On a Wednesday afternoon in August, I shared a plate of three cheese quesadillas with Gail Porter in the back of Balans No.60. We reminisced about all the hours she’d spent celebrating Pride, her birthdays, and even winning a BAFTA, whilst cosied up in one of Balans’ banquettes.
How did you come to know Soho?
(Photo taken from Gail’s documentary, Being Gail Porter)
I went to Beaconsfield Film School because I wanted to be an editor and then I moved to West Herts Polytechnic, where I rented a granny flat from this lovely lady right opposite the college. Meanwhile, I just kept applying for jobs in London, one with The Comic Strip, which had Stephen Fry, Rick Mayall and Dawn French all very much involved. One time I came down to London to babysit for a friend of mine, and Peter Richardson, who owned The Comic Strip, was sitting in Groucho. I’d never been to Groucho, it seemed too posh for me. But I went up to him and introduced myself and he said, “Oh, my god, are you that girl that’s been sending us photos and weird letters?” And I went, “Yeah, that’s me. I’m not mad.” (When you say you’re not mad, you sound mad, of course). And then he said, “Well, our office is down there” and they invited me down to the office. “This is Gail Porter. She’s been sending us all this stuff” he told everyone, and they had some of my letters stuck up on the walls. I remember asking them, “Is this a good thing or a bad thing?” And they went, “Well, we thought you were a bit mad. Do you want a job?” So I ended up being a runner for them in Soho.
They took me on and I ended up going between babysitting, going back up to Scotland, coming back to London and taking on any little job that was going. Then I went for an audition for a kids’ TV programme as a presenter, which I never wanted to be. And I got the job right away after my first audition. I was 26. So that’s when I thought, well, I’m gonna have to live down here. So I lived in Kilburn for ages. But then I got burgled and everything was taken so I went to live with my ex, Keith in Essex. My ex was in a band called The Prodigy and we met in the late 90s on a blind date when I was working at Virgin Radio.
At the time, I was doing The Big Breakfast and Top of The Pops, so I was leaving his house at two o’clock in the morning to get to Big Breakfast. We had to go through the scripts, be live at seven, finish at nine, and then I was doing voiceovers. I’d have a sleep on a mate’s sofa in the afternoons and then on a Thursday, it’d be Top of The Pops till eleven, get back to Keith’s at midnight, AND back in the taxi at two in the morning. So then I said to Keith, I can’t keep going like this. It’s going to kill me – even being in my 20s. So I got a flat in Soho. I was just off Dufours Place on the 8th floor, all by myself. I loved it, it was so easy and I was there for a few years.
What does Soho mean to you?
Soho for me is my family in London, and it’s my safe place. Because people will say, “Oh my god, I bet Soho’s really dangerous.” I think in a big city like London anywhere can be dangerous, but if you know everybody it doesn’t feel like that. People are kind. I remember when I first moved here, I used to sleepwalk. I left my room in my flat on the eighth floor, and took the elevator to the ground. Walked out. And the bin men found me, and they woke me up. It was about three, four o’clock in the morning, and they said, “Gail, are you okay?” And they were so nice, wanting to check I was alright and getting me back into my flat. In those days everybody knew everyone.
If I ever went out for a coffee in the morning I would always see someone I knew. There was an Italian deli on Broadwick Street and I remember going in once and asking them if they had any big gherkins. They said no. I told them “I just do love a gherkin and I don’t have any in the house.” And then the next day, as I walked past they waved at me and said “I ‘ve got some for you.” So lovely, that’s just what they did.
What’s your most brilliantly bonkers memory of something that happened in Balans?
When my documentary won a BAFTA whilst I was here! I got the phone call during lockdown and we all had to watch the ceremony online. Balans had opened up during that week when we were all allowed out of our homes. So I brought my laptop and my friend Emma, and she said “You want to go to Balans don’t you?” I said, “Of course, it’s my home. They’ve got pictures of me on the wall on the way to the toilet and I’m not even dead yet!”
Anyway, we were sitting at the back of the restaurant watching the BAFTAs on my laptop and I went down to the toilet whilst they were announcing all these different things and then as I came back up, Emma was chatting to a lovely couple sitting next to us telling them I was up for a BAFTA. And as we were watching it we heard “The Winner is Gail Porter”. It was surreal.
How did you celebrate?
We just had more Prosecco! And then my daughter phoned me and said “Mum, have you just won a BAFTA for being mental!?” I went “Yeah, pretty much”. My BAFTA is in the front room on the mantelpiece to the side. All my neighbours have had it in their homes. I let everyone keep it for a bit. I took it up to the local Indian restaurant as well.
What sort of role has Balans played in your life?
