48 hours later...

'Du monde au balcon'

Flatmates


Trevor Sorbie team

As you probably know, Thursday night was a big night... and a scary night. To give you an idea of the state I was in, I fell asleep out of sheer exhaustion at 3am the night before, woke up and burnt my forehead pretty badly with the hair curler, got lost on the way to my tube station which is 5 minutes away from the house, went to an Excel training in the morning (hey, I'm becoming computer literate, can you believe it?), went out for a ciggarette break half-way through the course, and got back into the wrong building. It took me approximately 15 minutes and two rides to the top floor in the lift to realize that I was definitely not in the right place. You can imagine, when the evening started it hardly got any better, it only got more nerve-wracking, I was craving for a tab of valium.


Contrary to my fellow blogger, I'm not a PR girl, and I don't know how to handle this kind of things: I was stuttering, fidgeting, blushing, looking for the right word and wanting to disappear in a mouse hole. There were people from fashion skycrapers in the room: the head buyer at Harvey Nichols, Silver Film Productions, Trevor Sorbie, London Fashion Week (who offered our guests exclusive tickets to London Fashion Week-end), GQ, Vogue, Harper's Bazaar... And also the people who count on a truly personal level: close friends, my dearest of dear flatmates (who got slightly drunk and on the way back home, picked up a fight in the bus, black eyes and bleeding noses in the morning), my team, everybody got along swimmingly and the atmosphere was beautifully chilled out, everybody dancing on James Roper and Max Vallot's rock'n'roll DJ mix in glamorous outfits. The Burlington club staff -which is one of the best fashion spots in London at the moment with its burlesque ambiance and visitors like Jude Law and the Girls Aloud- couldn't have been sweeter and more accomodating, and the door girl looked like a fashion icon. It was an amazing night. I would have liked to not have to give this impromptu speech, but thank God Champagnista M was here to save the day!!!


Of course, I could have done without waking up in the morning after getting back home at 3am, but professional support goes both ways. And to be honest, I was feeling so good the next day, I don't think I've ever been so productive at work. The evening was a bit of a hassle though. All I wanted to do was go home, curl up in a duvet and sleep 48 hours, but my other Champagnista half promised to go to a house party, and we're friends beyond Champagnista.com, so I accompanied her. At that point of tiredness I have two choices, pass out on one of the flat's beds, or keep my drive on vodka and other 40% alcohol. You can imagine how the night went on.



I know fashion goes hand in hand with money and I should probably be looking for a rich husband, seeing as the industry pays peanuts and I would love the latest pair of YSL tribute shoes, but I just can't get around to being interested in investment bankers. The flat was full of it yesterday night, and not bad looking ones at that. But investment bankers are the ante-Christ! Well, I guess I say that because I don't understand hell about economics, and what interests me in politics is purely social. Anyway, to make a long story short, I carburated on vodka orange until 4am, ended up talking to a guy who sounded so British that I managed to tell him 'Thank God, finally someone who is not a French investment banker, there is noone as boring as a French investment banker in London', realizing half way through the sentence that of course, he was bound to be a French investment banker... Score!... and finished the night on the balcony kissing a New Zealander Economist who looked like Adrian Brody... Well he kissed me and it was easier to not not kiss him back at that point. I tend to do that when I'm drunk... And then I text my ex of course because it is like the cherry on the icing on the cake. You know the pattern.

All in all, I am very very very content to be home in an intimate face to face with my computer.

Here are a few pictures of Thursday night. Thank you so much to all of you who came! The next party will be at the end of November and we hope to see you there again. And we hope to see you people who couldn't make it.

In the meantime, tomorrow is the beginning of London Fashion Week, so watch out for our daily reports!

By Champagnista V