Thursday 10th December 2009
Christmas! What a subject! Daunting , yet thrilling. So much to get right!
Do keep looking to see how I card, present, menu, frock, hair and teeth, as well as go to and create functions. Not to mention the sales, which we must mentally prepare for at the same time.
Break-down is a risk.
Who better to launch Christmas than Peter and Ned. They are new and international. Their early blast-off, last Saturday, was because, of course, they jet out on the 16th. Peter is actually an employee, of some huge glossy company in London’s West End, but he works on the same floor as the CEO and often encounters him in the lav (no, not like that). Ned is also an employee, but travels extensively on business in business class and has air miles.
So that’s all right.
The night before Peter brought HR’s Head and various other Heads from his office back for what he called a career-boosting dinner. They encountered Ned still in his underpants (it’s a warehouse apartment, you see, the single vast space lightly divided) but this was a better start than might appear. In fact the grandeur of the start could not have been surpassed; you can be absolutely sure these people had never before seen such glamour, such table settings, such a warehouse apartment, such cupboard finishes, such flooring.
Peter needn’t have worried. Poor Little Rich Gays are always one up on any boss figure by definition – in the home setting.
So the next day – last Saturday – was their Christmas Party. Parties are what warehouse apartments are for, especially one as superbly sleek and honed and utterly finished as this. Actual living is a side-line going on in cupboards and drawers that slide away. There’s space, space, space and no stairs.
It couldn’t have been more comfortable and airy and lavish. I sat on a sofa (I won’t stand now I’m 50) with an older gentleman who has never been an employee; we discussed the ins and outs of lining your walls with fabric, sidetracking into novelty condoms. Neighbours, fellow warehouse-dwellers, abounded. There was a whippy, athletic young man who cycles 15 miles to Richmond to do the Pentathlon, big in the computer game world (probably not Poor Little Rich Gay, lucky for him), another whippy young woman in a fitted jersey frock with a bald boyfriend, both in advertising, a delicious German straight man with male friend (not girlfriend’s weekend for coming over), the gay couple from the penthouse, one a chef and former restaurant owner with a string of nursing homes, and the other an artist and designer. Non-residents guests included Peter’s ex-trainer, chronically straight, but accompanied by a gay hair-dresser from Wanstead who is living with him. This hair artist has an absolutely top-drawer designer apartment in Hackney, but on purchase it emerged there is nowhere to park his Porsche. So out of grandeur and spite he refused to move in.
Suddenly the big thing at this party was forging into other people’s apartments for viewings. With Peter, I went round the whippy advertising woman’s place and then we all marauded into the home of the gorgeous German man. I thought I’d share it with you, through graphs. I know it’s not a Christmas theme but fascinating to see how straights in their late twenties at a certain level of income are living – with some PLRG touches, do admit, but others veering miles away.
Back in my own res, I was filled with bitter shame at the flexes all over the floor. These warehouse apartments are so finished.
The Straight Apartment with Warrior Movie Showing
What is this Contraption? The Metal Finish must be Expensive
A High-end German Ham Holder
The Coffee Corner
Products, Products
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