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Fenella was back in business but the night of the flying Ferrero Rochers and an unfortunate encounter in an art gallery with her nemesis put a damper on her enthusiasm. But like a phoenix rising from the ashes, Fenella is ready to mingle again.
"Dear Diary, The last time we spoke, I believe I was making my hasty and decidedly inelegant escape away from my own personal hell: a private view where people actually wanted to talk about the art.
"Not only did I break my very strict no-running-rule, but I also humiliated myself in front of my soulmate, Dr. Dreamboat. I mean, we’ve only spoken a couple of times 'and I’m still not certain what his actual surname is; but I ran a horoscope match and it turns out we are 86% compatible. We’re destined for each other.
Since bolting out of that gallery lest I be devoured whole by my mortal enemy, Victoria Pinkerton-White (party planner, heiress, carnivore), I have gone into social quarantine in the hopes that the whole thing will have blown over once I re-enter society. It turns out I don’t suit the recluse aesthetic, so I have decided it is time for me to emerge from my cocoon of humiliation, to claim my rightful status as a social butterfly.
"A wise socialite once said: after making a dramatic exit, one must make an even more sensational entrance. And that, dearest diary, is exactly what I intend to do. It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single woman in possession of a desperate need for validation and a boyfriend, must start a book club.
"Without a book, a book club is simply a group of inevitably incompatible people resorting to borderline political statements or thinly veiled personal comments just to fill the silence. Although I’d love nothing more than to see Penelope’s husband (Stuart Sweater-vest) try to make conversation with my gal pal Bea who keeps her tongue loose and her yoga pants tight, this evening needs to be an awkward-free zone.
"After perusing Vogue’s ‘must-read’ list (is there any problem that magazine can’t solve?), I’ve selected a terribly trendy, but uncontentious contemporary novel by a twenty-something corporate banker turned fashion model, all about a twenty-something corporate banker who becomes a fashion model. Something for everyone, right?
"Perhaps more important than deciding who you want at a gathering is deciding who you don’t want to come. In my case this is a very short list consisting of a single name which inspires more fear and anguish per syllable than the phrase, “I’m sorry we don’t have that in your size.” Victoria is one acquaintance who will have to make do with hearing about my ‘hostessing with the best salad dressing’ when it’s trending on Twitter.
"Invites shall be sent to Dr. Dreamboat, Penelope and Stuart, Tabitha, vegan Jem, Bea and her new boyfriend Seb? Leo? Alex? (Can’t remember, they only met last week but are already planning a road trip together, I’ll just write Bea and guest to be safe!)
"The final, but most significant step includes everything from browsing Pinterest for appetizer inspiration, shopping for a brand new outfit, and folding the end of the toilet paper into a little point so that all your guests know that even your bowel movements are classy.
"The day of the book club finally arrived, and I couldn’t be less prepared. Despite my watertight three-step plan, my organisation crumbled after sending out invites. With little over ten hours until my guests arrive, I had no outfit, no Pinterest-worthy menu and I hadn’t read the book. It would be understandable if I’d been busy for the last fortnight, but that wasn’t at all the case.
"I honestly can’t rationalise why I do this to myself – it’s like somewhere, deep, deep down I find this vacuous lifestyle unfulfilling and pretentious; like breaking my back to impress people who pronounce ‘pasta’ with a long ‘a’ sound (‘parsta’) is as unrewarding as it is futile; perhaps the only person I’m trying to impress is myself. Ahh no, that can’t be it - it must just be the pressure of entertaining.
"I try to stay calm as I make a series of party prep compromises. I intended to create a smorgasbord of vegan, artisanal and rustic nibbles which combined unexpected but flavoursome tastes to wow all of my guests. However, due to time constraints I had to make do with hummus, and various things you can dip into hummus. Luckily everyone loves hummus and you can dip basically anything into it.
"For the main course, I buy two frozen flans from the fussy delicatessen which, as long as I stealthily dispose of the packaging, can definitely pass for homemade. I have to serve a quinoa salad alongside or the vegans will riot. Hopefully if I serve everything in beautiful receptacles no one will ask too many questions... Nigella Lawson eat your heart out.
"Instead of shopping for a brand new outfit, I settle on a cocktail dress with an ever so slightly suggestive neckline that I haven’t worn since last season, so hopefully no one will remember it. I do some seriously thorough research on the book as I frantically fold the ends of nine rolls of quilted toilet paper and hide any evidence that my apartment is at all lived in.
"My new elderflower reed-diffuser is working its magic, the flowers are on the table and the flans I have toiled over are heating up in the oven when the first of my guests arrive. Of course, it’s Penelope and Stuart, we over-enthusiastically greet each other and I am the epitome of charm even when I have to remind Stuart, dressed in an out of character cardigan (radical), for the umpteenth time that my name is Fenella not Fiona. We literally went to school together.
"Bea and guest arrive, closely followed by Jem and Tabi. Everyone is busy chatting and drinking when the doorbell goes again. This is it. My front door is the only thing between me and my destiny. I fix my hair, adjust my dress to take my suggestive neckline into definite minx territory, and apparently take too long as the doorbell rings a second time. Easy tiger. Giggling as if someone had just told me the funniest joke I’d ever heard, I open the door...
“Fifi, DAHLING!”
"No, absolutely not. This can’t be happening. Maybe if I close the door and open it again I won’t see my worst nightmare standing on my doorstep holding a bottle of Merlot. I blink again, but it is real. Dr. Dreamboat, accompanied by none other than Victoria Stinkerton-White...
"Heartbroken, humiliated but yours as always, Fenella xxx"
Read more about Fenella in Connect every month.
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