Located in London’s world famous Stables Market, Cyberdog is a headtrip for ravers. On any given day, loud techno/ trance blares forth from this repository of underground culture shamelessly pimped out for profit. Though it’s somewhat out of sorts with its surroundings, Cyberdog ain’t that bad. The entranceway being famously flanked by two gigantic robots certainly adds to the attraction, not to mention the gyrating dancers who grace the ramparts every Saturday. Of course that only serves to draw the insatiably curious inside to see more, and that’s when jaws drop. Visiting Cyberdog is much like falling down a rabbit hole into a fluorescent Wonderland of never-ending rave induced delirium. Life-sized ladybots and manbots line walls on the upper level, gazing at passersby with creepy glowing eyes, but no-one seems to mind. While groups of guys gape upward at the dancing cybercuties, we head down the escalators to the lower level, where the real fun’s to be had.
The layout is pristine to the point of sterility, as cybergear hangs off Cyberdog’s bespoke hangers. A DJ bearing an uncanny resemblance to Keith Flint serves up beats behind turntables, while employees roam about dressed like raver dandies. Damn, this is incredible! I whipped out the camera but am swiftly approached by an employee who politely informs me that picture taking is not allowed. What a drag…anyway, there are all kinds of cool gadgets, clothing, jewellery, accessories and toys that would make any raver squeal with delight. Glow in the dark piggy banks and Pac Man mints for £10 makes Tibetan incense look like an enticing alternative. Small stuff is expensive here. So’s the cybergear. Though I have to admit PVC catsuits ain’t my style, someone who doesn’t mind asphyxiating their pores for extended periods of time will definitely buy them. My personal fave are their UV reactive T-shirts and T dresses priced from around £30. Cyberdog even has a blacklight clothing line for babies. All those cute little overpriced tees and jumpers…immediately I start fantasizing about my future babe, stumbling around in one of those numbers, then I remind myself of all the freedom I have now! That snaps me right out of my daydream in a jiffy. My marketmates are bouncing the hell out of some glo-balls that light up when they hit the floor, so I decide to have fun with those too.
Next up: the basement. Now this is where things start to get a little freaky. Of all things, there’s a sex shop down here, stocked with dildos, lube, racy outfits and more. All in good taste of course; there’s nothing cheesy or remotely sleazy about this joint. The creative minds behind this carefully mapped out enterprise have done their homework. Cyberdog initially started out as an independent stall specializing in goa style merchandise, and has since morphed into a rave superstore franchise, with shops in Brighton, Manchester and Ibiza Town. What sets them apart from other rave themed retailers is their eponymous clothing line and ubiquitous branding strategy. Irregardless of what your tastes are, if you’re into underground culture, Cyberdog has something for everyone. Odds of leaving emptyhanded: 1 in 500,000.
Can’t take the tube there? Fret not. Get your cyberfreak on at www.cyberdog.net
Copyright © 2012 Frankie Diamond. All rights reserved. Excerpts of less than 200 words may be published to another site, including a link back to the original article. This article may not be reproduced in its entirety and posted to another site without the express permission of the author.