A public appeal from novelist Zadie Smith in the New York Review of Books.
“I am especially interested to hear from anyone who happened to be in the Fabric club, near the old Smithfield meat market, on a night sometime in the year 1999 (I’m sorry I can’t be more specific) when the DJ mixed Can I Kick It? and then Smells Like Teen Spirit into the deep house track he had been seeming to play exclusively for the previous four hours.
I myself was wandering out of the cavernous unisex toilets wishing I could find my friend Sarah, or if not her, my friend Warren, or if not him, anyone who would take pity on a girl who had taken and was about to come up on ecstasy and who had lost everyone and everything, including her handbag.”
Can any clubber help jog Zadie’s memory? Or return her handbag?
