1920's story

So Rich and I had been invited to a 1920's party in a secret location. We were meeting my friend from Lycée in France , Emily and her sister Joanna.

We arrived at the location: an alleyway in Shoreditch. We were greeted by a woman holding a guest list. Once we were in we had to follow another dark alley where the light was yellow and there even seemed to be fog. The atmosphere got me extremely excited. The venue was a very old building with arches. 1920's music was playing by a band and old films were projected onto the stoned wall.

A couple of bars were set up and Rich and I got a cocktail. We finally saw Emily stumble in, obviously had a couple of pre drinks! Both their boyfriends were there, dressed accordingly, 1920's paperboy and gentleman. The Champagne started flowing and the dance moves were ready to be put to use. The night was a tremendous hit, everyone had made an effort and people's behaviours were that of the 1920's, very polite yet fun.

As all of our four friends were smokers, we spent quite a long time outside, were the scene was from a film. I was wearing a dress that my mother had bought me when I was 14. Yes 14! It was always too big on me and now fitted perfectly. It was very long and fringed. Perfect. I had spent a considerable length of time trying to make my hair look like a respectable bob by following a few steps of a women on YouTube. Back to the story.

I bent down, to collect my bag only to be told that my underwear was showing. OOPS! The zip had broken and my raspberry lace underwear was for everyone to see. Thank god it was dark and people were drunk. Joanna, who is costume maker, took me aside and started using tape to stick it back together. And it held, well I think it did. So we continued to dance, and dance, and drink. Next thing I know my strap breaks. Oh well, my fur can cover that up. We leave at 2am.

Not wanting to end this party from the past, José, Joanna's Portuguese boyfriend, takes us to a strip bar across the road. We did not all agree to this, but as he was insisting to pay for all of us, we just couldn't say no. I have never been to one before and there we were, all dressed up very elegantly in a bar where all the men looked as bad as each other and the women were all practically naked and looking pissed off. We left after a drink and headed to José's flat round the corner.

What an amazing flat, just two bedrooms, very spacious and modern. This is what I want I thought, but at £1800 a month I thought otherwise! So the shoes came off, the wigs came off (and were swapped around much to our amusement) and the dancing continued. I was dancing away whilst holding Richards camera and did not see the clear plastic table behind me thus falling backwards and yes dropping the camera and breaking the other remaining strap. Obviously the zoom had to be out and the camera is broken. I on the other hand was not and luckily did not hurt myself. I could see Rich getting very angry but also trying not to say anything. I must point out that this is the second time I have broken HIS camera, last time was at New Years Eve. He was not amused and I felt terrible. But lo and behold, Andrea, Emily's Italian boyfriend had made pasta, with tuna and garlic and it was delicious, obviously he is Italian. This softened the atmosphere and I started to think that after all cameras are just material things and I really could have hurt myself!

After pasta, Rich and I decided to head home as it was 4 am by now. We kind of knew where we were heading, deciding to get the bus home. When we saw a bus saying Tottenham court road, we jumped on. After half an hour I think (by this time I was falling asleep on Richards shoulder), we heard that the next stop would be Brixton. WHAT? We went from Shoreditch to Brixton, ending up where Emily and Joanna live. Oh did I mention it was pouring down, and that as both my straps were broken I had to hold my dress up. We finally found a bus that took us to Kings Cross and climbing into bed I reached to my clock: 6.30. What a night, but what a great night!