High tea and tasselled nipples

Last Saturday was my friend C’s hen party, organised by Best Wench yours truly.

The day started with some proper old-fashioned civilisation – high tea at Fortnum and Mason’s, surrounded by layered silver trays piled high with sinful pastries, crust-free sandwiches and, of course, plenty of pink champagne. Several hours, a small pause and a quick change later and off we whirled to the evening’s entertainment at new favourite haunt Volupte, where Mama Jo King and her bevvy of lovelies entertained us over dinner with the twirling of tassled nipples and some really fabulous renditions of old classics including Shirley Bassey’s Big Spender and the inimitable Diamonds Are A Girl's Best Friend (ah, so true).

So today I'm thinking that it may be time to give up the day job and run away to join a burlesque theatre. The only problem with this marvellous idea is the conflict with my previous plan B, which was running away to sea to become a pirate. The two can't be completely incompatible, though - burlesque piracy, anyone?