Blitz: The club that shaped the 80s at the Design Museum
Who remembers Blitz, the nightclub that burned brightly and briefly in Covent Garden between 1979 and 1980? Although it lasted only 18 months, Blitz became the crucible of an entire aesthetic, a place where music, fashion and art fused into something glamorous, outrageous and enduring. For those who were there, the club was a revelation, a source of liberation. For those who were not, the Design Museum now presents a careful reconstruction of a scene that went on to shape generations of creative work.
The roll call of Blitz regulars now reads like a catalogue of the decade’s emerging talent. Boy George, Spandau Ballet and Visage all emerged from its small rooms. Stephen Jones, who would become one of couture’s leading milliners, found his footing there, as did Michele Clapton, later known for the costumes of Game of Thrones. DJ and fashion writer Princess Julia was also part of the crowd, alongside BBC broadcaster Robert Elms. The list continues.
That such a short-lived club could send aftershocks through music, fashion, art, and design speaks to the intensity of its atmosphere. The Design Museum, working closely with surviving Blitz Kids, has gathered roughly 250 items. Clothing and accessories sit alongside design sketches, musical instruments, furniture, magazines, artwork, photography, vinyl records and rare film footage. Many of these objects have been drawn directly from personal collections and have never before been exhibited. Danielle Thom, the curator, has approached the project like an archaeologist, unearthing relics that reveal not only what Blitz looked like but also what it felt like to belong to it. The exhibition is at its most evocative in the little details. Invitations to parties, a Blitz matchbook, Sobranie cocktail cigarettes, a menu and handwritten notes recall the essence of the club more intimately than the larger artefacts.
It begins with a Snapchat screen that allows visitors to take a selfie and reimagine themselves as a Blitz Kid, complete with flamboyant hair and clothing. The results are not entirely convincing, but the gesture speaks to the immersive spirit of the show. The atmosphere is sensorial. Dark lighting, music, textured fabrics and archival video create a layered impression of the club. Old telephones, repurposed to play recorded messages from Blitz regulars, feel unexpectedly touching, as if the voices were still in the room.
The curatorial effort brilliantly re-situates Blitz within its cultural moment. By the late 70s, punk had become increasingly commercialised. Blitz, by contrast, drew on a different constellation of influences: the soul scene, Weimar-era Germany, film noir, European arthouse cinema and the restless currents of London’s art schools. Music was central, but the club was above all a visual space. Every Blitz Kid cultivated a distinctive look, yet no two resembled one another. Styles ranged from historical romance to futuristic fantasy, assembled from charity shops, borrowed from designer friends, or pulled from theatrical wardrobes. Among the objects on display are a robe and chemise dress designed by BodyMap’s David Holah for makeup artist Lesley Chilkes, its fabric still marked by cigarette burns and wine stains, and a biker cap purchased from a Soho sex shop by St Martin’s student Fiona Dealey, later reworked into a full leather ensemble by fellow student Stephen Jones. There are also many other remarkable objects that are sure to captivate, from the first issues of The Face to the 1970s synthesiser Spandau Ballet used to record their debut album.
Toward the end, visitors step into a partial reconstruction of the Blitz club. Beer bottles are scattered across the room, the lights are low, and a dance floor pulses to DJ Rusty Egan’s pioneering playlist. The right artefacts are in place, yet the energy never quite comes alive. What emerges instead is the recognition that Blitz was too singular to be fully recreated – though this show succeeds in gathering enough of its traces to suggest what it once was, and why, in many ways, it can never be again.
Following the National Portrait Gallery’s show on The Face magazine and Tate Modern’s survey of Leigh Bowery, it is clear that there is a renewed fascination with the 1980s – perhaps because those were years of unfiltered fun, before phones and social media, fuelled by pure youthful energy. Even for those with no memory of Blitz or the decade, this show evokes a sense of nostalgia, offering a vivid snapshot of a world now lost. Lovers of music, art, design, fashion and all the “cool kids” are sure to have a good time.
Constance Ayrton
Photo: Outside the Blitz club in 1979. Photo by Sheila Rock
Blitz: The club that shaped the 80s is at from 20th September 2025 until 29th March 2026. For further information or to book, visit the exhibition’s website here.
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