I’m spending New Year’s Eve at my mother’s house, and she is threatening indoor fireworks. Unless there’s been heavy investment in the indoor firework industry since I last endured them in the 1990s, I predict it will be an underwhelming spectacle. Smouldering fragments bearing an unfortunate resemblance to ageing squirrel turds, on an old baking tray, do not make for a festive scene.
Because my podcast is about dressing up and fashion history, over the years I’ve collected hundreds of stories about the greatest parties of all time. My encyclopaedic knowledge of bizarre and beautiful moments from these epic occasions is absolutely not useful on a daily basis but it does come in handy for some inspiration during the festive period, especially for decorations and details. Let’s review some ideas that might be ripe for revival.
Legendary parties are not always lavish ones. In fact, it’s notable that the most expensive parties ever are often remembered as tasteless at best, era-ending at worst – either way they don’t belong on this list. Consider, for example, the Shah of Iran’s celebration to mark 2500 years of the Persian Empire which took place in 1971 in a tented city built from 37 kilometres of silk. 15,000 trees were air-lifted in to create a forest for the 50,000 songbirds shipped over from Europe. They all died within days because of the heat, before they’d even begun to rehearse the opening number “Let’s Get This Party Started”. I’m joking. But, if I’d spent £100 million on an event, I wouldn’t want to tiptoe around bird carcasses, either on or off the plate (roast peacock was served, and I much prefer chicken nuggets).
If you are not in possession of an empire, you’ll know that if the company is sparkling enough, you can have a rollicking good time with nothing more than a few packets of Pringles. But it’s also true that the best parties are exercises in world-building. They stop the clock and transport guests to a temporary, alternative paradise. They exist in their own microclimate of beauty, flirtation and plentiful catering, for one night only. And the best way to build is to decorate…
Let’s first acknowledge that, for most of us, there’s a layer of decorating I like to call “stuff all your worldly belongings into cupboards” before the real fun can begin. Unless you’re Deeda Blair and even your domestic detritus is picturesque, you probably need to factor in around four days for this tedious part of the process. So it’s fine to take shortcuts; my mother insists you should never, ever clean mirrors because everyone is flattered by a fine filter of dust (this is especially true if your indoor fireworks have smoked out your sitting room).
