Sunday, October 08, 2006

Party politics

There are two types of parties - ones that make you feel good about yourself, and ones that make you feel bad.

My birthday party last weekend was of the former type - I was wearing a ridiculously tarty cowboy outfit, I was tipsy, it was dark, I knew most of the people there - oh, and they were mostly men. I felt like a social butterfly, flitting between groups of witty, interesting people, saying witty and interesting things. I was being witty (or so I thought, in retrospect I was probably just shouting as usual).

The housewarming party I went to on Friday was very different. For a start, I had had a hair crisis which involved the front sections twirling into something that resembled candyfloss, and a spot of frankly impressive dimensions erupted on my right cheek earlier that day.

But the real problem was the other people there. They were gorgeous. And so young, with such abundant hair, and so thin! One was wearing a minuscule sweater dress with a print like an Axminster carpet, and she looked amazing. I felt like I had wandered into a Razorlight lookalike convention which had collided with a High Street Honeys after-party.



They stumbled round, drinking vodka and cokes, continually embracing each other and generally larking about. One of them accosted me to tell me about a particularly fine specimen of manhood: "He's gorgeous, isn't he? I'm definitely going to snog him before the end of the evening." I was taken aback. What, she was actually going to try to pull him? At a party?

On the other side of the room, my group of friends stood in the corner, talking about Guitar Hero and cars whilst drinking steadily and unemotionally with our usual Friday night. We had no ambition to snog anyone before the end of the evening; nor were we riotously drunk. Instead, we'd all worked out the precise minute we could leave and still catch the last tube/bus home. We smelled of disappointment and Beck's.

Our host, Laura, had the explanation: the rest of her housemates had only just finished university. At Nottingham.

For the uninitiated, Nottingham is a university attended only by fit people (although the occasional homely type sneaks through every so often). Whilst intelligent enough not to be easily despised, its graduates are nevertheless not so intelligent they become bogged down by the terrifyingly large questions of life (How will I buy a house? Am I rubbish at my job? Where's all my money gone? Is this a cold or meningitis?).

"Oh god," I said to Laura. "I'll be leaving. I'll come back when I'm much more attractive."

Oh well. I console myself in my bitterest moments with the thought that if I ever achieve a position of importance in my forties and fifties, I will employ only people who used to be really attractive. Then I will taunt them about their fading charms, before sending them out to buy my coffee and wear in my shoes for me.

15 Comments:

Anonymous paul haine said...

I find not attending any parties at all solves all these problems.

10/08/2006 10:40 pm  
Blogger Léonie said...

You want to go to a Warwick party. Warwick is a university for unattractive people who stay in their rooms and play computer games, so it is easy to shine (and even easier to pull) at the parties.

I recently went to an Exeter party, which was dispiritingly full of braying, golden-skinned people with enormous hair and lots of money. In that situation the only option is to get drunk on somebody else's alcohol and find ways to feel superior.

Sorry I couldn't make your party, by the way...

10/09/2006 11:05 am  
Anonymous lb said...

Yes, I should apologise again for not being able to make yours.

My first university was for people who went to a minor public school and/or were Japanese, I think. Most of the students were female but that didn't make it any more enjoyable.

10/09/2006 11:27 am  
Anonymous Laura said...

Funnily enough, the girl in the sweater dress happens to be good friends with the real Razorlight.

10/09/2006 12:23 pm  
Blogger galatea said...

Typical.

I can only hope she secretly has something wrong with her, like webbed feet, or breath that smells like glue.

10/09/2006 2:22 pm  
Blogger Paul B said...

I found this post really rather depressing. I suddenly feel exceptionally dull, like some kind of 22-year-old cross between Alan Partridge and John Major.

10/09/2006 3:52 pm  
Blogger Brit in Hokkaido said...

I feel exceptionally dull *and* unattractive now.

Probably because I went to Warwick!

10/09/2006 5:26 pm  
Blogger galatea said...

Don't worry, we aren't prejudiced. In fact, some of my best friends went to Warwick.

10/09/2006 5:35 pm  
Blogger Léonie said...

I went to Warwick, so I am slagging us all off in the nicest possible way. We're nice, just not that attractive.

10/09/2006 5:50 pm  
Anonymous paul haine said...

I nearly went to Warwick, and if, like you say, it's full of unattractive people who stay in their rooms and play computer games, I feel now that I missed my calling.

10/09/2006 7:13 pm  
Anonymous Laura said...

Actually, she does have rather large and fat feet. But I don't think it's enough to make up for her being absolutely beautiful, getting a first and AND being a really really nice girl.

10/09/2006 9:20 pm  
Anonymous galatea said...

Exactly. Big fucking deal. As it happens, I've got amazingly pretty feet (and model-standard hands) but I can't remember ever being chatted up on the strength of that.

And she got a First? Oh well, I suppose it was only from Nottingham, darling (cue throaty laugh of snobbery).

10/09/2006 9:48 pm  
Blogger Tamburlaine said...

It's all about viewpoint, isn't it, and how small things can change one's attitude. I liked your description of you and your friends though.

10/09/2006 10:09 pm  
Blogger Bowleserised said...

Galatea – the having attractive hands thing could work very well, as long as you don't attract a fetishist. A chum of mine once "bedded" a leg fetishist, and said that it was extremely dull as he just spent the whole time rubbing her legs. There was nothing else in his repertoire. Zip.

10/10/2006 10:07 am  
Anonymous galatea said...

My hands - hot or not? Decide here.

10/10/2006 5:29 pm  

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