If it’s black tie don’t keep it to yourself
LEST you confuse the word festival with mud-bespattered, boho casual or let it all hang out jeans and T-shirt, may I waft you go the genteel riverside splendour of the Henley-on-Thames Festival on Sunday eve?
Turning up attired for Glastonbury: he in baseball cap, jumper and jeans, I in droopy maxi and flip-flops, we were aghast to see le tout Henley bedecked in flowing chiffon, dickie bows and ancestral tiaras.
It was a black tie affair and no one had tipped us off. There’s nothing worse than turning up for an event in the wrong clothes. Most fellow revellers turned a blind eye to our unfortunate choice of casual wear.
A few wore expressions of darkest disgust. Cue hissed mutual recrimination. I almost wrote myself a sign saying, my other dress is a posh designer Jenny Packham.