Stitch Bar, Sydney, Australia
The doors of Stitch were wide, wide open – so we* slipped right in.
Actually, wide open might be a bit of an exaggeration because the doorway of Stitch Bar is actually a haberdashery shop front, complete with a rack of clothes. Oh, and a dark mysterious man playing the electric guitar. (Yes, really. We later find out he’s security.)
Despite feeling like, so not hip enough to walk into this bar, we pushed forward through the doorway. As we descend down the darkened stairs, I spotted 20 or so vintage Singer sewing machines holding the bar up. Very clever. If I didn’t know better (and if there wasn’t Johnny Cash blasting from the speakers) I’d have thought I had just walked into my grandmother’s sitting room. But Nan didn’t own multiple sewing machines and she certainly wasn’t a Johnny Cash fan. She was a fan of the lampshade though, as are the owners of Stitch, with many vintage-style light covers softening the glow around the bar.