My train journey up north was a nervous one. A virgin to the Manchuniun side of the country, I had no idea what to expect except the ideas my friends had put in my head. "Oh, be careful", "Watch your wallet", "You will get punched" and "Oh, why?" were all quotes from my nearest and dearest that popped into my head as I pulled into Manchester Piccadilly.

Queue the 'cool' dingy old man's pub setting and the best new music on offer and my nerves were swiftly stamped on. Keys, Money, Lipstick is a weekly Friday party and if you are young, creative and hip then it's pretty much the place to get yourself down to. With vintage clad girls, Cansei de Ser Sexy pounding out of the speakers, cheap pints and well-attired boys it was just like any other night in London's East End although the only thing lacking was the unavoidable pretentious air often found in a London hotspot.

Ian Jones is the man responsible for the regular soiree and in his words "It's making something available for the people up here who want a laid back alternative to the usual swanky bars you find up north. People from London are under the illusion that there is no scene like this up here but there is and it's so popular" he explains of his ram-packed success of a club night.

It doesn't just end there either, Clique is another one of Ian's 'hot' nights. Once a month, Clique gathers up all the best looking youth and pushes them together for a night of glammed-up dancing and drink that may even be on its way to becoming fresher than some of London's most established nights. After meeting some of the friendliest, effortlessly fun people on my night of northern club fun, it might even be said that the care-free, 'give a shit' attitude adopted here is something London could do with too.