As the Venga Boys once sang, ‘We like to party. We like, we like to party.’ Especially when partying means an excuse to dress up and look pretty.
I got out my party dress and GHDs. And then a pair of tights, since it started snowing heavily and there was no way I was going out bare-legged. Only mad drunk girls on hen weekends in Blackpool are that reckless.
Last night was the first of a glut of Christmas parties – our office do – and the contrast between this year’s and last year’s, which was definitely a recession do, couldn’t have been greater.
Last year we went to Camino (which is a great little venue for drinks after work on a Friday night) at Kings Cross, ate tapas, drank beer and went home early.
This year we went to Vertigo 42 at the top of the old NatWest tower to drink champagne and nibble on canapes, while gazing out over the neon and yellow sulphur lights of London.
Then we went to the Wapping Project for dinner – Wild boar to start, venison for the main course and then I couldn’t resist having a cheese board to finish instead of pudding. All washed down with red wine. O so festive. Delightfully expensive. And very yummy.