About Time

Where? At the Bells of Shoreditch, 48 Kingsland Road. Under the railway bridge, opposite the Bridge cafe/bar. Look for a dingy, dark front with chrome lettering. Prepare for a heavy pat-down at the door and torchlit bag search.

Music? Some classic R&B tracks such as Blackstreet's No Diggity and Music by Erick Sermon (feat Marvin Gaye) spin alongside the grimy Double Take by Girl Unit and Julio Bashmore's house track Battle For Middle You.

Fashion? Girls opt for short bodycon dresses, leather jackets and white pumps, while others rock Spandex leggings (the brighter and brasher the better – some Union Jack leggings were on show) with oversized blouses, cropped tops or baggy sweaters. Men's shirts were worn open over old band T-shirts and teamed with shorts and Converse on the more tomboyish girls. Guys combine shirts their dads would be proud of – smart and pressed with buttons (almost) all done up – with baggy jeans, Yankees caps and big white Vans. A few sport Aztec-patterned neon vests or sweaters with zipped hoodies and sports shorts.

Hair? Girls wear theirs long and loose or in tight top-knots. Guys have it short and neat, with one or two tight 'fros on show.

Drinking? Bottles of Corona, pints of beer and Coke with spirits.

Dancing? Early in the night a girl with a camouflage jacket, Nirvana T-shirt and loose afro hops up onto one of the tables, bouncing, swaying and singing along to Erykah Badu's Turn Me Away. Later on, everyone lets loose once a guy in a patterned sweater breaks the ice with some breakdancing.

Distinguishing marks? A fewpairs of large glasses with heavy frames (a nod to Tinie Tempah?) spotted on guys, while some girls sport thigh tattoos, including one depicting a string of musical notes.

Overheard Curvaceous girl with big earrings, slicked-back hair and tight dress says to her girlfriends, in all seriousness: "God I wish The Voice was still on. Tom Jones is just so sexy. He might be old but he is fiiiiine!"

Efes Pool Club & Bar

Where? On the left, just after Kingsland High Street turns into Stoke Newington Road. Look for a brightly lit, bouncer-flanked doorway that in all other circumstances you'd probably avoid. Expect a pat-down and bag search worthy of airport security.

Music? Retro dancefloor reliables such as Michael Jackson's Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough contrast nicely with a few post-dubstep tracks from SBTRKT.

Fashion? All black clothing with red lips is a popular look with the ladies - expect holey tights, lacey or sheer shirts worn with braces, chunky-heeled lace-up ankle boots and a feather-adorned fedora or two. Guys keep it toned down with blue jeans, Breton tops, plaid or denim shirts worn open over T-shirts with rolled-up sleeves, cigarette packets in breast pockets, and the occasional pair of walking boots.

Hair? Blokes with big beards and scruffy hair abound, while girls opt for dyed black, blue, red or peroxide blonde hair. Half-shaved heads with top knots aren't waning in popularity for either sex.

Drinking? Red Stripe, Red Bull, spirits and sodas. Don't ask for a pint – they don't have taps.

Dancing? A few shoulder bounces suffice for the dedicated drinkers at tables, whilst pool players go all out, putting their cues to one side, jumping around and punching the air in appreciation of Jay-Z and Kanye West's song of the moment, Niggas in Paris.

Distinguishing marks? Plenty of inked body parts on display, ranging from discreet words on wrists to a large underwater scene taking up the best part of a guy's neck and shoulders. Handbags, bright perspex jewellery and shiny clown-esque shoes feature on the more confident fellas, along with customised jackets – both punky leather (black and studded with COOL YOURSELF scribbled across the back) and light-hearted denim (with diamante-encrusted Mickey and Minnie Mouse scene on denim and a LET'S PARTY slogan) being sported.

Overheard Tall guy in leather jacket and shiny shoes to friend in denim shirt: "Mate, look how much of a douchebag that guy looks" (nods towards someone in a shellsuit). His friend: "Yeah … I've got friends that wear stuff like that. Wait, I know him! That's Rob!"

Dalston Superstore

Where? At the top of Kingsland High Street, opposite its better-known counterpart, Tesco Express. Crammed under an awning is a gaggle of 90s-clad twentysomethings sucking on roll-ups, and a couple of unimpressed bouncers. Expect a frisk and a bag search. Free until midnight, after which you'll pay £5 to get in, and receive a permanent-marker penis drawn on your hand as a receipt.

Music? Vintage dance tracks such as New Order's Blue Monday play alongside the more recent likes of 'Body Talk by Kevin McKay and Tiger & Woods' Gin Nation.

Fashion? Girls sport chunky gold jewellery, platform pumps and high-waisted trousers. Their sleeveless buttoned-up blouses have arm holes big enough for a walrus, showing off pretty lingerie underneath. White boys don their best Fresh Prince garb: backwards caps, vests, jeans with plaid shirts tied around the waist and old Nikes. Prepare to be bashed around by a few (probably empty) duffle backpacks.

Hair? Top knots rule OK here, with a plethora of variations on the theme by both sexes (double or single? High or low? Messy or neat? The possibilities are endless). Romy from the xx's boyish bowlcut is popular among the girls and many boys display a moustache – the "painter's brush" is having a heyday.

Smells like? A smoke machine. Every few minutes the smoke alarm goes off and the lights come up for a few seconds. No one seems to mind.

Drinking? Despite the variety of locally inspired (Hackney Iced Tea, East End Julep) and typically promiscuous (Pornstar Martini, The Whore's Handbag) cocktails on the menu, Peroni, Red Stripe and Kopparberg are the order of the day.

