New Years Eve. The final blow-out. The full stop to the party calendar of the year. The night of hi-jinks and debauchery, mayhem, madness and merriment. It is all of that yes; but it is also the night of desperate lunges, inappropriate confessionals and dubious dialling. My NYE memories are littered with taxi queues and lack-lustre parties, ripped dresses, broken heels and smudged mascara. Bah humbug. Or perhaps my memories are skewered on account of the distinct lack of options I have this year. Where are my invites? Looks like me and my velvet maxi-dress have nowhere to go…
So, while everyone else panic-buys little-black dresses and customizes outfits with glitter and baubles, I’d like to discuss the options for the (small) section of the Irish public that are not party-bound this season.
Instead of buying a frou-frou dress (that’s going to be destroyed with one sweeping glass of champagne), why not buy an Electronic Sheep red bobbled hat? That’ll keep you warm as you stand outside in the ice-cold wind, watching forlornly as party revellers kiss underneath the mistletoe. Or why not treat yourself to some of Eilis Boyle’s cashmere arm-warmers? They will lend gravitas as you gesticulate wildly at the unfairness of it all. You could pull a really brilliant passive-aggressive move and don a Merle O’Grady dagger pendant; throwing metaphorical daggers at all the other party-invitees. Or, in a purely Machiavellian move, get yourself a Louloubelle leather Antler clutch, stuff it full of dollars (don’t you know the Euro is about to collapse?) and bribe your way into someone else’s New Year’s Eve party. Gate-crashing is so hot right now. At the very least, you can curl up in all your finest and conduct your own countdown…you, the cast of Eastenders and some party-poppers. You might not get to make full-use of the mistletoe, but at least you’ll have your stilettos and dignity intact.
