Polly Vernon has her say
WHEN ALL THIS is over, I am going to go wild. Dangerously, decadently, inadvisably wild! I am going to gatecrash parties to which I am not invited, mainline martinis, insult the host; dance on tables, swing from chandeliers, outstay my welcome by days, not hours! I will be charming and rude and hilarious and shocking; indiscreet, bitchy – above all: drunk. Whenever I excuse myself and pop to the loo, people will ask: who is that woman? And no one will really know! Until it gets to the point where my reputation precedes me, at which juncture, I shall have to change my name, or up my game, and you know what that means… Oh, you don’t? Well – just wait and see!
I will hustle myself into the soft openings of chi chi restaurants, get papped falling over celebrity attendees as they make their way down the rain-slicked back streets of Soho, sparking epic beef between they and I, with both parties swearing vengeance, and the taking out of at least one mafiosi hit (mercifully resolved, before any blood is shed). I will have at least three scandalous affairs, the repercussions of which will be felt for decades, shaking public office, redefining our base sense of morality, inspiring major motion pictures and a Netflix Original (see me for casting notes).
When all this is over, I will go not merely out, not merely out-out, but out-out-out: to after-parties and hotel lobbies and quasi-legal speakeasies and boîtes de nuit. I will Uber in at dawn (completely, mysteriously, shoeless), pop a couple of Nuros, down a pint of water and smile to myself before falling into a deep, sweet sleep. Smile, at all the times I couldn’t do this, all the times it wasn’t allowed. I will relish my hangovers and never worry about tomorrow again, because over the last almost-year, I have done more than enough worrying about tomorrow, for a lifetime! I’ve got all my worrying-about-tomorrow out of the way!
When all this is over, I will dress not merely up – but up-up. I will cast aside my extensive tracksuit collection and instead embrace structure and hauteur and perilous fastenings and silk, tit tape and diaphanousness and hell heels and Spanx! I will wear not clothes, but rather: concepts! Confections, spectaculars, masterful ensembles, the likes of which the world has never seen before! I will never again dress for comfort, or because there’s no point in making an effort, it’s not like anyone’s going to see me. Nope! I will glam up and go forth, like a phoenix – no! A peacock! – rising out of the ashes of this dire, drab little time!
When all this is over, I shall explode into a post-covid world like it’s the Roaring Twenties – that 20th-century period of glitz, growth, experimentation and fun
– which, in more ways than one – name, for starters – it will be. Oh, and it is going to be marvellous!
Wanna join?