Wyndstock Revelry

'Ill met by moonlight proud Titania', Oberon greets his fairy queen, and oh what a chat up line that would have made at Wyndstock's dreamy Midsummer Night's Ball last weekend.

Houghton Hall

Pulling into the grounds of the amazing Houghton Hall, the tone of the evening was immediately set - one of glamour, decadence and a nice touch of the debauched thrown in. 

The party opened with lunch (running inevitably late, we sadly missed this), followed by lawn games and tea. There was even a yoga lesson for those wanting to get their stretches in.

A girls affair, Jessouin, Em and I wandered the gardens, glasses of fizz firmly in hand, soaking up the atmosphere. It felt more as though we were at a friend's wedding than ticketed soirée and this lent the evening a lovely intimate feel.

An amazing swing band and accompanying tap dancer soon got us on the dance floor and swinging our legs like goons, working up our appetites for supper.

At 9pm we sat down to eat, long tables laid out, fellow revelers mixed and matched and ready to tuck in.

The food was good - simple, but hearty, the venison stew warming us as the night cooled.

Darkness fell and the bonfire was lit. The hot tubs nearby were opened for dipping and a fair bit of nudity ensued - not by me (somewhat uncharacteristically).

As midnight struck, we hoarded into a small nearby tent for ghost stories told by the mesmerising Giles Abbott. I'd forgotten quite how lovely it is to be told a story, and the still silence of the tent suggested that everyone else felt the same.

Fireworks called us back outside and marked the real start to the night, the impressive display perking us up and pulling 'ooh's' and 'ah's' of appreciation from the crowd.

The ultimate Fourth Wall

As the night danced on, the party moved to the woodland, where this week's Fourth Wall bar had popped up. The best saved til last, Elderflower cocktails and some neatly mixed 90's hip hop had us dancing 'til dawn. 


It was only when the sun was up that we finally traipsed back to our tent, giddy from the night's magic and wrapped in our Midsummer dream.


'Lovers, to bed; 'tis almost fairy time...'

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Queenie's Diamond Jubilee

Yippee! Thank you your Majesty for your 60 years of reign and the mega long weekend it affords us. 

Lightness of Being - Chris Levine, 2007. Currently on show as part of the The Queen: Art and Image exhibition at the National Portrait Gallery

London is coming to life this weekend and it feels like we're spoilt for choice in things to do and see in and around the city. Here's what's on my hit list, not all of it as patriotic as p'raps it should be...

Friday night I'm off to God Save the Clam, a big seafood cook up on a rooftop out East organised by Rock Lobsta & Pitt Cue Co. Tickets for Friday's clam bake are sadly already sold out, but they're open for lunch and dinner over most of the weekend so try your luck. With DJ sets and an inevitably fun vibe, you could even just head over to sip a drink and tap your feet at the Banshee cocktail bar.

Saturday, I'm BBQ-ing at my darling Rosie's but, if I wasn't otherwise engaged, I'd be right on board the Field Day bandwagon. As festivals go, it's a good'un and this year's line up looks sweet as (mate). There are still tickets going, and if you fancy making a festi-weekend of it, you can get a good joint-ticket price that'll get you into Sunday's The Apple Cart too.

Sunday's main event is obviously the river procession that will be taking place from 2-6pm. But if boat's aren't your thing, there's a whole load of other delights to take you from day to night, starting with Bourne & Hollingsworth's Her Majesty's Party in the lusciously leafy Bedford Square. With a whole lot of bunting and a swing dance or two, this will be a perfect quintessentially British way to spend the afternoon. This week's Fourth Wall will also be resurrecting itself in the square for Friday and Saturday night.

If you're after a more rough and ready affair, The Book Club will be hosting their own Jubilee Street party which, whilst the priority wristbands are out, they're saying they'll get everyone into. Could be fun for a quick knees up with the fab Guilty Pleasures DJ's on the decks. 

Later on, I think I might head to the Secretsundaze Jubilee Bank Holiday Special at the House Club & Terrace in Greenwich. A neat way to see the boats go by without the mad crowds that will inevitably line the riverbanks. 

Monday will be delightfully un-manic, a long lunch leading nicely into an evening of live music at the Cable Street Electric Open Mic. It seems an elusive event, but I'll give the goss once frequented. Sounds a bit Sofar Sounds. In a good way.

If you're still going, however, and looking to keep the party alive, check out Coppafeel's Festifeel. Curated by Fearne Cotton, it's happening at The Queen of Hoxton and has a pretty impressive line up (Lianne Las Havas has just been announced). All proceeds from tickets go towards the worthy work of the charity, ensuring early diagnosis of breast cancer.

This will definitely be going in my cupboard.

Tuesday is the day of rest, and it's home time for me to see my beautiful Mamie. Good thing she's French, think I may have had my fill of our right royal Britannia by then.

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Buckingham Palace Tea Party

Summer arrived in the nick of time for this afternoon's tea party at Buckingham Palace. Don't ask me what I was doing there, but with a love of tea and cake and a hope for a (second) meeting with my-husband-to-be, Harry, it was with a skip in my stockinged step that I left the office and headed for Grosvenor Gate.

Sadly I can share few snaps of interest as my mother has banned me, claiming that 'it's just not what 'one' does'. But here she is, looking charming in the rose gardens

It was an amazing afternoon, so completely British and quietly classic - crowds of people hushed by the presence of royalty, with only the brass band(s) breaking the calm with their blustery show tunes. Aside from a few slightly more garish prints on ladies dresses, it could have been 1952.


The tea itself was unsurprisingly delicious - cucumber sandwiches with mint, little almond cakes topped with cream and raspberries and nutty fruit cake all taken on the startlingly green lawn before the Palace.


The Queen looked lovely in a full peach ensemble. She was escorted through the crowds of people, speaking to a selected few. My mother was adamant that I be presented, her mind set, her mission unstoppable. So out came the snap taken of me giving flowers to the Queen aged 3 and, cringe though I did, we were soon put in place to meet not HM, but HRH Prince Philip.

Nigel Luckhurst 1990

What the above photo doesn't show, is a cross little girl two minutes later when the Queen, having smiled and thanked me, turned away before I'd done my curtsy. Bear in mind, there had been weeks of practice for this moment with my mum - I wasn't letting it go. I grabbed HM's skirt, turned her round, and bloody well did my curtsy. 


Suffice to say, it wasn't quite the approach I took today and after a 'Your Royal Highness' and a painfully awkward leg bend (who has curtsied since baby ballet days?) we exchanged a few words before mum and I were ushered back into the crowd.


After a turn about the gardens and another cup of tea we stepped back out on the streets of London, just on the other side of the gates to the Palace but a million miles away.  


Now I just need to get to Harry... maybe his Gramps will put in a good word?

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