
This year we decided to keep the formalities short and sweet because, let’s not kid, no one comes to Clapham Gold to hear speeches. People came to party, and party we did. Champagne popped, oysters and sushi were devoured and mini hamburgers cherished. Just thinking about it makes me want to do it all over again (although I’m not sure my feet and liver could take it).
Happiness was seeing everyone have such a good time, and letting their hair down at the end of a manic year. Of course, there were also valuable lessons to be learnt from the evening:
1. Don’t argue with the bouncers. Those who did got kicked out but lived to tweet about it.
2. Tequila is not is not a mixer (this is a mantra for us as much as it is for you).
3. Always keep ballet pumps in you car. Just because your feet are numb on the dance floor doesn’t mean they aren’t going to hurt like hell the next day.
4. There’s no point in pretending you don’t like Barbara Streisand. Sing it loud and proud.
5. Take pictures, and lots of them (but only post the flattering ones one Facebook if you want your friends to speak to you again).
6. Play hardball with cab drivers. They’ll charge to you too much if you let them.
Thanks to everyone who made the night an unforgettable success. From the bachelors to the sponsors, everyone involved is a dream to work with and we can’t wait to do it again next year (it will take us that long to recover). Major props to Paco Rabanne, Suzuki, Cross Trainer, Lee, Gary Rom Hairdressing, L’Oreal and Black/Up – we make a good team.
A huge high-five to Jeauval and Bobbi Brown who cleaned up the CLEO girls real nice, and the team at Gary Rom who gives me A-list treatment every time.
Last but certainly not least, a big shout-out to all our readers who came to dance with us. You’re simply fabulous and the biggest bunch of party animals we’ve ever met. Mwah!
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