September 24th, 2006

A Gossip Columnist’s Life …

A Nokia table setting

A gossip columnist can never get pissed on the job because this major sign of weakness would be broadcast to the world within minutes of any transgression. Besides , it’s hard to keep track of everyone else’s indiscretions when one is three sheets to the wind or possibly four. Consider this though - it’s no fun attending parties where the best wines and cocktails are being served and sticking to OJ or mineral water. Yeah, it’s really a voddie guys, Not. The other problem with not drinking is that a close encounter with many on the so called A-list is enough to make you reach out for the nearest, stiff cocktail. So anyway, I don’t ever get legless but I do imbibe alcohol at an event - I’m only human. (Although there are plenty of people out there who would have you believe otherwise).
Take Tuesday night’s launch of Nokia’s 8800 Sirocco phone in the middle of Centennial Park. Just getting there was complicated enough. Guests were deposited in their complimentary limos at a meeting point in the park where cocktails were being served. They then clambered into Range Rovers for a drive further into the park’s interior where there were more drinks. Nearly an hour and a half later we were shown to our tables that had been decorated by some of the best creative talent in town. I’d already had three glasses of champagne but I sobered up in no time at all when I took a look at the table where I would be seated. It was sponsored by Land Rover and decorated by Jamie Durie, who was waiting for us in a sparkling white suit. This was yet another table of death because guests were arranged on a giant garden swing over a water feature surrounded by knee high bullrushes and the only way in was to lead by your bottom, swing both legs together and hope that the swing was on the right rotation. It’s a good thing that Jamie is such a delight because once I had settled in I knew that me and my sky high antique platforms were only going to perform this delicate manoeuvre one more time and that would be to leave. What’s more I would need all my wits around me as I am klutzy at the best of times. So, I reached out for the water jug.
I have only been putrid at one event and that was the Barefoot and Blacktie Ball at Palm Beach two years ago when I was smashed on my first glass of champagne. (I guess there was a combination of factors involved in that). But even then I was on automatic pilot. I left early, walked up the sand with as much dignity as I could muster and did not utter even one word the whole way home..

Jamie in his white suit

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