Vera Green came highly recommended by Cath Berry as someone with a deep and colourful history in Manchester’s nightlife. From working behind the bar at the legendary Russell Club in Hulme during the late 70s to spending nights at the Reno Club in Moss Side, Vera’s memories shine a light on the places and people that shaped the city’s scene.
In this conversation, Vera shares her stories of working at the Russell Club on Friday nights while juggling a full-time job in advertising. She remembers the Factory Records crowd moving in — Tony Wilson, Alan Wise, Alan Erasmus, and others — though at the time she didn’t realise just how important those nights would become. She laughs about “nicking a couple of gins” while Joy Division played, and about being “too busy swearing at people behind the bar” to notice she was serving history in the making.
From there we follow her into the Reno and the Nile, key venues in Manchester’s Black community, and on to the gay scene at places like Sims and Dickens. Vera recalls the atmosphere of Moss Side’s shebeens — the danger, the energy, and the sense of freedom they offered. She’s clear: Manchester in the late 70s and early 80s was never boring — “there was bloody loads to do, you just had to step outside your comfort zone.”
Vera was also there at the Hacienda in its earliest days, when the club was still experimenting with karaoke nights, Bhangra nights, and even fashion parades. She and her friends would spend afternoons in the café on Oldham Street, head to the Midland Hotel for £1 champagne, and then wander down to Whitworth Street to see whatever was happening at the Hac.
She talks fondly about the Number 1 Club with its half-price drinks nights and wild themed parties — from Lily Savage performing before fame to a “washing night” complete with packets of detergent and a raffle for a washing machine. And she takes us into Dry Bar, Leroy Richardson’s pioneering venue that became everyone’s front room in the late 80s. Vera remembers the vodka fridge, her 40th birthday, even her mum happily sitting in the back with a bottle of Rioja, feeling safe in the middle of it all.
Along the way she reflects on living above the Arndale Centre at Cromford Court, when hardly anyone else lived in the city centre, and on how Manchester’s social fabric was stitched together by these clubs, bars, and characters.
This is more than just nightlife nostalgia — it’s a portrait of a woman who was there through it all, watching from her favourite “murky little corners,” with sharp humour and a keen eye for the people who made Manchester what it was.
Donate
Upload