Themed parties drive me bananas!

As the trend for costume parties seems to grow with every passing year, Donna Douglas calls for a return to some simple booze and dancing

Why Donna Douglas wants to forgo fancy dress

‘Who killed Lord Heathcliff?’ That was the question on the card that arrived last week, along with an invitation to go and help solve the murder mystery at Heathcliff Manor. As if that wasn’t enough, I had to go as Mrs Withering, the silent but deadly housekeeper.

As you can imagine, I was thrilled. As thrilled as a turkey that’s just had an invitation to Christmas dinner, that is. Now, I don’t know about you, but a pinny and a pair of brogues don’t really scream ‘party’ to me. And then there’s the added joy of getting stuck in the corner with the resident Poirot who insists on explaining why the butler’s alibi doesn’t stack up.

I’m telling you, it’s a high price to pay for a warm Pinot Grigio and a canapé.

There was a time when going to a party meant putting on your best frock and some heels, turning up with a bottle of fizz and dancing the night away. Now it’s more like auditioning for Eastenders or taking part in Mastermind.

It’s all about breaking the ice, apparently. These days we can’t be trusted to mingle on our own and make conversation with strangers: we have to do it dressed as Spongebob Squarepants.

Which leads me to that eternal party nightmare – fancy dress. It’s not so much an ice breaker, more a minefield. (Just ask poor old Paul Hollywood.)

Some people love it, of course. Say the word and they’ll be there, dressed as a Minion or Daenerys Targaryen, while the rest of us cringe in terror and embarrassment.

It’s so easy to get it wrong, that’s the trouble. Take the bad taste party I went to last year. I bought a truly tacky frock from the sale rack at Primark, but when I turned up there was a woman wearing exactly the same outfit. ‘Oh no,’ I laughed, ‘I see we have the same appalling taste!’ To which she replied, stony-faced, ‘No one told me it was fancy dress.’

A friend of mine once went to a movie-themed party dressed as Tippi Hedren from the Hitchcock classic

The Birds, complete with fake birds and blood. Unbeknownst to her, a woman at the party had a bird phobia. She cried whenever my friend entered the room and had to be taken home, sobbing. Another friend of mine who was working in America for a year decided he had to overcome his fancy dress phobia and get into the spirit of things when he was invited to his boss’s party. What he didn’t realise was that in the US, ‘fancy dress’ means ‘wear something smart’. His banana outfit certainly got him noticed among all the black ties. Didn’t do much for his promotion chances, however. Not so much an ice breaker, more like the big freeze.

But I have to admit, it can be a laugh sometimes. You certainly see a different side to people. I wasn’t too sure about a new colleague at work until she turned up to a murder mystery party dressed as a jockey. She was seven months pregnant at the time, and those jodhpurs must have been murder.

How can you not be friends with a game girl like that?

Another former colleague once got into a spat with a man she’d been teamed with at a party quiz night. They almost came to blows over naming the last five Best Actress Oscar winners. As it turned out, he was wrong and she was right, but she ended up marrying him.

If that’s not breaking the ice, what is?

‘It’s a high price to pay for a glass of warm Pinot Grigio and a canapé’