One difference between Dubai and Shanghai: glitter and sparkles
15th March 2015 Shanghai
I must say, it surely is a pleasant sensation to wake up on a Sunday morning with a fresh head. Not tentatively opening one’s eyes and gradually feeling the eyelashes to ascertain whether the makeup had been removed, I was indeed wearing my pyjamas and I had most definitely brushed my teeth. Splendid.
Last night, school hosted the Shanghai Symphony Orchestra for a Vivaldi concert which left me both awe inspired and super furious with selfish mothers who allowed their jack-in-the-box kids to break the stupor I was so happy to be led into by the music. It was my intention to slink in at the back of the theatre and hide to soak up the performance; I was concerned that too much of a story, too much of a lingering note would render me a tear-streaked wreck after this week but it was not to be, I was surrounded. Perhaps I should be grateful to the flashing trainers, exaggerated whispers (when we were lucky) and relentless movement of the younger folk for not allowing me to indulge myself. Still, a swift arm yank to the back of the theatre, gags and super glue did cross my mind several times as I lamented and pined for the chaos free audiences of Covent Garden or Embankment.
The previous evening had been somewhat different. Our staff party took place in a plush 36th floor bar which boasted bright, impressive views of the city. Talk buzzed for two weeks prior to the event, ‘what will you wear?’, ‘it’s quite a posh bar’ ‘dresses and beautiful earrings all the way.’ Ooh, thought I, a chance to pretty up and drink champagne – my own private celebration cheers being the intended subplot for the evening. Unfortunately, being that I have gained rather a lot of weight in drink and Pringles of late, dressing was not altogether confidence inspiring: nothing really fit me until I found my fabulous blue trousers and sparkly butterfly top. Finished with a generous spread of ‘Lady Danger’ lipstick –oh yes – I was ready. I arrived in my beautiful cape of beautifulness, Lady Danger first, followed by my dazzling butterfly and pink zipped back, it occurred to me after about 27 seconds that I may stick out somewhat. Suddenly aware of the fact that I had to make a decision as to whether I was a drag queen esque, painted lady in a very non-drag-queen-esque crowd, or simply a colourful, eccentric little figure skater creature, I realised that all of the gorgeous people around me were wearing – albeit it wearing it well – a sophisticated blend of blacks, creams, and various other dark colours. I stood, a little shaken, garish or sparkling in comparison and considered my options.
At first I took in the clear availability of ‘champagne’. Good. Then I scanned the room, took in the view, saw that while the food table was high, it was not too high – I could aim for that, reach up, select a burger and hide there a while. I would not need to talk to anyone who might deem me ghastly. I thought of Sally. I thought of what she would tell me what to do and almost felt the look she gave me and the ‘don’t be ridiculous’ sentiment rang true. With her firm, unwavering hand at my back I entered the room with a lurch and reached for a glass.
And what splendid fun I had! That slightly larger than I would like it to be but nevertheless still able to swing (low) to the music electric-blue clad bottom had a good old shake and by the end of the night even if some thought me somewhat of a cartoon character, I had enjoyed a sparkling evening!
Other than building furniture in my pyjamas and watching cowboy movies, that was my weekend so far and it’s only Sunday morning! Oh, I do have to report a plummet in my current rugby table position. Damn and blast the fact that I was too late with my team changes!
She went to Shanghai 