Dancing? Girl in a skimpy sailor outfit goes wild on hearing Red Alert by Basement Jaxx and does her best cheerleading, fist-pumping tour of the room before performing an imitation lap dance and dropping to the floor to give us all 20 press-ups. Energetic. Some Tecktonik dancing alongside ubiquitous pouting, finger-pointing, hip-rotating uncle-at-a-wedding moves (all in the name of irony, of course).

Distinguishing marks? A single Madonna-inspired Christian cross earring seen on both sexes. Septum piercings on guys and girls. Bird tattoos on forearms and word tattoos on wrists.

Overheard Girl with a dark red perm, towering in platform heels and dressed head-to-toe in black: "The problem with guys is that whenever I compliment them, they wanna, like, marry me, and I'm like, uh, woah? I just said you had a nice jacket, God!"

Silicon Drinkabout

Where? A meet-up for startup types, Silicon Drinkabout takes place every Friday night from 7pm til late at a different venue each week. No security on the door. Being to do with the internet, it's free.

Music? No DJ, just an iPod. Sounds not important; people are here to shake hands, not legs.

Fashion? The Zuckerberg approach to business dress: blazers over skinny Ts. Many leather jackets over hoodies. All sexes wearing large, Buddy Holly-style, black-rimmed spectacles.

Hair? Bed hair very popular. Lots of beards, possibly because it's three-quarters men.

Drinking? The Bourbon Mule, which is bourbon, ginger beer and lime or local-ish Not bad. Camden Hells lager. Bar snacks available to mitigate the chances of beer goggles-based business decisions.

Distinguishing marks? Seduction is in the air, yet not of the opposite sex, rather of investors. When a girl tells a guy she wants to "get into bed with some seed investors" she really doesn't mean anything by it.

Overheard? Young American man to anyone in earshot: "You guys can talk the age of Aquarius all you like, but I'm too busy making money to listen to that hippy shit."

Passing Clouds

Where? Richmond Road, down a side street, about 200 yards from Haggerston overground station. Feels slightly out of the way. Security on the door. No dress code. Doors 8pm-3am. Entry £5 before 10, £8 after.

Music? From Afro jazz-funk like Cyanide's Bra to Afro soul-reggae such as Lord Echo's Terabu.

Fashion? Facial hair and cloth caps on the men. Braided hair and tie-dye garments on the women. Older couples in white Jesus tunics. Converse All Stars in bright colours on everyone.

Drinking? Fairtrade beer, cider.

Dancing? Some "running man" motions of the legs to the beat while alternating bent-elbow fist-punches, left and right. Some grinding. People doing a lot with the hips.

Distinguishing marks? Chinese lanterns on the ceiling. An actual palm tree in the corner. Banner on the wall saying "Down with debt".

Overheard A man with a thick Russian accent to a girl of about 19 wearing pink tie-dye clothing with braided hair: "I think it's funny how pirates were always running around looking for treasure, but they never realised the real treasure was the magic moments they were creating."

Man in a tan silk shirt to a hipster girl with Buddy Holly glasses and a red woolly jumper: "You must think I'm this promiscuous guy or whatever, but I'm not like that at all. I've had those experiences before and they've always made me feel hollow and empty."

J'adore, J'adore at Vogue Fabrics

Where? 68 Stoke Newington Road, a couple of doors down from a big yellow off-licence. Look for a shop front with portraits of the Queen and Vogue spelled out across the bottom of the window, and a dark and dingy-looking doorway. Enter down the corridor into the bosom of a warm burst of heat, colourful wallpaper and a bespectacled cloakroom attendant.

Music? House anthems from yesteryear abound, with Son of a Gun by JX, Technotronic's Pump Up the Jam and E-zee Possee's Everything Starts with an E all getting a great reception.

Fashion? A wealth of outfits, especially on the men. One chap in a black patent leather sailor hat and a black one-shouldered leotard nonchalantly struts around in shiny stripper heels. Buddy Holly wannabes wear tight white T-shirts, glasses and jeans, and would-be Grayson Perry types are in whitened faces, brash make-up and women's clothes. A few indie boys wear trucker caps, checked shirts and shorts, or rolled-up jeans with brogues. A few girls wear baggy jeans and polo shirts with their collars popped, some fishnet tops, bright bras and denim cut-offs, while others look resplendent in vintage getup, with fur shawls, 1930s and 1960s-style dresses, heels, lashings of eyeliner and red lipstick all making an appearance.

Hair? Quiffs and semi-shaved heads on guys and girls, with dyed hair seen on some ladies, who wear it long or tied up under a headscarf, land girl-style. Some guys sport manicured stubble or a goatee, while others have 'taches in the style of the Village People cop, or Dali.

Smells like? Your tent at the end of a festival. Thankfully, the smells that assault your nostrils will fade into insignificance next to the cornucopia of exciting sights that unfold before thee.

Dancing? Expect some bouncy, outrageously flirtatious moves from fellas who manage to keep their shoulders back in an iron-rod straight posture. Gyration is key here, as are can-can kicks and big arm movements. This is what the phrase "throwing some shapes" was made for.

Distinguishing marks Many. Plenty of ear, nose or lip piercings. Novelty hats (sailor/cowboy/trucker). Glow-stick bracelets. One guy has red ski goggles strapped to his forehead, while a woman displays a huge flower tattoo on her chest. Men in women's clothing and heels should probably get a mention, too.

Overheard A woman in towering heels and long peroxide hair tells her short-haired, collar-popped friend about her relationship woes: "But she's a dyke, she's not supposed to get jealous when I talk to guys!" A tall man in trucker cap and tight shorts coos "Listen to your heart" in the ear of a younger, less extrovert guy in jeans and an open shirt.