We had the chance to relive Madonna in her heyday on the weekend. For Lacey’s hens do we were told to wear 80’s garb and we were going to be rockstars for the day. I wondered where on earth I’d get an 80’s outfit from, but it appears there is a little revival on for 80’s ‘fashion’ right now and I got my whole garish ensemble in H&M.
There was another girl angling for the same hideous layered lace skirt me, and I wanted to tell her that I’d be wearing it as a piss take not because I thought it was fashionable! If you’ve done the 80’s once then I don’t think you can get away with doing it again.
So all kitted out in neon, with far too much plastic jewellery and offensive blue eye make up, we rocked up to the studio. We were taken through the drill of what we had to do and we were a little bit nervous at first, but that fell away very quickly and soon we were belting out the tunes. Our playlist for the day was Like a Virgin (hahaha), Girls Just Wanna Have Fun (very hard to sing as it’s so screechy) and my favourite Bangles hit Walk Like an Egyptian. It was a fabulous few hours of laughter and countless photo opportunities. Lovelace has a freshly cut CD, signed copies are available on request!
The soiree continued at Cocoon where we had a cocktail masterclass. It was great to watch and the cocktails looked delicious. I’m not drinking this year (much to the amazement of a couple of girls when I was up dancing a bit later on) so I just smelt a couple of them. Some of them were eau de rocket fuel and I was happy to steer clear, but the passionfruit martini and berry bramble smelt like the winners for the evening.
We didn’t need drinking games and dare forfeits, Lacey assumed the drinking position early on. She undertook her remit as cocktail connoisseur very seriously.
We had our own private room at Cocoon which was great for privacy and girly bonding times over lovely food, champers (water champagne for me) and knicker guessing games. We’d been strictly banned from games of any description, but we had to sneak one in.
I left the party people just after the witching hour, as the girls started shaking their asses in the window facing the street. There are some bonuses to not drinking, one is not having the memory of shaking your ass to the bus stop at Regent Street, but none more so than waking up bright eyed and bushy tailed early the next morning. I suspect a few people wished they could swap heads their aching heads with me on Sunday morning 🙂