Went to a fashion party in Cannes last night, purely in the interests of making new contacts for our fantastically exciting new business venture. It sounds glamorous doesn't it, fashion party, Cannes, I mean, how could that not be fun? I hate networking with a vengeance after 20 years working the London showbiz party and launch circuit (lots of bad canapes, cheap wine and even cheaper celebs) but had my best schmoozing hat on. The reality was arriving 15 fashionable minutes late to find two screens showing archive footage of the catwalk collections to an empty hotel bar, being charged 10 euros for a miniscule flute of Champagne which I drank a bit too quickly by myself as there was no-one to mingle with, all the while trying to look like I was a busy career woman in demand by emailing Iain, various pals and my friend's 13-year-old daughter so that I didn't look like Billy No Mates. I came home, took off my not-trying-too-hard-but-
No comments:
Post a Comment