Saturday night gone

Out and about in Bandra Bandstand

Saurday night was fabulous. I donned a black number with my sky high Jimmy's -of course. Hair was out and lots of black kohl on the eyes to give me that smoky mysterious look. Of course once I open my mouth all mystery is lost...forever- but it's fun to play dress up. HRH looked pretty fine himself with his black on black sharp as a knife look too.
Bandra Bandstand thankfully offered us the teeniest of teeny breezes that evening so that we could comfortably nibble, sip and mingle.  And so we did. The apartment (which makes mine look like a friggin kids size shoe box) was gorgeous. There were candles and flowers everywhere and all the doors were open leading onto the super sized wrap around balcony. The beautiful white columns shone in the moonlight and it all felt very romantic. Sort of Arabian nights meets Mumbai magic...you could have said.
There were over 80 gorgeous people there ranging from expat's to Mumbai locals to extended family members. And I met some fascinating people. A famous gossip magazine editor, an amazing man who was part of the fight for freedom in South Africa (I was actually in tears listening to his stories), Spanish wine importers, various businessmen from just about every field, stunning art gallery owners from the super cool south and of course lots of interesting ladies who do volunteer work for various NGO's.
Our hostess runs a chapter for a globally organised NGO that does amazing things for rural children in desperate need of reading materiel and a space to do it. She is a very generous, intelligent and of course beautiful woman who I am so glad to have met here in Mumbai.
Of course said hostess had one or two cocktails in circulation and the bartenders just kept refreshing my glass willy nilly so before you knew it we had a group on the dance floor including "moi". Suddenly that ever pleasant breeze seemed to just vanish and within an hour all that toe tapping madness caught up with me. I walked into the bathroom to freshen up a little and mop my brow daintily as one does in India. Indian women are annoyingly composed and ALWAYS immaculately turned out so you can imagine my horror when a rabid raccoon peered back at me in the mirror. Argh. I literally let out a scream. Of course the bathroom attendant (yes as you do in India) came to see if all was well with "madam" and I quietly reassured him that it was all good. It was then I realised that there was no toilet paper left in this particular bathroom...oh shit. I had streaks down to my cheeks. Black long smudges. I looked like Alice Cooper. No. Can't leave. I had to throw water over my whole face and scrub with my bare hands to remove the black traces staining my face.

Queenie as the clock strikes midnight

Of course it was dark in the room we were dancing in so that's why no one had noticed. When I walked out of the bathroom my face now had RED smudges all over from the scrubbing and all my make up had washed off. I looked quite possibly worse. Checking my wrist I saw it was 3 am. Perfectly fine hour to leave. I located "HRH" who seemed pinned in a corner by a very large Scottish man. I whispered into his ear without making eye contact that it was time to leave. Luckily he got the hint quick smart and after discreetly thanking our hostess with the mostess and her hubby we left. Well that will teach me right for wearing all that mascara and eyeliner and eye shadow. Forget mysterious from now on love.

Peach Martini satisfaction

It's now a good laugh in hindsight. What a great night once again full of tears, laughter and dancing with wonderful new friends. Thank you. I am loving the wonderful memories and new adventures to be had here. It's not always champagne and caviar but samosas and peach martini's suit me fine.
Queenie x