There are early signs of spring in town this year. There have been several reported sightings of canapé trays and the early evening sing-song of Champagne glasses knocking together. Despite half the London population staggering around under the influence of drugs (Lemsip and paracetamol for the monster cold virus), theres nothing like a stiffy to get a party-lover out and about.
The 2008 trend has been set by Ruinart, which held a drinks-quaffing gathering in the Terrace Suite of the Soho Hotel. Absolutely genius place for a party: a cosy sitting room, with armchairs and pouffes, a balcony with a view of city lights, a bedroom and a bathroom, where, natur-ally, most people were congregated when I arrived. Its a truth of parties that wherever there are soft furnishings and an ante-room with cold white tiles (usually, the kitchen), its only the hard stuff that gets a look in.
This week, Im off to a launch at the Serpentine Gallery, where pianist Jamie Callum is tickling the ivories for the delight of a small audience. Im sure the Champagne flutes will chime to the beat of the metronome.
