The Lula issue 2 launch party in the West End, that I've been helping with all week. Another last minute DJ gig: a phone call last night, asking me to cover James's slot.
Suddenly the what-to-wear dilemma is replaced with the what-to-play dilemma. I've never played a London party and with the disappearance of my social life, I haven't been to any London parties to see what they play. Playlists are rapidly thrown together, some are uploaded online for me from Brooklyn [I heart D.E.], CDs and headphones are dropped off in the afternoon from James.
Then the what-to-play dilemma is replaced by the oh-shit-I-should-have-left-half-an-hour-ago-daddy-please-will-you-drive-me-into-town dilemma, and I eventually get to Portland Place about ten minutes before the party starts. The sound guy and I spend about five minutes trying to figure out the mixer and settings [it was a little odd] then we're up and running and I'm playing to an empty room although apparently people are arriving downstairs.
A couple songs in, I run to the open bar in the next room and grab a peach bellini. A few minutes later someone clears away the empty glass and brings me a fresh drink. I like this service. However, I end up spinning for just under two hours and by the end I'm getting the point where not only do I want another drink [alas, no new one appears after the second bellini], but I'm starting to wonder if I'll ever get someone to cover me so I can run to the bathroom. Just as I'm about to text someone, the next DJ shows up and I turn the decks over with some relief, push my way through the fashion crowd to the bar, down another drink then run downstairs to the bathrooms.
A while later, back upstairs in the room where the DJ is, talking to my friend, someone taps me on the shoulder to get my attention. It's a girl, short blond hair. "Are you going to be DJing again at all tonight?" I don't think so, I tell her. "Oh. I preferred your stuff - you were better than her." I stammer my thanks and turn back to my friend,unsure whether my suddenly-pink cheeks are from too much free champagne or from unexpected compliments from strangers.
Later, and we're downstairs watching The Like play, I get an immediate girl crush on the drummer [why is it always the drummers??] It's so hot and the Queens of Noize breeze in and there's a guy wearing a cowboy hat and someone else with their bangs [fringe] artfully scuplted across their forehead to accentuate their cheekbones and I've had too many drinks in quick succession with barely any food all day and my friend comes in and says it's all too Glamorama let's get out of here and as we're heading out Keira Knightley brushes past looking beautiful and we get outside and it finally finally feels like London might be approaching summer as the sky is a light-polluted shade of indigo and it's still warm and breezy and we walk up to Piccadilly Circus to get the tube home talking as if it hadn't been over a year since we've hung out like this.
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