Last weekend was our local charity ball, which every year raises a very decent amount of money for Macmillan Cancer Support, Action Medical Research and, this year, Wish Upon A Star. We must have attended every one in the past 8 or 9 years, always on the same table of friends, and it is always a bloody good night.
This year was a 70s theme, Boogie Nights, though thankfully it didn’t require themed dress. But I caused a few ripples at home by saying I might have a little look for a new frock. Husband executed a gleeful jig when I returned saying I couldn’t find anything. I would have to recycle one of my old dresses, a pale pink one which I’d last worn about 6 years ago. No-one would remember.
Room looked fabulous – magnificent table centres, glitter balls, twinkly lights on a black background. Guests looked equally stunning: the hairdressers and spray tan salons must have had a cracker of a day by the looks of the up-dos, ringlets and tango-palette flesh on show. There were some gorgeous dresses; very envious of the 70s retro maxi-dresses which were ‘bang-on trend’ (I watch Gok, you know).
After dinner, Dougie and I made our annual trip to the Gift Trees. I’m a sucker for a raffle or a tombola but I love gifts trees more because there is always a prize; my kind of gamble. Two years ago we won a voucher for a chiropodist and a rose bush: thankfully one friend was particularly keen to have her corns seen to, so she swapped. We now have a lovely pair of pink rose bushes in the garden.