When I was recently given the reins of The Crasher, I was suspicious. I'm a notorious homebody, more likely to be found on a Saturday night in my PJs hiding under a Doona with a pizza than tearing it up on the dance floor. Which is problematic if you write a column about leaving the house regularly (I'm still not entirely convinced this isn't some sort of intervention by my friends and family). I've fallen prey to many pitfalls as a newbie night owl, and now offer my wealth of ineptitude for your reading pleasure.
I give you My Guide to Leaving the House.
Step 1: Combine your interests with your proposed excursion.
As you may have discovered from reading previous columns, or encountering me after noon, I likes me a drink or two. So when an invitation from Hennessy Artistry to join them at the Star's colossal luxury club, Marquee, dropped into my inbox, I thought it was the perfect opportunity to challenge my body clock, which generally screams ''Retreat!'' if there is any mention of an activity that isn't watching Snog Marry Avoid? alone on a Friday night.
Step 2: Wear something that doesn't make you look like a pregnant woman from ye olden days (unless you are pregnant and from the past. Greetings, time-travelling matriarch!)
I'm apparently not very good at this step. Largely because I rocked up to the party dressed in what I thought was a very classy summer dress that with the right shoes and accessories would be appropriate evening wear, but in reality looked like some kind of summery tent hippies get married in. I was entirely at odds with Marquee's disco-prison aesthetic and garnered many looks of concern for my imaginary unborn child every time I slugged down another drink.
Step 3: Hang out with the coolest (ESL) person in the room.
It would've been a very lonely night had I not stumbled upon Malaysian DJ Eva T. The poor thing sat and tried to converse with me for 15 minutes, until the language barrier and crowd noise got all too much. She did offer me this advice: ''Be unique … Do anything you like … Create your own style.''
Thanks to her advice I will be rocking my own style at the next outing: Doona-chic.
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