Last night we were invited to the Autumn Dinner with my in-laws at the Skinners' Company. For those who don't know, the Skinners is one of the “Great Twelve” of London's livery companies that goes back some 700 years (other livery companies are those like the Mercers, the Haberdashers, the Plasterers). Descending from the furrier trade, it is like a special club, where members (the Master, the Court, freemen and apprentices) meet regularly. The main purpose is charitable work, and although the Skinners is not a charity itself, it does a lot of work for society. The different livery companies tend to focus on different areas, and for the Skinners it is mainly education and helping the elderly. (If you are interested, you can get more information on their website http://www.skinnershall.co.uk)
The dress code for the evening was 'Dinner Jacket', and the invitation said 6.30 for 7pm.
My gorgeous in-laws, Dick and Jennie, were very excited that we were coming, and had agreed to come to our house first, where we would then take a taxi together. 'Book it for 5.45pm, so we don't miss the champagne reception' said Jen... Now anyone who has children will know that this is rather a terrible time to have to be anywhere. It was also my aupair's birthday and I had rather naively given her the day off. With my dear sister in law Belinda set to babysit for us after work, it dawned upon me that how exactly would I get to the City by 6.30pm if Belinda wasn't able to come over until 7? I can't leave 3 children under 5 to get themselves washed and ready for bed (although if I'd just shoved them in front of Nick Jnr with a large bowl of sweets I reckon they wouldn't have moved for a least a few hours). My Aupair is a person of grumpy nature at the best of times, so I passed the mantle to Dom and made him call her and ask her to come back home for a couple of hours.
With this all set, I decided (why not?) to get my hair done. I never get my hair done. Highlighted occasionally - certainly not an 'Up-Do'. But I had chosen to wear my backless dress, and I hadn't been to a black tie event for about 5 years, so I thought what the hell. A last minute panic booking, and a quick trip to Tescos to buy kids magazines and sweeties, I arrived for my appointment - 3 children in tow.
The thing about hairdressers is that they are a creative bunch. And never is it more exciting than when you get the opportunity to do an Up-Do. 'Classic' I said, when they tried to show me a Girl's World head that had been plaited and twisted and weaved into the most hideous style you've ever seen. After 3 rather handsome Italians blow-dryed and curled my hair all at once (best bit), with a lot of hair spray and cooing, the masterpiece was finally done. "What about these bits?' I say, pointing at 3 large sections covering my left ear that had not been pinned back. "Zis eez de tendreels! In Napoli and Parigi it is de new moda. I bin imageening your dress and zis eez perfecto wiz eet"... Ah... How do you disappoint a gorgeous little dark Italian whose been tugging your hair for 45 minutes? It would be like telling an artist to his face that you think his work is rubbish. So I left, tendrils and all, looking like an extra from Dangerous Liaisons, and hoping they wouldn't notice the large blob of supposedly out-of-bounds yellow felt tip pen right in the middle of their immaculate white sofa.
Assuming that my Lemon Drizzle cake with birthday candles over it and a card with some birthday money inside might soften the blow of re-calling our Aupair to work, alas I was mistaken, and was met with her worst of sullen moods, the one that has a way of permeating through the entire house, numbing any potentially cheerful ambience that might have been. Choosing to ignore this (she has been with us for a year, I am getting used to it), I ran upstairs to shove my frock on, slap some slap on, and hoping the dress might make the hair work. Thankfully it did.
Once in the taxi, I exhaled... We took the south-of-the-river route, which gives you simply the most breathtaking view of London in all her finery. The Houses of Parliament, Big Ben, the embankment, with cheerful little boat-restaurants boasting happy hour, and the river glistening in the sunny autumn weather. It makes you proud to be British.
The Skinners Hall is right next to Cannon Street tube station, down a narrow side road. It is a prime example of architecture in the City of London: a rather insignificant doorway that leads to a beautiful little courtyard, which in turn leads to a magnificent building, with stuccoed ceilings and panelled walls dotted with coats of arms and crowned with grand paintings.
Now, not having been to one of these dinners before I didn't really know what to expect. I imagined it to be rather full of old crusties who don't take much notice of what women have to say, with their neat and tidy wives who stand a courteous step behind, smiling meekly. How wrong I was! After diving for a nicely chilled glass of champagne, we immediately met some friends of Dick and Jennie. They were charming and welcoming, and obviously pleased to see us.
With a short moment to chat to each other, Dom and I were then interrupted by an older chap with a chin that betrayed his love of fine dining, followed by an attractive young man. Grandfather and grandson. What a wonderful pair! We spoke about all sorts of things, but what I loved the most was the affection I could see in young Zack's eyes for his characterful grandfather. And this spoke volumes to me. The Skinners Company is extremely traditional, and might, to an outsider seem a little old fashioned. However it is all about the young learning from the older generation, and the older generation learning from the young. It is a about giving to the community and trying to make a difference, whilst fiercely guarding it's history.
We had a delicious dinner, good conversation. There were no meek wives or arrogant men. There were young and old all sharing experiences. It was good, and I was pleased to have been part of it.
Addendum:
When I woke up this morning, the tendrils were still there. Not a good look with jeans.
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