White Mischief's Eve of Tomorrow Ball promised so much, but actually turned out to be less of a glorious firework-burst of joy and party times, more of a damp squib of disappointment. The super secret venue turned out to be none other than the Bloomsbury Ballroom, venue for the Chap Ball a few weeks previously. A glorious and glamorous venue, no doubt about that; but the difference here was that it was not filled with dozens of my dear friends and acquaintances. Still, we were there and determined to enjoy it!
The night began auspiciously.We all got ready at Bethan's and I had decided to recycle my bird gown from the Chap Ball, and my lights from the New Sheridan party, with the braid from my Halloween Frida Kahlo outfit. It all went together with minimal headaches, and we soon set off for the party.
Following a minor mishap with Jeni's shoe (see her blog), we arrived at around 11pm, only to be faced with a long queue snaking around the doors. Well that simply wouldn't do, so we marched up to the doorman and used our feminine wiles and powers of persuasion on him. It went something like this.
Fleur: Hello. We're on the guest list. Please can we go straight in?
Man: I'm afraid not, you'll have to join the queue.
Bethan: Don't you remember me? I organised the Chap Ball a few weeks back. Please can we come in?
Man: Oh yes! Yes, that was great. You were great. But no, sorry, it's the queue for you.
F: But I'm reviewing the night. I'll give you a bad review! I won't really. Pleeeeeeease?
B: Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeease?
F: Pretty pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeease?
Jeni: Pleeeeeeeeeeeeease?
F: Pleee...
Man: OH, OK THEN!
Once inside, we enjoyed viewing some of the acts, scoffing at the fancy dress, faux 'taches and the faux pipes and cigarettes (really people?) as well as marvelling at some of the incredible outfits there; drinking cider from bottles like the classy ladies we are, and being propositioned by strange, short men, who asked us if they could 'get off with us at midnight, if we (ie. the men!) don't get any better offers'? How charming. I am not quite sure how we resisted that tempting offer!
We actually had the most fun in the ladies loos, where we pretended to charge people £2 for a hand towel, and Jeni got loo roll stuck to her shoes. You probably had to be there!
Anyway, the thing that ruined the night for us soon after that, was when we headed into the main room at about ten minutes to midnight, ready to sing Auld Lang Syne and hug each other (having thankfully lost sight of the short man, and his taller utility-kilted, New Rocked friend). The compere was talking and swanning about on stage, saying something about being ahead of schedule... before announcing he was going to count in the New Year anyway, because it was the future, wasn't it, and to hell with it (or similar). So, then came the countdown... 10...9...8... (etc)... Happy New Year! But it was still five to midnight. No one knew what to do! Some confused and very half-hearted Auld Lang Syne renditions later, and a bit of milling around, until it was actually midnight, which passed without further comment. What a load of old rubbish!
After a strange man in a space suit took to the stage and started moaning into a microphone (connected to a synthesizer of some kind), we decided it was time to leave. So then we ditched the Ball and headed off to a house party, filled with beautiful men singing along to Lady Gaga on big pink microphones. Of course they were all gay, to a man! But we drank gin and danced; and had the most fun I had in months, possibly all year.
So this is 2011. I started it as I mean to go on, with gigantic food mountains made from burgers, chips and cheese.
My resolutions are as follows.
* Eat more food, particularly vegetables.
* Do the washing up every night before going to bed (this lasted until last night when I got home at midnight, and thought, 'sod it').
* Be more organised and use my new diary (more on this tomorrow!).
* Buy more amazing frocks, but go easy on the shoes (and take the ones I do have to be re-heeled).
That's pretty much it. Happy New Year chumrades!
Fleur xx
DiaryofaVintageGirl.com
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