New Year's Eve

The only time of the
year that one can wear
a dress that appears to
have been patterned
on an ostrich and get
away with it.

Hooray! Against incredible odds, we all survived the Mayans. And that means we get to ring in the new year!

This year, I was spending it with my English friends. Slightly dubious about the idea of a pub crawl when the divines fortold rain, I flexed my Google-fu and found a whole bunch of modestly-priced, well-dressed events. These ranged from the bizarre (supperclub - a fairly arty experience seeming to involve pole dancing, fire breathing and latex gear) to certain disaster (Casino at the Empire - because who needs money anyway?). We settled on Zebrano's on Carnaby Street.

My outfit was easily the most excessive I have ever worn - the dress's skirt was a frothy mass of gradiented netting, paired with white tights. I spent a good while debating whether it was a good idea to step out of the door looking like a fairy reject, but I failed to realise that the dress would actually be the least of my worries.

When I left for pre-drinks, I was experiencing a little discomfort in my toes. I waved it away - beauty is pain, right? Unfortunately things only got worse. The little discomfort turned into a sharp sting every other step, and then the feeling of blood seeping into my tights by the time I was on the Tube to Holborn.

And so I became that typical woman you see hobbling away from a club at night, wincing and gritting her teeth with each tiny, mincing step... except it was about 7PM and I hadn't even made it to the party yet.

I chose not to admit defeat, but to advance in the opposite direction. Upon my arrival at Holborn I informed my comrades of my crushing defeat in the battle of womanhood, and took the Tube straight back home. Upon removing my tights, I was greeted with the discovery that the skin on each of my fourth toe knuckles had regretfully parted ways with the rest of my feet. Ah, and we used to be so close...

It was a short battle, but I still bear the scars.

After performing toe surgery, disinfecting the wounds and slapping a plaster on each, I slipped on a pair of flats. They were not quite so elegant, more on the functional side, but man, I only have ten toes to give.

Back on track, I joined up with the others at Zebrano's. It was a pretty cool place - non-sticky floor and nice decor. Everything was relatively quiet at the time - it was about 8PM, so not a lot of activity yet.

In order to avoid drinking on an empty stomach (which went really well last time) I'd managed to grab a McChicken Sandwich on the way there, but it turned out I didn't actually have much to fear on the food side. The ticket included a glass of champagne and canapes, which were actually delicious! Duck pancake rolls, breaded chicken on sticks, mini spring rolls and some little pieces of steak.

I stuck mostly to Asahi over the night, but did try a few new things. Paid a little more to try cocktails - Strawberry Kiss was sweet, fruity and creamy, tasting very similar to Baileys, if it came in a fruit flavour. I also tasted a little of an Espresso Martini, which tasted like coffee, to no-one's great surprise. Tim didn't manage to finish his spiced rum and Red Bull, so was passing it around - it didn't really taste of alcohol at all and more like the blood of Jelly Babies. I must have more of this delicious, cruel mixture!

As far as music went, they started off with more sort of... background music, which was nice to listen to without being intrusive, and then evolved into more danceable stuff as the night went on, causing the creation of dancefloors. It was a mix of newer things like Gangnam Style, and the sort of thing I had dim memories of hearing on the radio when I was about twelve. (Ten years later, I am finally In Da Club, who could have guessed?) 

We also discovered a DDRX2 machine at roughly 4:30 a.m. on the way to Leicester Square while passing Las Vegas (the amusements, not the city), so Matt and I had a go. The panels were pretty terrible and unresponsive, requiring very rough handling to register a hit, but we still passed everything. I am not entirely sure what the mainly tracksuited locals thought of a group of guys in suits hanging around watching a fellow in a tux and a girl in a fluffy dress violently slamming panels on a dance machine, but it must have looked hilarious.

I had fun! I hope everyone else did. And a happy new year to all! :3

Some kind of... multi-person selfshot, because we're just that cool.