Tag Archives: dancing

Hen Do Tea Party

I cannot believe my wedding is in 5 weeks!

All the RSVPs are in, the honeymoon is booked, and I’ve had my final dress fitting. Time to relax, spend the weekend pampering myself with spa treatments, and meditating about wedded bliss.

Oh, wait a minute – not if my girlfriends have anything to do with it!

The big day that I thought would never happen is finally here:

My bachelorette party!

Saturday began with my darling friend Lia (isn’t she darling?) grabbing me for a shopping date and bistro lunch.




A happy little salad and two happy bloody marys, then darling Lia hailed a cab and whisked me off to a secret destination in Soho…

Which turned out to be Dean Street Townhouse – where all my chirpy chickies were waiting to surprise me for my hen do afternoon tea!

How jolly British!


I was so happy to see all of my hens – especially one who had just fluttered over from the US!



What wedding diet?

Let the bride eat cake!


And sip tea!




A spiffing afternoon with the ladies!

After tea, the girls kindly accompanied me home to mine – where the scene was set with fairylights and candles, a cheese board, and lots and lots of bubbly!



I donned my festival-themed accessories and shimmied into something a little more rock chic for the evening ahead.

Which was mainly drinking lots of champers and cuddling.







Eventually, we prowled out into the London nightlife scene – kicking things off at our first stop, Maggie’s.

(Which was essentially like partying at home because this little 80’s club has been my bunker since I was just a Chelsea newbie).

I marched in and took the reigns – or drumsticks, in this case…






I can’t show you more because us rockstar gals like to keep a low profile on our nights out.

But suffice it to say, with friends as gorgeous as this, it was quite a mischievous night carousing until dawn.

Oops, I guess that’s what happens when the hens fly the coop!

Dinner & Dancing to a London Beat

“What have I missed?” is my first thought whenever I return to London. I immediately want to make up for lost time. So I didn’t miss a beat hitting the town on Saturday night.

First item on the docket: some honest British nosh. And for that, it doesn’t get more genuine than English celebrity chef, Heston Blumenthal.

Dinner by Heston Blumenthal is inside the Mandarin Oriental hotel in Knightsbridge. The concept here is to redefine the identity of British gastronomy, reinventing historic dishes with Heston’s molecular tweaks. Ensconced in the ruby-red decadence of the private dining room, we got stuck in with some classics.

tab table table7

Two signature plates are the Meat Fruit and the Tipsy Cake. The Meat Fruit is an iconic dish that dates back to Tudor times. Blumenthal’s interpretation of it translates to the richest, silkiest paté – disguised as a tangerine in a dimpled orange gelatin complete with a stem and leaf.

Meat Fruit (c. 1500)

Meat Fruit (c. 1500)

Mandarin, chicken liver & foie gras parfait, grilled bread

Mandarin, chicken liver & foie gras parfait, grilled bread


Spicy Pigeon (c. 1780) | Ale & artichokes

Spicy Pigeon (c. 1780) | Ale & artichokes


The Tipsy Cake is a cushy brioche bun soaked in alcohol and served with spit-roasted pineapple. It is probably one of the best desserts I’ve ever tasted.

Tipsy Cake (c.1810) | Spit roast pineapple

Tipsy Cake (c.1810) | Spit roast pineapple

After a scrumptious dinner, we all spilled into a pair of black cabs and rumbled down the street to Ruski’s Caviar and Vodka Tavern. Like a plethora of London’s themed nightclubs, it’s contrived. Blatantly so. It’s a pastiche of a Soviet Russia theme. Supposedly, there’s a thoughtful Art Deco-ish design in there somewhere, but you’d never find it through all the fog machine haze hanging in the air. The place is absolutely steaming – from the unventilated smoke of sparkler fountains, from the dank basement humidity, from uncorked teen spirit.

But the music is great – and it’s thumping through the whole place, and everyone is energetic, so you get swept up in all the furor.

And you drink a few potent shots delivered in a Russian space helmet.

And you dance!

rusk rusk2 Rusk3 rusk4

rusk5 rusk5.5 Rusk6 rusk8 rusk7 rusk11

It was an excellent evening partying with my comrades.

London, it’s good to back.