Ok, so I'm taking this opportunity to vent about last night. Every now and again I make the supreme effort to look Glam on a Wednesday night in order to go out, mingle and mix and generally be fabulous in the city so it was with high expectations that I prepared for StyleBible's Pre-Christmas party. Held in the newest private members club on the beat 'Eight' at Moorgate (confusingly, for my dearest J, not actually at No. 8 Moorgate Rd - an address that lead her to despair last night, rattling the chains that ominously locked the door of this totally unrelated property - not so confusing for me as I'd been to the press opening party a few months back), StyleBible's bash should have been wonderful. It had all the ingredients of a glamorous location, catwalk and vintage areas, manicurists and faux eyelash application experts on hand to make one feel fabulous and pampered. And yet. When I arrived with B and J the staff seemed so baffled by the guest list that we had to explain several times that yes, we are on the list and no, we don't need to buy a ticket - really quite embarrasing!! We also had to try and round up a member of the StyleBible team to get a hold of the little white tag that entitled us to a goody bag (which were admittedly pretty good - I'm a big fan of my new Tatty Devine acrylic Gilbert and George necklace!)
and believe me - StyleBible's people were hard to track down! When we eventually managed to corner one and pry three tickets from her little paws they were down to the last goodie bag! We crouched in the corner like ravenous thieves dividing up the loot, pawing through the remaining spoils. There were people who actually bought tickets to this event that didn't get the promised bags! They had 100 gift bags for an event they had sold 200 tickets to. Not good. But for me, the absolute kicker was the fact that there was no complentary alcohol!!!! Let me clue you in StyleBible - if you want me to buy more beautiful things than I can possibly afford the absolutely foolproof way of doing this is to stick some free champers into my hand! I'll start swiping my credit card through anything after the third glass!! I'M EASY!!! A SURE THING!!! JUST GET ME DRUNK AND I'LL REMORTGAGE TO GET MY HANDS ON THE PRETTIES!!!
So after two hours of mingling with a few incredibly pretentious people, drinking our £11 glasses of champagne (admittedly Tattinger) and realising that the two rather dishy men we were talking to were actually total liars (they insisted that they owned race horses, were 'very rich' (I mean, really!) and were from Newcastle only to later say they were from Wales and looked totally panicked when B, who is welsh, started talking to them about Wales) and waiting for manicures that were eventually timed out because the line was so long, we decided to cut our losses and find somewhere else to have our parting drink. Well.....Good intentions, lousy follow-through - ended up at Catch in Liverpool Street with a group of Canadian gold traders who plied us with Laurent-Perrier until I thought I would float away on a cloud of bubbles at 3am - so a satisfactory end to the evening after all. Especially as I now have a date with one of them next week!