I'm in a warehouse in the middle of the CBD, dancing like it's the last day of disco, surrounded by a sea of completely sober party-goers.

Some of them are on their way to work – their glitter and neon outfits belying the fact that in a few short hours they'll be sitting in an office, or looking after patients, or poring over spreadsheets.

Others are simply here for the exercise and the natural high: instead of hitting the gym or going for a run, they've opted to stomp their feet and pump their fists on a dance floor filled with disco balls and rainbow-coloured love hearts.

"It's just a really great way to start the day," says Eliza Revell, 25, who rocked up this morning with her friend Hannah Baguley, 23.

"The 5.30am wake up is a bit of a struggle, but it's worth it when you get here. It's so nice to see a collective of people doing something they really love and it's just really invigorating for the rest of the day."

Welcome to Morning Gloryville, a pre-work party that began in London in 2013 and has since spread to 23 cities, including Paris, Barcelona and New York.

There are no drugs, no alcohol, and no bad attitudes. In fact, the aim, according to the group's promotional material, is pretty simple: "to expand hearts and minds by turning clubbing culture upside down and transforming mornings into something truly remarkable."

Today, that transformation takes place down a laneway off Little Lonsdale Street, through an entrance labelled "the tunnel of love", in a room of about 300 people with one shared goal: to boogie, baby.

The party runs from 6.30am to 10am, and it's an impressive set-up. Roaming performers weave their way through the crowd; a small stand offers organic smoothies and raw bliss balls; yoga classes take place in a small room around the corner.

There's even face painting, massages and a "self appreciation station" adorned with hand-written affirmations on Post-It notes: "I am amazing, thank you for being you"; "Don't stop me now"; "Your smile makes me smile."

But it is on the dance floor, in front of the DJ, where the magic happens – where the music reaches a crescendo and you can feel the energy of the crowd lifting each time the beat drops.

A man in a multi-coloured shirt smiles infectiously as Stardust's club classic Music Sounds Better With You pumps through the speakers. A woman I've never met turns around to give me a hug, before shimmying off and doing the same to others.

And another woman, 60-year-old researcher Sue Malta, who is wearing a colourful feather boa and fairy wings, bops around effortlessly with her daughter Sam, 40, and her 20-year-old granddaughter Bonnie.

"I'm the oldest person here, I know, but I come to Morning Gloryville because I absolutely love to dance," Sue says. "Whenever I go off to work after I've been here, I feel so energised and so pumped. I get to work and I'm always wearing my costume and everyone thinks I'm mad – but they all get infected by it and we have such a fabulous day."

And that, precisely, is the point, says Eddie Fantastick, one of the party's organisers. This week's is the 13th Morning Gloryville to take place in Melbourne and – like the overseas events – the proceeds will go towards a chosen cause: in this case, marriage equality.

"I think the strength of Morning Gloryville is that it's multi-faceted. It's all ages, it's got great tunes, high-class yoga teachers, and it's a very open and attitude-free dance-floor," says Eddie. "People can just come here and feel safe."

A few hours later, the attitude-free dance floor gradually starts to clear as the crowd realises it's time to stop raving and start behaving – to get to the office, to university, to anywhere else in between. I grab my satchel from the cloak room and head towards State Parliament, to suit up and start work. After the party, reality always intervenes.