DOMENICO DOLCE’S 50TH BIRTHDAY
Where A tiny club beneath the Principe di Savoia hotel in Milan.
When September.
What A very private, very exclusive, totally star-studded party for 200
of Domenico Dolce of Dolce & Gabbana’s closest friends. Crowds gathered
outside the hotel to watch Claudia Schiffer, Jennifer Lopez and Dita Von
Teese arriving in antique horse-drawn carriages, but inside, it was a
simple, cosy gathering of dear ones. Cosy, that is, until a door opened to
reveal another room, covered in mirrors, containing Diana Ross on a stage.
When Ross sang I Will Survive, many in the room finally let the joyful tears
flow.
THE LAUNCH OF THE HOUSE OF BLUE EYES
Where Bush Hall, an old music venue in west London.
When September.
What A catwalk show and after-party starring Beth Ditto in pink lamé;
her stylist and best mate, the fashion designer Johnny Blue Eyes, in giant
red heels, men’s socks and nothing else; Scissor Sister Ana Matronic
strutting around clutching a box of Nando’s chicken wings; and Kate Moss,
also a Johnny pal, making a return to the catwalk in black jeans and a top
hat, carrying a gentleman’s walking stick. “I’ve waited 15 years for this,”
Johnny said, surveying the crowd, who were in such raptures there was almost
trouble. “These people you see on the catwalk are f***ing angels. The House
of Blue Eyes is about hope, love and fierceness.” It’s what we all need.
QUINTESSENTIALLY’S FEAST OF ALBION
Where Guildhall, London.
When March.
What A giant organic dinner party for 400, including Zac Goldsmith and
clan, Mick Jagger and L’Wren Scott, Annie Lennox, Sophie Dahl and the rest
of the eco-glamorati. The menu was conceived by Hugh Fearnley-Whittingstall,
cooked by Mark Hix and sourced from within 50 miles of Tower Bridge — yes,
the purple sprouting broccoli arrived by bicycle. Table water was resolutely
from the tap, cocktails were in recycled glasses and Lennox sang. Proper
guilt-free fun — it was really rather perfect.
THE OPENING OF DASHA ZHUKOVA’S ART GALLERY
Where A former bus depot in Moscow.
When June.
What Less of the wild abandon, but Dasha Zhukova’s gallery entry was
significant for pre-dating the tectonic shifts soon to occur in the art
world. They had all flown in: international socialites, Zhukova’s friends
and some of art’s heaviest hitters, including Larry Gagosian and Marc
Newson. The building had been saved from demolition by Zhukova and her
boyfriend, Roman Abramovich, and transformed into a space justifiably
described as “post-bling”. There was endless vodka (one bottle per guest),
caviar and quails’ eggs and, when it couldn’t get more decadent, a red
curtain parted to reveal a very private concert by Amy Winehouse — the
singer deigned to turn up for a reputed fee of a mere £1m.
HORSE MEAT DISCO
Where Glastonbury festival, Somerset.
When June.
What The east London gay club night was the big ticket at what many
claim was the best Glastonbury in years. The venue resembled a three-storey
monolith in downtown New York, and entrance was by fake moustache,
thoughtfully provided by the hosts. Mirror balls, trannies doing formation
dancing, performance artist Theo writhing in a cage and a playlist starring
back-to-back disco — what a laugh. Nothing is known of Mr Eavis’s thoughts
on the place, although something tells me he probably liked it.
WOLFGANG TILLMANS’S 40TH BIRTHDAY
Where His studio, an old warehouse, east London.
When September.
What Someone described the photographer’s birthday party as resembling
Nick Cave’s video for Fifteen Feet of Pure White Snow, and they were
probably right. Tillmans’s warehouse was decorated with twigs, fairy
lights and a giant picture of lemurs, and the bass was so loud the windows
shook. Jeanette, who used to do the list at BoomBox, was door bitch, and
trannies got naked on the dancefloor. And I recollect someone telling me she
was a faun. “Sorry I didn’t say hello to you,” she said. “I’m not being
rude, I’m a faun. Like Mr Tumnus. See — hooves, not hands.” Yes, it was
rather like that.
THE WHITE TIE AND TIARA BALL
Where Elton John and David Furnish’s mansion, near Windsor.
When June.
What A return to form for the annual fundraiser. The house was
transformed into a surf resort, with sand, palm trees, flamingoes and Brian
Wilson singing Good Vibrations, and the guest list — Will Smith, Uma Thurman
and Arki Busson, Bill and Chelsea Clinton and, of course, Liz Hurley — was
stellar. As was the menu: Oscietra caviar, black bass, and chocolate wrapped
in gold leaf. The event raised £10m for the Elton John Aids Foundation, an
astounding result that left Furnish, somewhat touchingly, almost at a loss
for words.
THE SECRET GARDEN PARTY
Where The grounds of Abbots Ripton Hall, Cambridgeshire.
When July.
What The unofficial winner of the best festival of summer 2008 award
was pastoral bliss in a field somewhere near Cambridge. Organised by the
young party entrepreneur Freddie Fellowes, it began irreverently and
descended into sun-kissed silliness. Of many highlights, a grand
sock-wrestling tournament and a twirl in the bubble-wrap ballroom. The big
name was Grace Jones (again) and yes, her ladyship did pull a strop on
stage, but many were elsewhere at the time, sitting in a treehouse playing
the bongos pretending it was 1991, albeit in better clothes.
THE OPENING OF MADONNA’S FILTH AND WISDOM
Where 60 Thompson hotel, Lower East Side, New York.
When October.
