Sunday, July 13, 2008

The "Big Party" Report



It’s Sunday, July 13 here in London, and I’ve been a lazy blogger. “The Big Party” was a week ago, and it took me a full three days to recover. NOT that I was hungover (I wasn’t, because I really didn’t have time to drink much at the party), just exhausted, as we all were.
But, essentially, the party was a huge success. It just proves once again that, if you have the right elements, putting on a great event isn’t a mystery. Great food, excellent music and an interesting mix of people – that’s all it takes.
The “marquee” (or tent) company took four days to put up on the lawn adjacent to the Manor House in Hambleden, where Henry’s mother lives. It involved the 4,100 square foot main tent, plus an attached tent for the cocktail reception and two auxiliary tents (for the kitchen and a room for the orchestra). Then the specialty lighting people took a day and a half, after which the caterer came in to set the tables and linen. The flower lady arrived on the morning of the event to place all her gorgeous flowers (that cost who-knows how much!), and the last to arrive were the furniture people, who put in the couches and tables into the reception tent, and finally the casino games people, who set up their tables in the conservatory.
Whoops, and don’t forget the valet car parking service, which is somewhat rare in England. Most of the time, you self-park but Sara insisted that people should be able to pull up in front of the Manor and walk in without having to slog through the car park field across the street. (We lucked out with good weather, but it would’ve been a total mess if we had had rain that day.) And, who can forget the portable loo – the most amazing porta-potty I’ve ever seen. It was the size of a trailer, and had nice towels, music and framed art inside. (Too bad it got clogged up by around 11 pm, but that’s another story…)
Canapes (what we would call heavy hors d’oeuvres) consisted of salmon, shrimp and tuna, as well as guacamole in pastry cups and sausages (of course, it’s England!). Then the curtains were drawn, and guests all took their seats. There were mostly tables of eight, and each had a place card – figuring out who sat where was a process that went on for a week beforehand. (I had a hand in it, and my biggest faux pas was evidently placing two “arch rivals” not only at the same table, but literally right next to each other. Whoops.)

Dinner was served around 9:30 pm: filet steaks with fancy spuds and veg, and it was delicious, I must say. Then there were speeches, where daddy Henry introduced and thanked everyone, then friends of Sara (the 21 year old) and Ali (the 18 year old) gave witty short talks about them, those clever Brits.
Dessert came next: American-style cupcakes with fresh berries. Then the 14-piece orchestra kicked in for a few hours of big band music, followed by a few more hours of “live DJ.” To top it off, the caterer brought out “bacon butties” and chips (French fries) at around 1 am, which are basically bacon on hamburget buns with ketchup, but the kids all scarfed them up without haste.

Everyone looked fantastic in their gowns and tuxes. Sally in her Carolina Herrera, and the girls in their designer togs as well. Earlier in the day, there was a team of hair, makeup and tanning people all over the house, making sure everyone looked their absolute best.
I was familiar with most of the guest names, since I kept the rsvp list and did the place cards. Henry came with Frida, aka Anna-Frid, the original brunette in ABBA. (They’re living together at her home in Zermatt.) The Duke and Duchess of Norfolk arrived, and they’re good friends of all the Smith’s. (The Duke, aka Eddie, is the secular head of the Catholic Church in England, and a very high peerage.) Lord Hambleden, the girls’ grandfather, wasn’t able to make it, evidently due to a sick doggie at home. Whatever.

After the party, some of the kids “retired” to their cars, where they slept, and a few even pitched tents. Mind you, these were the same kids who wore gowns and tuxes, but it’s considered completely normal for them to sleep it off in their cars and then drive home “sober” the next morning.
Sara had set up a sea of blow-up mattresses in her dad’s rental house not far away. I never made it over there, but 20 or so made it to the after party, which lasted til 6 am or so… (When I asked Sara is there was going to be some hanky-panky, what with all these virile 20-somethings, a lot of booze and a room full of mattresses, and she said: “No, we have more self-control than Americans.” Touche!)
I’m sure I’ve forgotten some of the details – like the guy who arrived in his helicopter! Of course, the fun of such an evening is then hearing all the stories for the next week or so. The biggest scandal of the night seems to be a toss up between the guy who got so drunk he tried to walk home but then someone found him passed out in the bushes with his legs sticking out – or there were the two guys who were discussing who’s who at the party, and one said to the other “who’s the one in the blue dress with the bad roots,” and the other guy said: “that’s my girlfriend.” Whoopsie!
All in all, it was an amazing evening, and I was glad I could be a part of it. But the question remains: how are the girls gonna top this at their weddings!?!?!

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