The 3rd Chap Anarcho-Dandy Ball

3rd Chap Anarcho Ball.

The 3^rd Chap Anarcho Ball tore a chunk out of London nightlife, dipped it in absinthe and spread gentleman’s relish all over it on the 10th of December. It was a good night and as it turned out I didn’t need my patented steampunk-fabricated fake tache evaporator after all as the fake moustache was not much in evidence. The Dandy Massive appeared in great numbers, the bars of Tangiers must have been lonely that night. The mystery flappers were there later in the evening: a bit like the Spanish Inquisition, those giggling little groups of girls who just turn up randomly at vintage events clutching pink drinks, do they have some kind of strange psychic 'place were we can wear a feathery head band' sat-nav? Where do they come from? The Chap Ball lures all kinds of strange moths to its flame.

Cutting a rug.

Corralled and chivvied by red haired siren Bethan the event ran smoothly and louchely. The secretary service this year even provided a choice of era, Madmen missy or Miss Lemonkissy? An impossible choice. Gustav Temple the editor lurked in the shadows like a dapper Mephistopheles watching lost souls damn themselves to torment or at the very least a respectable hangover. Viv the Spiv was an avuncular and welcome presence, a girl never knows when she’ll need some of those, ahem, 'frisky' pills ("brought back by a pal of mine from Rangoon..’onest!"). There was a secret 'Hush Hush Hooch' bar emulating speakeasies from across the pond but also with hints of oldVictorian gin windows, we were in King’s Cross after all. The band were good, MC Elemental did something on stage that involved a monkey mask but at that point I was deeply involved in a serious philosophical discussion about the correct route to adopt when trawling around bars in Soho; clockwise? anti-clockwise? in order of exclusivity or desperation? We decided you start with Quo Vadis and end in Trish’s, quite literally if you are not careful. You see, important questions are debated at these events, I won’t tell you what I learned about wallpaper paste.

Perturbed by the AtterDalek

People were splendidly turned out, although the bearded one did hiss about 'teaching the whippersnappers how to wear black tie'. Something about a lack of waistcoats I gather. My favourite variation on black tie was Atter’s Dalek ensemble. Especially when we realised that his whisk appendage was only attached with Velcro. Daleks are, of course, chaps and the fellow with the national grid inspired whistle was also an enlightening sight (sorry). It was a pleasure to yell at Farhan and Ed out of the loo windows (classy as ever) and to dance (badly as ever) towards the end of the evening. The only booze spilt down my grey silk ballgown was gin so that was also a result.

Myself and the lovely Tracy.

For me the Chap Ball and the New Sheridan Club Christmas party are the joint high points of the festive party season. Some of you might have seen the latter’s summer party as part of Watch’s 'A very British party' documentary series? This year the theme was Tinker, Tailor, Dandy, Spy. You’ll have found me in the Russian sector with a glass of fizzy wine nosing out the trendy trots due a purge, or at least exile to Dalston.

Many thanks to Tony Lee for use of the photographs.

Chaps who wear fezzes.

Hush hush hooch.

Viv the Spiv

Note illuminated suit to the left..