A Glam Night Out
I had an interesting night out recently at the Ambassadeur Club in Mayfair. It was to celebrate 65 years of the Miss Great Britain Contest. The evening was full of lovely young twenty-somethings with legs as long as the Northern Line, and a few of us oldies, too, with shorter legs but longer memories. You might have seen the pictures in OK magazine?
I hate being late and you never know how bad the traffic is going to be in London, so I inadvertently arrived in Mayfair well before the 6.30pm start. As I tumbled out of the cab at 5.30pm, dressed in a short black silk dress with killer heels, black fishnets and jewellery that made Butler and Wilson look understated, I became acutely aware that I looked like…well….how can I put this?……I looked like a Lady of the Night arriving for her shift. I began to feel distinctly uneasy about how I was going to spend the hour before the party began.
“Nil desperandum” I thought, “I’ll just pop into this nice hotel for a drink.”
It might have been my imagination but I thought I noticed a slight smirk on the lips of the young, wild-haired ginger doorman as I entered the hotel and asked where the bar was. The lobby was swarming with tourists, all dressed casually in sneakers and hoodies, as was appropriate for early evening in late summer and I began to lose my nerve slightly. I steeled myself and strode purposefully through reception, sat down in an armchair and asked loudly for the most respectable-sounding thing I could think of, a cup of tea. I really wanted a vodka and lemonade, you understand, but it was far too early and anyway I didn’t want to give any more ammunition to the Mick Hucknell-type on the door. In a bid to feel less conspicuous I laid my cardigan over my knees, took out my earrings and tried to merge with the background. I relaxed a little and was quite relieved when a friendly American businessman started chatting. He had just arrived and needed change of a £50 note which I could just about manage. I scrabbled about in my purse, gave him the change, and just as he was handing over the said £50 note, guess who walked past? Yes, it was the Flame Haired Smirker!!!! Talk about timing.
Thankfully at the party everyone else was also dressed up to the nines and I had a lovely evening. I met up with Jill Saxby whom I had crowned Miss Great Britain in 1985. I was on my own because the organisers had not told me I could bring a guest so she and her family adopted me for the evening and we had a great time catching up and talking about the old days when we were young and innocent. She now is (unbelievably) a grandmother and runs a successful agency called JamJar Promotions. She and her family were driving all the way back to Leicester that night but were totally horrified at the idea of me getting the tube home on my own so insisted on driving me home, which was SO kind and miles out of their way. We stopped at a fab Thai restaurant, Thai Tho in Wimbledon village, where they enjoyed a lovely meal and I imposed for a glass of champagne and more gossip. It could have turned into a very late night but I had to be up at 5am the next day for the Morning Show!
Now, just for fun have a look at the photo and can you tell me who Jill’s famous husband is? If you are a sports fan, you’ll recognise him straight away!
Have a great week!