Practising elegance at The Ivy Club

Jess and I were catching up over Prosecco when we decided it would be really nice to take my Dad and his BAE out for a :

“Thanks for NYC,  we apologize for passing out from alcohol leading to the 3am apartment lock out incident”    dinner.

He sent a text back saying he wanted to go the Ivy club, we were thinking Yo Sushi. so we compromised we will go to the Ivy club but he may have to pay.

The ‘Thank you for NYC/sorry for the 3am lock out’ dinner plan wasn’t going to well so we decided to stock up on a few gifts to bring along:

Mr and Mrs Oyster card holders

Gin and Tonic coaster

Wind-up race horse.

Mug for Dad’s vegetarian BAE-(it reminded us of the time we took her to Keene’s steak house)

Obviously it’s not every day you get to go to these places so Jess and I decided to go to town with our “we are in the Ivy look” .  Jess kindly did my make up in 50s style

she went 60s

(not vein enough to take a selfie but heres the back of her)

After her small drunken comment comparing me to the munchkin kitten because of my abnormally short legs i opted for a long dress for this evening.

She went short and black because she can. (Bloody flamingo)

Never the less, we both looked elegant and ready for our fine dining night out.

We arrived in a shiny white corridor and pressed for the lift. A large spotless glass door flew open and nearly hit me in the face.

elegance loses a few points.

We just about made it to the bar in one piece.  I ordered a cosmopolitan for a little NYC reenactment. As it arrived I thought I should have ordered the Bloody Mary to review.

“Perhaps next time….?” highly unlikely there will be one. We may never know what the Bloody Mary is like in the Ivy club. (sorry)

Dad and his BAE came to join us and off we went upstairs to eat. Already Jess and I had built up in our minds a celebrity will be there and the massive Rolls Royce outside with MED1A as a number plate only enticed this thought.

We couldn’t recognise anyone (all old rich BBC types) Though, a large table of that cool Hoxton crowd walked in (you know, the men that wear bright colored jumpers and big caps with models around them)

they must have important to be dressed like comic books.

Now the food, I warned Jess not to order the salad as they just assume you don’t eat so the portions are fit for, well, the models on the other table.

I know tonight it’s all about  elegance and I should have ordered the Dover Sole and  de-boned it with grace which should then be followed by sipping green tea whilst lying about how full I was.

I would have done just that but Harriet Hormone is around to stay this week and  she decided to only red meat and chocolate will do.

Queue juicy rib eye and smooth chocolate fondue.

So glad The Ivy could cater for Miss Hormone. she can be quite the madame.

 more elegant points are lost.

It may have slipped my mind the (slightly worrying) , fiery dynamic between Dad and Jess that developed in NYC.

It goes like this: Dad interviews Jess about her life decision, as he if is Jeremy Paxman.

Jess  responds by winking at him and saying things like

“ Mr Newnham I know you want me as one of your own, who needs a private school daughter. I am way more fun. You will be giving me away down the isle, just you see”


“Mr Newnham you are like a gorilla, just so manly and…” 

“GIFTS” I quickly interrupted “We have got you gifts”

Thank god, I thought, whilst we all watched the wind-up race horse gallop around our plates.

(elegance at The Ivy- 0 points)



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