So last night I planned to briefly pop into the Jameson party at Shimmy Beach. My plan was to have a quick drink, say a few hellos and then bugger off home to bed ‘cos I was super tired and not really feeling the vibe. Typically, I ended up having a total blast and crawled out of there around 2AM after they shut off the music.
In a sentence: Jinnne, wat ‘n partytjie!
If you follow me on twitter you’ll know I threw a bit of a tanty when I arrived and saw a queue that wrapped around the building. Fortunately, this resolved itself by the fact that A) it moved super fast and B) my friends Jeff and Tracy were right at the front and managed to suck me in along with them. (I know, life is horribly unfair.)
Once inside, I couldn’t believe the turn out. It was insane. Like every man and his (very glamorous, sexy) dog was there. They had this MASSIVE stage set up in the sandy faux beach area and Toya de Lazy, who I love, was absolutely KILLING it.
I didn’t spend too much time inside though. I stationed myself on a bean bag with friends outside, nestling up to the comforting glow of a big ass ice bucket o’ booze.
Thus, as I type this, a mixture of vodka Red Bull, Moet and blood is pouring out of my eyes but it was worth it.
Aside from the fun ‘we don’t have to go to work tomorrow’ feeling, it was a hot boy fiesta. One such gorgeous creature being my beautiful ‘launch buddy’ Pieter, the grooming ed for GQ.
I mean, come on, who else can rock an ASOS studded leather jacket meant for meisies and not end up looking like one of the Village People? Love you Piet.
Oh! And then another one of my potential future husbands rocked up; actor Siv Ngesi.
The moment that stupid restraining order expires you should spot the four page spread of our lavish winelands wedding in Huisgenoot and Drum.
Oh! And my darling Thandie, socialista extreme, was also out and about along with Sue Duminy and a very pretty girl who kind of-sort of looked a bit like Kim Kardashian.
It also took me a while to figure out that Sue was the blonde and that she was married to cricketer JP Duminy and not, in fact, a minister of the kerk. (Denzel had introduced us and was all ‘Oh, grab a shot of Sue Duminy for your blog, she’s divine’ and all I heard was ‘Grab a shot of Susan, she’s a dominee‘ and I thought he was trying to say that it was cool and rare that this hot blonde was also up with Jesus. *Facepalm*)
In my defense, I’ve always been rubbish with sportspeople that aren’t Ryk Neethling and once, ten million years ago, mistook Breyton Paulse for a porter at the airport. I ran up to him in a panic, threw my bags at his feet and demanded he drag them all the way from one side of OR Tambo to the other. To his credit, he did. Clearly his mama raised him right. He also refused to accept the five rand coin I tried to foist on him afterwards.
Anyway, like all killer good evenings, this one ended up at the Woolies Engen on Orange where I may or may not have ordered a Debonaires Something Meaty pizza, rolled it up like a wrap and eaten it while sitting on a pile of braai wood. (Okay, okay, so I totally did! Classy!) Alas, as I’d had a leetle too much Moet in me, I didn’t realise that I was essentially eating bread covered in boiling hot lava-cheese. So now, as I type, bits of skin are literally flaking off the roof of my mouth. If anything, I am completely and utterly disgusting. But I also had an absolute jol.
Sjoe Shimmy! You sure know how to throw one helluva party.
P.S. Oh God. My camera tells me I got to the point of dronkness where I started shoe stalking. Shimmy had some very well heeled guests.
If you were worried it was the type of place where you couldn’t wear heels, don’t stress; you totally can. There’s loads of ‘ground’ and ‘floor’ to walk on, not just miles of beach sand a la The Grand. Promise.