“It's all looking a bit ominous now,” said one of the quiet crowd gathered after work in London’s banking district. To uninitiated passersby the group was rather sedate, if a bit out of place. They didn’t look like the businessmen and women you usually find at Leadenhall Market. Each person in the cluster clutched a lumpy bin bag tightly in hand.



Those in the know understood that combat was imminent. They had been called here for a fight, a pillow fight, and they meant business. Few knew the organizers of the event, but information was disseminated from person to person, office to office through a viral email that swept through inboxes last week. Pillow Fight Club, which has staged events across the UK and as far as Stockholm, takes its cues from the movie Fight Club’s famous line, “The first rule of Fight Club: You do not talk about Fight Club”. The first rule of Pillow Fight Club? Tell everyone.

So why were people here in droves to pummel each other with their bedding? Chris Lane, one of the participants was rather upfront about his motives, “I came here for a bit of woman bashing. Its not every day you get to bash a woman.” His "friend" (though with friends like these who needs enemies?) Chloe Davis was similarly transparent: “I’ve always felt the need to beat these guys up.” She went on: “It’s a good opportunity to have a laugh in a city that is quite conservative.”

This was the predominant sentiment of the crowd, save a few self-proclaimed misogynists like Lane. Getting thwacked with a cushion is pretty funny.

At precisely 6.12 pm a cry of glee went up and hundreds of pillows were pulled from bin bag scabbards. Men, women, students and business people lashed out at each other with abandon, laughing ceaselessly—that is, until a combatant smacked the smile right off their face. There was injustice all around: An attractive girl cruelly lashed a young man near her, but saved herself from retaliation with a giggle. A trio of marauding 8-year-old girls, bashed everyone, but their size and blonde ringlets prevented the comeuppance they richly deserved.

Not everyone enjoyed such a bubble of safety. One man, realising he was being hit not by a cushy weapon, but by something rather denser, turned on his attacker with the furious accusation, “Hey! That’s a cushion from your sofa!” Young men predominated in loosely organized packs of mates who defended their friends one minute and then wheeled and smacked each other the next. One student, red in the face from exhaustion sat on the sidelines as the battle raged on. “I’ve got a concussion. I got hit by a girl in a suit. I was her afternoon stress reliever.” Wounded, this soldier would have gone in for more if there wasn't an essay waiting to be finished. “Its like you are with all your mates,” he said, gesturing to the crowd of hundreds, “but you don’t know anyone.”

The Pillow Fight Club melee was brutal, but it was joyful. As one onlooker mused: “This is how we should really fight wars.”

Ten minutes after the skirmish began a cheer went up, and the fighting stopped. Thirty seconds later everyone was at it again: they hadn’t had enough and did not stop or slow for another hour. Towards the end, the pillows had taken all the violence they could handle and one by one they ripped, pouring their innards onto the battlefield. Gusts of wind lifted the feathers high into the air above the fracas, flurries rained down on the strange assembly. Turning to a friend, a spent combatant said: “I knew it was going to be a white Christmas.”

If you missed this fight, make sure you're in the loop next time at www.mobile-clubbing.com

For an introduction into the world of flash mob fun look no further than www.flashmob.co.uk

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