Since it’s not really every day business for me to attend celebrity parties, I was stoked to be invited to this one! Probably good that it was in a country where I don’t know who the celebrities are, or I would probably have made an ever bigger fool out of myself.
After spending a lovely day and a half at my friend’s beach house, we raised in to town to get ready for the Oscar equivalent of stage art. Not sure why I thought tanning without sunscreen was a good idea. Anyone who has ever tried to put on party make-up on a red – almost swollen – face knows that sunscreen is a party queen’s best friend. I forgot. My friend Opera Soloist and I caked on layers with ID make-up on our freshly tanned faces. It’s the inside that counts anyway – right…
All of Copenhagen’s sidewalks seam to be made of cobblestones. Thankfully we had changed into walking shoes on the walk (read: sprint) there. I had used some of Opera Soloist perfume and as we hurried over the cobblestones in our nice dresses (I had borrowed my friend’s and it was a bit too snug over my lungs) I kept sensing the nice perfume. The whole experience was so nice I later bought the same perfume and it’s like I’m back at that moment when I wear it.
We sneaked in the stage entrance in order to avoid the press. As you might understand, it was not me who needed to avoid the press. We hurried to Opera Soloist’s husband’s dressing room to change into hour nice shoes and make sure the lipstick was on.
The seats where amongst the whole opera ensemble which was cool so that I got to meet Opera Soloist’s co-workers and get a feeling for what her work environment is.
The gala was broadcasted live. It was hotter than Hell in the theatre. The whole thing was in Danish – a language I do not understand. My dress was a tad tight and my face was burning. Her husband does his number. He’s a good looking man with a fantastic voice. Finally there is a pause. We get cava to drink and mingle with the Danish stage celebs. What do you think sparkling wine dose to me at this stage?
We go back to listen to second half of the nominees. It is difficult for me to keep my eyes open. I’ve already taken my shoes off and tucked one of my legs under my bottom (a very nice way to sit in a dress – or not) when I notice that the darn camera keeps circulating by us quite a lot. It does not always have the red light on which I assume (hope?!) is the indication of whether it is filming or not. Aaaaand… I’m gone. Nodding off. Thank Heavens I don’t know anyone in Denmark who might be watching this now!
When the whole thing is over we run back stage to where the party is. I notice that my strapless bra is showing a bit. And Opera Soloist is pretty much flashing everybody if she turns in a certain way. What to do. More wine! Let’s drink until we don’t care!
Just as I’ve red in Swedish gossip magazines, there is plenty of food at the party. We walk along the tables and load stuff on to our plates. As I get to the end where the cheeses are, I put my plate down. The Brie is so perfect it looks like it has melted! My mouth is watering by now. I put the last of my cheese on the plate and top it off with some grapes. As I do this the whole plate falls to the ground. Food on the entire floor and on my shoes. We start kicking it under the table and I grab a new plate to make a new round. What is a girl to do?
The evening continued and all the nice Danish people tried to speak so that I could understand. There was enough gossip material to make a Greys Anatomy stage art version.
All good things come to an end and it was time for us to walk home. My plane back to Stockholm left at lunchtime the day after. Unfortunately the plane left at the same time as my management meeting in Stockholm started. I had given a heads up that “I might not make it in time for the meeting”. That was an understatement! The GM called me an hour later when I’m in the cab from the airport. They had been waiting for me. It’s nice that they think it’s important that I’m there, but I did not want to leave Denmark and Opera Soloist.
Our parents knew each other. We used to hang until we were 17-18 something. It was eleven years since we last saw each other. When she picked me up at the airport we both started crying. The next day and a half we spent just the two of us. It is so fantastic with a person who knows everything about me and I know all about her and there is no judgment and no denial. We know more about each other than our current closest friends or anyone else for that matter. It opened places in my heart and soul that I have hidden for such a long time. It was as if time was a clear gel and we could touch it, feel it and be in it.
It’s not going to be another eleven years until we meet again.