What Of course the opening party for Madonna’s new film had to be on
the Lower East Side — that was where the “bitch” began. And of course
everyone, including Lindsay Lohan and Gossip Girl’s Ed Westwick, was there.
Lohan confessed to being a superfan, saying that she had begged her
hairdresser — who also does Madonna — to give her the same ringlets.
Afterwards, a chosen few went up to the penthouse, from which Madonna
slipped away early via a secret exit, leaving Lohan and Westwick to fight
all night over DJ rights. Peaches Geldof was too busy kissing girls for
attention — sorry, Peaches — to notice.
MAX GOTTSCHALK’S 36TH BIRTHDAY PARTY
Where His enormous house, southwest Ibiza.
When August.
What An honourable end-of-an-era mention for the merchant banker and
polo chum of the Prince of Wales, Matt Gottschalk. Last year he held such an
extravagant party, organised by Deliciously Sorted, it became this year’s
hot ticket — gate-crashers were queuing to get in at 4.30am. In the year
that the Balearic island walked down the banker/Wag route, Sienna Miller,
Bob Geldof, Dannii Minogue, Jade Jagger and 746 other socially lubricated
members of the glam Euro set drank mojitos, ate sushi prepared by a chef
flown in from Japan, watched Groove Armada do the DJ honours and partied
until gone 6am.
THE STYLE CLUBBING AWARDS 2008
OUTSTANDING CONTRIBUTION TO DANCING: MATTER
Conceived by the boys behind Fabric, Matter at the O2 was always going to
be about the music. And it does not disappoint. The biggest do yet was
Diesel’s 30th birthday bash, featuring 30 bands, including the Mystery Jets,
the View and New Young Pony Club, alongside Mark Ronson. You should have
seen the movement on that “bodysonic” dancefloor.
OUTSTANDING CONTRIBUTION TO POWERBROKING: THE CLUB AT THE IVY
Step aside Scott’s and J Sheekey — the Club at the Ivy is where the deals
get done now. As fast as the ground-floor restaurant flounders in a mire of
people-watchers and bad service, the upstairs club has become where the
grown-ups go. Never mind that Kate Moss got sloshed at the launch party.
Whether it’s social one-upmanship over elderflower champagne in the bar, a
tête-à-tête with David Bailey and Nigella Lawson in the restaurant, or a
low-carb luvvie fest in the sushi bar up top you’re after, it’s every bit as
sceney as the Ivy of the old days — and then some.
MOST PROMISING NEWCOMER: PARAMOUNT
Officially the sexiest new club opening of the year, this members’ haunt at
the top of Centre Point in London has Tom Dixon-designed curves and
prospects as glittering as the London skyline it surveys.
The champagne bar on the 33rd floor is the most romantic place to sip right
now — and, if the owners get their way, the smoking bit, behind the letters
of Centre Point, the most death-defying in the country. Oh, and Stephen Fry
is choosing members: so if you’re in, you’re clever.
MOST OVERRATED NEWCOMER: WHISKY MIST
They said it would be the club that changed Mayfair, promising glamorous
Euros and exotic foreign princes. Turns out it’s just another royal
sin bin featuring highlights such as princesses downing sugary shots, Paris Hilton
doing some sexy dancing for Prince Harry, and Princess Eugenie throwing
shapes on a table dressed in a nurse’s outfit. Classy.
MOST IMPROVED DESTINATION: AURA
Best to swing past the superclubs in Ibiza next summer, because this year
it was all about Aura. A lounge bar and restaurant for locals, it hosts
everyone from Bruce Parry to Rhys Ifans, Kate Moss to Jade Jagger, with nary
a guest list nor mile-long entry queue in sight. Summer highlight? Danny
Rampling coming out of retirement to DJ at his own birthday party. Lowlight?
Where to go at 6am.
MOST SILLINESS: START THE BUS, BRISTOL
Brought to you by the people behind the Lock Tavern in Camden and the
Amersham Arms in New Cross, it’s a glorified pub that masquerades as a bar
and a dressing-up box all in one, offering a trendy Bristol crowd live
music, ample opportunities to dress up and a jumble sale on Sundays. It’s
playing for grown-ups and is seriously fun.
MOST DIFFICULT DOOR POLICY: THE BEATRICE INN, NEW YORK
Stepping into Bungalow 8's now unfashionable shoes, the Beatrice Inn in
West Village is the hipsters’ hangout in New York. Functioning as a sort of
members’ club (nobody knows the membership rules), it is harder to get into
than a pair of Alaïa leggings and smaller than an Olsen’s shoe — you need to
get intimate with Angelo the doorman and pitch up at least three times a
week to be in with a sporting chance. But once inside, it’s all Sam and Li
Lo snogging on the banquettes, Kirsten Dunst in the DJ booth and the fashion
crowd wall to wall. Hit track ? My Sharona. Sometimes, when the crowd is
cool enough . . .
VICTOR LUDORUM: SHOREDITCH HOUSE
One year on and still all roads lead to Shoreditch House. The bar, the
pool, the restaurant, the people (and, secretly, the Sunday crèche) make it
the best value, most useable and most desirable membership around. Just ask
the White Cube crowd, who head there for dinner after openings, and
Christopher Kane, who took over the roof for his fashion-week party. Where
else can deliver all that, followed by a massage?
THE LIFETIME ACHIEVEMENT AWARD: CHINAWHITE
Leaving its West End venue after 10 years of hosting the good, the bad and
the very, very ugly of the sleb scene, Chinawhite has sparked more pap
frenzies than a naked Sienna Miller, served up more cocktails than a ladies’
night and probably secured Calum Best more shags than all the Lynx in
Superdrug. Watch out for its revamp next year.
Gemma Soames
