Am I ever grateful to dgr roving reporter Adele Geras for agreeing to be a judge at the Costas just so we could get an insider view like this, yes yes book awards all very lovely but here's what you've really been dying to know.
You
know how it is: the room is packed. Your gold-and-silver sequinned handbag is
hanging from the crook of one arm; the champagne flute is clutched in your
other hand and your eyes scan the crowd for friends, celebs, famous writers,
and anything unusual which might be interesting for Dove Grey’s readers.
I had
hoped to give long and detailed accounts of everything, but the truth is, what
I got was a kaleidoscopic impression of many outfits and a good look at a few.
The few belonged to the other judges, with whom I was closeted for a couple of
hours and most were seen on people floating by, on the platform to get awards
and at the party afterwards. I did try to mention winner Stef Penney’s
apple-green halter necked taffeta dress and black shrug in the piece I wrote
for the Guardian and they cut it. There you go! Dove Grey is more indulgent of
these frivolities.
So
here’s where you’ll get the lowdown. Or some of it…there are a few pictures up
on the Costa website and I’ve asked for some more shots to put on my own
website and I’ll alert Dove Grey’s readers to that when it happens.
Sophie
Kinsella was the first judge I met. She has the tiniest waist and looks about sixteen. She didn’t appear to be wearing
any make-up and has a flawless complexion. She was in a wide, almost
crinoline-type black taffeta skirt which was caught up around the hem with
black taffeta bows. Her top was black too, but that skirt was the thing. Very Gone with the Wind and she looked
amazing.
Elaine
Feinstein was wearing the best wrap. She was in a plainish black dress but over
it…wow! All the glories of Byzantium seemed to billow from the folds of her long silk stole, which, when she was
presenting the Poetry prize to John Haynes, fell from her shoulders like a
stream of molten gold.
Carol
Thatcher wore a black, Chinese-style silk trouser suit but the lining was
lime-green satin which showed in wide, turned-back cuffs. She had a fuchsia
silk scarf around her neck and that made a beautiful contrast with the black
and the lime green.
Kate Adie was smart in a black taffeta suit, with
the peplum and jacket revers edged with frills, over a pink silk t-shirt or camisole. She, too, has
a wonderful figure.
Erin O'Connor is a model.Has any of you met a fashion model? They are a different order of creature altogether: taller, more elegant, more beautifully turned-out than any one else around.
Erin had a
black hat covering her hair, trousers that seemed to go on for ever and I was
mesmerized by her mouth: red and just the right red and the kind of make-up
that mere mortals never seem able to achieve. She was also extremely sensible
and had good judgement, I thought. If you look at her in the photo you’ll see
that she’s quite unlike the rest of us.
As
for the men, Clive Anderson was short of
cufflinks and had them brought to him. Francis Wheen was sporting a delightful,
colourful waistcoat and Simon Mayo had on a Fifties-style thigh-length dinner
jacket: grey with a black velvet collar. Very dashing.
Bud
McLintock, who organized everything most efficiently, also looked amazing. She’s very tall and
statuesque and in clinging, black low-cut jersey (I think it was jersey…I couldn’t go and examine fabrics
closely, you understand) she was a real knock-out.
Are
you curious to know what I was wearing? I
have to deal with shortness and
plumpness and went for black velvet two-piece with Spanish-type frills
at the
hem and the cuffs, sprinkled with a few sequins. I had on beautiful
teal suede shoes, too, which were fine at first but began hurting
like hell after midnight.
Once
we got out into the main crowd, things began to blur a bit. I did catch sight
of P.D James in the Ladies and she was looking lovely in a turquoise chiffon
blouse with long sleeves worn with black trousers.
Emily
Maitlis from Newsnight was in the skimpiest black dress I’ve ever seen. It was
like a short tube of satin, ruched and allowing lots of Emily to be seen. It
struck me that she was much thinner than she appears on TV.
You
couldn’t really talk to anyone properly. Jacqueline Wilson, the Children’s
Laureate, is one of my oldest friends and I couldn’t do more than kiss her and
notice that she was wearing a lovely, transparent blouse appliqued with flowers
in red, and blue and green. It was super to see her in something other than
black.
Anne
Fine’s guest was her agent Anthony Gough and he looked less like a penguin than
the other men, because he’d interpreted ‘black tie’ as meaning just that: a
normal tie, only black. Anne herself looked smashing and I’m sure she was
beautifully-dressed but she was sitting down and I only saw her face. The
lights weren’t bright either, which was something I was quite pleased about.
Esther
Rantzen was my neighbour at dinner and she was in navy-blue John Charles and
some very gorgeous jewellery. A woman across the table whose name I never
discovered gets the prize for the best necklace of the evening. It looked like
small, irregular stones made of silver, strung together. Annie Eaton of Random House wore a necklace of
pretty red discs, and I also spotted a few Chloe handbags and shoes that were
so minimal they had to be Jimmy Choos or Manolos.
I
went up on stage to present Linda Newbery with the Children’s books category
award. Linda is enviably slender and she wore a tailored dark mauve brocade jacket
over a camisole and her skirt was layers of stiffish black tulle. She looked
splendid.
Mariella
Frostrup was the Mistress of Ceremonies. She had on a dress in the shape of a
long petticoat: white section on top and black below.
My
guest was my agent, Laura Cecil, and she was wearing a beautiful skirt with
lines of sequins running from waist to hem. Her shoes are always beautiful and
on this occasion they were black slingbacks, powdered with some kind of
discreet glittery stuff, which looked magical.
I
wish I could have lined up every woman there and examined her closely…there was
too much to look at, too much to think about, and far too many outfits to
admire. These are just some highlights. It was, as they say, a night to
remember, even leaving aside the books. And please do all read the winner. “ The Tenderness of Wolves” is superb.
It will be made into a movie and they will leave out lots of things, so read it
right now.
Thanks Adele, you clearly punished your feet in the name of dgr scribbles and they must need some soothing , that's a pair of socks I owe you!
Now who can I send to the Orange Prize ceremony?
