All Aboard! Swing For Skin!

Last night we went to Swing For Skin, a fabulous 40s themed party in aid of DEBRA UK. A fabulous floating party, for it was aboard HMS Belfast near Tower Bridge; a wonderful location with stunning views.

I was squealingly excited to wear my red brocade Poppy Valentine dress for the first time, too! I paired it with a green sweater which I felt lent a certain air of Christmas-tree chic - but who wants to be a wallflower? Here's a reasonably sensible photo. We got turfed off the tube part-way there (Not just us! The whole Jubilee Line!) so grabbed a swift ale and cabbed it the rest of the way. Personally, I could get used to such things, we'll have to see what the Lotto brings...

Elegant, bar the pint of Tribute.

We trotted up the the gangway to the ship itself about 8pm (well, I trotted, His Lordship strode in his usual commuter-style way). The whole place was decked out in bunting and there were some superb dancers demonstrating swing on the deck. We were presented with our free drinks tokens and am afraid to say rather than exploring the fascinating historical structure we went for the Pimms quick-smart.

We met up with vintage chums old-and-new - all fabulously decked out in superb frocks. Lisa of Snoodlebug was wearing the yellow dress she blogged about and it really was amazing; the 30s detail was even more exquisite in real life! We both met this fella too...

Quick, stub it out, teacher's coming!!

...what a cad, he hangs out on the smoking deck and chats up any vintage lady popping by. Disgraceful, bet he has a blogger in every port. Anyway, he might look rebellious with his ciggy and hoody but he was a bit too much of the strong silent type, being made of plaster as he was.

It was great to catch up with vintage buddies and meet some great blog writers and vintage experts - Gemma of Retrochick (who gave me some provenance on my dress, she remembered the brocade being bought!), Naomi of Vintage Secret was there in a resplendant polka dot number, Lady Cherry and Penny Dreadful also looking fab. And of course Landgirl1980 was in her absolute element, looking amazingly 40s and turning her wicked sense of humour on some of the more... erm... eccentric elements of the decor:

Mwaha. The details really make the ship!

This doesn't truly represent the sheer terror of these uber-steep steps.

I didn't get any photos of the afternoon tea, because we hit it. Hard. Nommed down quick-smart: selected finger-roll brioches with ham, egg and smoked salmon. Scones with jam and cream. Delicious chocolate cake and Madeira cake. Yummy yummy.

Alongside a vintage DJ, singers and a compere who appeared to be a bizarre combination between Terry Thomas and HRH Prince Phillip of Greece. Seriously, he said ding dong no less than four times when calling the raffle! Hilarious! Sadly I didn't win the raffle (had my eye on the gin, natch), but I did get some Locks hat vouchers in the silent auction so I may well be getting yet another baker-boy cap. But, like, an £85 one. Wow. [Goes into silent reverie].

At the end of a sober, educational time aboard ship

Come the end of the night, His Lordship decided to be sensible and get the late tube home. Unfortunately all sensibility I may once have had was long gone, and our merry little band went in search of a pub that was still open. Luckily, I had some experience sourcing quality real ales and premium spirits in the Borough Market area (OK, OK, I've been on a few pubcrawls there). So we found a suitably vintage pub - in that it hadn't been painted since 1976 - and gave the landlord a bit of a turn by trouping in vintage-stylee. I believe some people partied on afterwards! I was ever so slightly sensible after the pub turfed us out and got a cab back with a kindly cabbie who told me of the ills of women drinking, swearing and the like nowadays. I didn't like to mention my pre-cab antics to him. I think the Poppy Valentine gave me an unfair air of class and glamour. Which is yet another reason to wear vintage and quality British designer clothing.

I will leave you with that thought, in the style of the wise words at the end of a sit-com. Yes, it was a larf, but I like to think I learned something.