Gilding The Lily

In his blue gardens men and girls came and went like moths among the whisperings and the champagne and the stars.
— F Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby

I was fortunate enough on the weekend to go to a very fab event - and as you can probably guess from the above, it was a Gatsby inspired evening. To quote from Baz Luhrmann's The Great Gatsby soundtrack, 'a little party never hurt nobody', and it was a wonderful night out, complete with (semi) bright young things diving into a rooftop pool (it isn't like the movies, kids - you looked like drowned rats. Sorry).

Some who attended may admittedly be scarred for life by a certain impromptu jazz hands and high kick routine by two people who shall remain nameless, but other than that... yay!

It certainly needed to be a great outing, with subsequent miserable losses to my Pies, the Wobblies being very wobbly indeed in the face of Bokke boofiness, and my arch-nemesis Sebastian Vettel winning at Monza. Sigh. Going from glamour to god-awful sporting results within 24 hours.

It's not all sequins, kids. 

I'm not even mentioning politics. This is a politics free zone for a week. Annabel Crabb isn't PM so realistically, there's nothing worth discussing.  

So, back to Friday night's shindig. I had the frock from hell (or is that heaven? - either way, I felt pretty damn amazing). And I think for the first time in my life, I had my hair and makeup professionally done. I've done the 'do before, but never the face (not my beautiful face!)  

Wowee. I looked - well, possibly not like me (hence the wowee) - but WOWEE.

Not to be all 'vanity, thy name is woman' about things, but I felt really, really great. REALLY great. And after a few weeks which I think can only be described as the bottom of the cat's tray of life, this was a moment in time which was not an ego boost, but just a little bit of hedonistic joy that, like a party, didn't hurt nobody, and made me feel special. 

It was a wonderful gift from a fabulous friend and it, along with the arrival from far climes of the soon to be dinner-suited swain (who I may never allow out of a dinner suit again - yum) made me realise I am incredibly lucky. 

Life returns very much to a fairly grim normality this week. There are some hard physical and mental tasks ahead. But I know - I know - that all I need to do to deal with them is have a quick glimpse at the photos from Friday night, and I will see my smile, and feel my incredible joy.

And I will get through. 

Unless I think about jazz hands.  

Then I will just fall on the floor and laugh.