When Did We All Become Café Girls?

When Being Out Was the Whole Point

There was a time when partying wasn’t a weekend activity. It was a social calendar.

For me, it started on Wednesdays with girls’ nights, moved on to Thursdays with Chandni Bar nights and then rolled straight into the weekend. This was also a time when Mumbai actually partied till 3 a.m., and nobody seemed to think four nights out of the house was an unreasonable way to live.

In your twenties, being out wasn’t just about having fun. It was about being the IT girl. Being cool. Being seen at the right places with the right people. And, of course, meeting random boys who would flirt with you like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Nobody had to teach us how to go out. You just went. Loud music, terrible lighting, a packed dance floor and the possibility that the night might lead somewhere interesting were apparently all the encouragement we needed.

And somehow, waking up the next morning was still not a task. Metabolism kept up with the crazy schedules you were trying to maintain, your body recovered from things much faster and a night of bad decisions could apparently be fixed with very little sleep and absolutely no self-reflection.

Maybe that’s the difference. Back then, noise was often about drowning yourself out rather than discovering yourself.

Then, Somehow, You Start Listening

The funny thing about all that noise eventually drowning out is that you start hearing your own heart and mind.

For me personally, I realised that I actually like the company of myself. I like the quiet of my own mind. Coffee with a book and music in my earphones started making me happier than aching footpads and a hurting lumbar. A caffeine high came with far fewer repercussions than vodka cranberry, and my hair, skin and lungs thanked me for not spending four nights a week in a smoke chamber laced with nicotine.

And perhaps this is where the café girl begins.

Not because you suddenly wake up and decide that you hate partying, but because the things you enjoy slowly start changing. If you’re anything like me, you start valuing your health over the need to be seen at cool places. You actually start caring less about what people think, and with that comes the rather liberating realisation that you don’t need to put yourself through trauma just to have a social life.

Although, let’s be clear, the trauma isn’t entirely emotional. Sometimes it’s just four hours in heels.

The Party Girl Doesn’t Disappear Overnight

And that’s not the only reason you eventually stop being a party girl.

At some point, the burning sensation of a Kamikaze stops being fun. You start caring about what you put into your body and, when you get those few calories to enjoy, you want to consume something you’re actually going to remember. Not something you’re going to experience through a drunken haze and reconstruct from Instagram stories the next morning.

You start choosing differently.

A good cocktail can still be a good cocktail, but so can a cold brew. A night out can still be fun, but suddenly you’re wondering whether you really need to be there. A random Wednesday used to feel like a perfectly legitimate excuse to drink. Now, you might have dinner at home, read a book and go to bed early—and genuinely enjoy yourself.

This isn’t because we’ve become boring. If anything, I think we have just become less interested in pretending to enjoy things because we think we’re supposed to.

Partying had a social value when we were younger. Being invited somewhere mattered. Being seen somewhere mattered. You wanted to have plans. You wanted people to know you had plans. You wanted your social life to look like a social life.

Eventually, you realise there are other ways to have one.

Self-Preservation Eventually Kicks In

I still like a party. I still enjoy dressing up, drinking, dancing and occasionally making the sort of decisions that make the next morning slightly inconvenient.

But I no longer need it every week.

Somewhere along the way, self-preservation kicks in. You start listening to your body, caring about your health and choosing what genuinely makes you happy over what looks cool from the outside.

And before you know it, the party girl has hung up her heels.

Not permanently, obviously. Let’s not get carried away.

But perhaps long enough to discover the comfort of Birkenstocks, the quiet of a café and the unexpected solace of a really good cold brew.

Maybe we didn’t all become café girls because we got older.

Maybe we just finally got comfortable enough to admit that a good time doesn’t always have to be loud.