Friday, 17 December 2010

The thrill of the swish

Our Christmas swish at Pelham House in Lewes went amazingly well, with around twice as many swishettes as our last one in Brighton. You'll have to take my word for that though, as Madame la Moue and I FORGOT TO TAKE ANY PHOTOGRAPHS. BECAUSE WE ARE IDIOTS.

Idiots who were extremely busy, it must be said: Madame la Moue was physically holding back scores of swishtini-cocktail-crazed women, high on the heady vapours of the free clothes macerating beyond the closed doors behind her...

...meanwhile, I was in the next room with our super-fabulous My Swish team, who worked like Trojans-on-benzedrine-washed-down-with-triple-espressos to get the clothes graded, tagged and hung within the hour. Poor Charlie actually turned white with the effort of getting through OVER 500 ITEMS OF CLOTHING IN 60 MINUTES!!

When the swish opened (a mere 10 minutes late, miraculously), women actually ran - ran! I kid you not - past the cordons and up the steps towards the clothes. I virtually had to hurl myself out of the way to avoid being trampled in the rush.

As Mrs H pointed out, however, this is the buzz of swishing. It's all about being part of an event - in the thick of the camaraderie with the potential of securing untold fashion treasure if you can only hold your nerve and maintain the keenest eye, the swiftest hand and the most mongoose-like cunning under the toughest conditions this side of Basra. If you can do all this, you'll be a man, my son. Or something...

Ah, that little rallying cry has filled me with an Agincourt-like zeal to be back in the fray again. Fortunately the New Venture Theatre in Brighton is holding a clothes swap this Sunday and the My Swish team will be there in force. Once more unto the breach, dear friends!

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