I’ve been coming here since I was 24. It’s quite funny, because you guys were open 24/7 and my mum didn’t come to visit very often because she’s Scottish and doesn’t really like London. And she came in one morning, and I said, “I’ll take you to Balans, they do a great Eggs Benedict.” And of course, once we got here, there were people that had been out all night. And I’m big into my gay clubs, my Admiral Duncan, G-A-Y, and so when we came in here, everyone’s sort of vested up, and it’s about eight o’clock in the morning, and my mum went, “This is the happiest cafe I have ever seen.” And I thought, bless you, you don’t know that they’ve probably been out for about two nights. This place is open all the time. So she loved it here – “the best food and the happiest people!” We loved it. We’d rock up here at five o’clock in the morning sometimes and just get in. The more you come here, the more everyone will look out for you, especially if I was on my own and I couldn’t get a cab.
Right now I’m working with Prince William’s charity Homewards. One time I went to his house to have tea in the garden and after we’d finished discussing what was happening he asked me where I was off to next and I said I was coming to Balans (of course!) and asked him “Do you want to come?” And he went “Oh Gail. If I could I would, but I can’t do that sort of thing.” And I said, “Well if you want to, just give us a call. You’ve got my number!”
I brought my daughter here when she was little for Gay Pride, and we all stood at the back there, I think I was dressed as a nun, and she was dressed as a pink cowgirl, and they had seats all ready for us and everything. And so that was us for the afternoon, once we’d done Gay Pride.
My daughter loves it here. Especially the food. Last time we came she had the Full English and I asked for buttered toast with tomatoes. I’m not a big breakfast person, really, so it’s nice to bring friends here for breakfast because they do the whole thing. If my daughter Honey gets a full English, then I’ll take her mushrooms and tomatoes. So I get bits off everyone’s plates. And they always say, “Do you want a spare plate Gail? And I say “yes please!” Nibbling off everyone’s because I can’t choose. All the breakfast options are too nice.
This year we’re celebrating the 30th birthday of No.60 – how would you describe the Balans vibe in 3 words?
My second home.
What is it about Balans that keeps you coming back?
Because I suffer from ups and downs like everyone does, sometimes I’m not very good at sitting at home on my own. I think, oh my god, where would I go? And Balans is the sort of place that I know if I come here on my own, I won’t feel alone. Because everyone’s going to look after me and they’ll be extremely kind and lovely, and if I want something to eat, you know you can get something yummy and they don’t question you about why you’re on your own or if everything’s all right. And you know that you can chat away if you want. It just feels like, just as I say, it’s like home from home, and it feels like a really safe, happy place for me that cheers me up. Soho in general, cheers me up.
If you bring your friends here, you know that you’re going to make more friends. You’re going to chat to the table next to you, or you’re going to win a BAFTA, and everyone is going to go, “Yay! Let’s all just have loads of Prosecco! It’s just one of those places. A happy place. A safe and a very loving place to be. I understand that people move on work-wise, but you know that whoever’s going to be taking their job you’ll get to know them so quickly because they’re so friendly and want to introduce themselves and they really get to know you.
We expect to be around forever, but what would you miss if Balans was no longer there?
I literally wouldn’t know what to do if this place closed down. I’d miss everything. Having your little happy place is so important. I feel like Balans is a place where I can go and talk to people that don’t really want to talk to me, but they’re smiling anyway (but I’m sure they do want to talk to me). Please be around forever. Tell your big owner man that if I make a million, I’m in, I’ll buy some shares.
I go to Little Italy and Bar Italia, the 24-hour coffee shop. My friends own that place. They treat me like family. When I was skint and I was writing my first ever book, they used to let me go and sit upstairs, and they’d make sure I had something to eat even though I had no money, so I could go write there and then come here for a bit of a dance and a cuddle. I know I’ll always get a cuddle at Balans. I do get a cuddle at Little Italy, but here, they join in and you forget that everyone’s working.”Come on and sit down” I’ll tell the staff, but they have to remind me “we work!” “Oh yeah. Sorry about that. I forgot” I have to say.
Any final stand out moments?
I’ve had my birthday parties here, and it’s always been amazing, and I’ve been so well-looked after. The fact that my mum liked it was huge. Mum didn’t really like anything. And all my friends love it. It’s just a place that I know that I can just bring anyone. So I can’t give you one specific moment, because every time I come here, something great happens, or you meet someone lovely. I met the people who lived in the flat upstairs, and we’ve been friends for 20 years now. I’ve actually got people in my phone under the name such and such at Balans, because that’s where I met them
I can’t pinpoint one time and say that was the best time ever, because I’ve never had a bad time here. Never ever. And I never will!
Words by Claudine Collins (claudinecollins@hotmail.co.uk)