In 1995 I was breakfasting, at 2.30pm, with the "King of the Clubs" at his apartment next to Stringfellows itself. He was in his dressing gown but planning his day. "After this egg I probably won't eat anything again until tonight, at my club," he noted. "In the evening my girlfriend will be at a debate in Greenwich called 'Rock Girls and Bisexuality' or something. Which is annoying me because we dine at 10pm but she can't make it until 11."

A rather stern phone call followed in which he exclaimed: "Two ballerinas are coming!" and "I won't be eating again at 4.30am tonight, Frisbee. Because I need to be in bed at 4am. Why? Because I'm debating at the Cambridge Union tomorrow."

Stringfellow had other frustrations, such as two years spent trying to get a licence for his "very tasteful" table-dancing venture. Worse, his "Old Guard" of celebrities was increasingly avoiding alcohol. It pained him if Julian Lennon was in London but didn't visit Stringfellows. "At his 17th birthday party he was presented with a white horse at my club. I'll always remember because it did its business on the edge of the bar. Julian was like a son to me and I named a drink after him – the Blue Julian."

Offering a post-breakfast vodka, Stringfellow admitted: "I often ask myself, 'Who's left to drink with me, apart from Tom Jones?' So many party animals have hit the wall. Ronnie Wood now drinks Guinness, for God's sake. And I thought Charlie Sheen was my party buddy, but then he came in and ordered water. Robert Downey Jr drank little. I said, 'Rob, please, what's going on?'

"And Mel Gibson came in and even he was on water. That would have been a really tough night if I hadn't discovered he does amateur magic."