Nepentha is Milan’s nightclubs answer to Tramps or Annabel’s: an exclusive old-money club. It is possible for those that don’t qualify to get in, but take the wrong approach with the brutti bouncers and it can feel like purgatory (albeit surrounded by its habitués’ Ferraris and Porsches). Instead you can phone ahead, offer to buy a bottle or latch onto a fighetto (those to the palazzo born). It’s worth it for the spectacle inside. Cigars and champagne are on repeat order by men in blazers and shirts unbuttoned to new depths; women do the funky chicken in sequined cocktail dresses; all have Portofino permatans. It’s a small club with a sea-blue and solid wood interior, rather like the dining deck of a gin palace. The restaurant surrounds a small dance floor, which fills quickly to cheesy old favourites. Service can be rude, but that’s because they’re just not particularly interested in new faces and new money.