Arriving at the Finsbury Town Hall in jeans and a jumper, hair bedraggled and mascara running down my cheeks, I was initially there to help set up, but within minutes I had been roped into dancing with the band (Cut-A-Shine), drinking far too much Red Stripe and forgetting that I was at a single’s night after all… Welcome to Barndating Heaven!
We do-si-soed ‘til the cows came home, with flowers in our hair and our cheeks blushed… Amelia was carried through the cheering crowd to call some dances and following her instructions couples entwined and herds of people trampled on each other’s feet and laughed and drank and kissed and laughed and everything was bloomin’ marvelous!
If you haven’t been to the Finsbury Town Hall before I advise that you do so – it is a beautiful space with original décor and eccentric light fittings (random, I know but true). The ceilings are soooo high yet still, the place was bulging with crazy faces by 10pm – men were donning handmade bows and women wore elasticated beards and everyone was having a jolly old knees up to some rocking country sounds. In the corner of the hall was a Romancer’s Retreat (beautifully designed and manned by an East-end creative duo Lightning and Kinglyface) where couples could go to ‘gaze into one another’s eyes…’ There were a few snoggers and a certain amount of loving was most certainly kicking off but by the end of the evening a few people were having a kip in there. Notes of confession were pegged onto strings in this haven of love, a certain pencil-scribble stuck in my head and read ‘yesterday when you called, I pretended I was asleep’ – ah it makes your heart sink doesn’t it!? But others weren’t quite so romantic, and more explicit, and bloody hilarious…
The evening was heady yet relaxed and I remember I spent a lot of time twirling around in my gingham dress and probably looking slightly mad, hence I didn’t spot my nice young farmer (haha) but the night was brilliant and I hope there’ll be many more to come… Cut-a-shine – you rock. All in all a very groovy night. (Sorry – groovy, maybe not the right word) All in all a foot-stamping, dress-twirling hoe-down which left me aching and laughing for days…
