I've always been more of a house party girl than one for clubbing…there’s something quite delightful about oscillating between gossip in the kitchen and dancing with your mates in the living room.
Of course, there’s a big difference between cider-drenched house parties at uni and parties in the Presidential Suite of a five star hotel.
Adam Brightman’s this media mogul who’s currently staying at The Chatsfield Hotel in London, and he’s a sweetheart – if a bit of a charmer. (For charmer read irrepressibly flirtatious).
Anyway, he was (in his words) “unceremoniously ejected” from the Presidential Suite whilst Sheikh Sayed bin Falah was in town, and on his return he announced a party to all and sundry.
So that’s how I found myself, last night, in a £5000 a night hotel suite, dancing to Poker Face with a quarter of the Swedish swim team. (And no, the rumours about Ad and the Swedish swim team aren't true – I have it on good authority that that was the Austrian team… Or at least three of them!)
And as evenings go, it was pretty epic.
We’re talking champagne cocktails on tap, selfies with Ben Montague (film star and general all round hottie) and his sister Juliet, as well as live music - all in the most opulent luxury that I've ever set eyes on. No wonder Jessie loves her job.
The moment the lift doors opened I found myself in a world inhabited by celebrities and members of “society”. Hardly like any Saturday night that I've ever had… But I soon found myself holding some colourful concoction in stemmed crystal and being invited to join a card game where the stakes were way higher than any poker game I've ever played.
Perhaps unsurprisingly then, I gravitated towards the bar (which seems to be the suite equivalent of a house party’s kitchen) where I talked to the Montagues about Ben’s new film, blagged my way through a conversation about gym routines with a handful of professional swimmers and ended up dancing my arse off…
Who knew that Lady Gaga songs would sound great as rock anthems?!
Adam himself spent the evening flitting from group to group, flirting with this model and then listening oh so very intently to that pop star. He’s the consummate host, ever attentive, even spending fifteen minutes introducing the band to some hotshot DJ.
But there’s something rather odd about someone who simply doesn't ever tie himself down - not even in conversation.
Nevertheless he was utterly lovely; he even remembered some conversation I’d had with Jessie about the tulips he’d bought her, and handed me the most beautiful tiny tulip brooch. Like I said, a charmer.
All in all, a fantastic evening. Can’t wait for the next Chatsfield party…