lizard Kings Road retreats. A selective entry criterion sagaciously veers the club towards a members-only repertoire. Add to this generous a helping of sun-drenched Eurocats with their sky scraping heals on a steady diet of designer-label consumption.

Mamilanji injects a long-overdue jagged spark of originality and uniqueness to a heavily banal clubbing industry. The minimalist-chic interior genre is a fresh spin. In terms of service, design, décor and ambience Mamilanji is quantum leaps ahead.

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