It’s official. I am a Louche Literatis.
A what I hear you cry?
Actually, I’m not sure I know what that is either, but according to the Telegraph newspaper, in a recent article, that’s exactly what I am. And sure we all know you must believe everything you read in the papers!
On Tuesday I attended the Harper Collins annual summer party, in the gardens of the Victoria & Albert museum in London.
Mind you, The Telegraph also said that once the summer party was over and done with, authors all swan off to Greece or the South of France for two months. Er …
I must have missed that memo because they’ll be no swanning off anywhere for me. Curracloe Beach maybe if the sun shines.
Perhaps I’m only half a Louche so.
I won’t lie, but I was fierce excited to receive my embossed beautiful invite from Harper Collins. I’ve followed tweets and Facebook updates from fellow HC authors about this event over the past few years and wished upon a star that I might get the official nod one day.
So, I felt like fecking cinders when it arrived, I really did. This Irish princess shall go to the ball.
Pre-party drinks were arranged with author friends Hazel Gaynor, Fionnuala Kearney, Cally Taylor and Michele Gorman.
We started as we meant to go on, with Kir Royales all round. We’re troupers us gals.
Of a week night no less.
Kir Royales in The Rembrandt
Wearing my ‘Carmel Harrington Author’ badge, (proudly – I may start to wear it everyday), we tottered on our high heels into the garden of the V&A and I must confess that I had a little surreal moment, where I pinched myself.
(One of those, we’re not in Kansas anymore Toto, kinda moments)
With Hazel Gaynor, Cally Taylor, Michele Gorman, me and Fionnuala Kearney
When a cold glass of champers was shoved into my hands by Fionnuala, I realised that I wasn’t dreaming.
It was time to mingle!
The garden was heaving at the seams with authors, publishers, agents and press. Most of us were hanging out by the wondrous seafood bar, and no sooner than we supped some of our champagne, had a go at the oysters or octopus, than a waiter appeared to top up our glasses. Trays of delicious canapés tempted us, but I was too caught up in the atmosphere to think about food.
If champagne wasn’t your thing, a cocktail and beer bar was on either side of the garden. So as not to be rude, I wandered down and chanced a mojito too. Delicious. There was also a fancy pants salad bar and a dessert bar full of heavenly sugar wonders too.
Buffet anyone?
There were lots of celebs walking around, wearing their name badges just like me. That kind of tickled me. As if anyone needed to be told who David Walliams or Judith Kerr were!
David Walliams and Judith Kerr having a goss.
Despite my best efforts to nab a photo with Mr Walliams himself, he dodged me. He did walk by several times, but always with an entourage. I could have touched him, I was that close, but that would have been weird, and might have resulted in an Irish eviction.
Next time Mr Walliams. Next time.
The sun shone as did the people. I got to catch up with the rest of the Irish crew, sales director Tony Purdue (legend), Annmarie Dolan and author Alex Barclay.
Great chats and giggles were had with Claudia Carroll, Anouska Knight, Amanda Brooke, Sarah Morgan, Cressida McLaughlin, Debbie Johnson & Fiona Harper, amongst others.
Debbie Johnson, me, Hazel Gaynor & Fionnuala Kearney
Having the craic with Anouska Knight.
With my gorgeous pal Claudia Carroll
With my editor Charlotte Ledger and author Fiona Harper
Best of all, I got to celebrate my latest book deal in person with my publishers and makers of dreams come true – Kimberly Young and Charlotte Ledger. Much clinking of champagne glasses and general giddiness all round. (Ok, I may have been the giddiest.)
Charlie Redmayne, CEO of Harper Collins, charmed us all with his speech, even if some cute ducklings tried their best to upstage him!
Charlie Redmayne bants with the best of them.
Attendees also were invited to a private viewing of the famed Alexander McQueen exhibition. For anyone who has seen it – you’ll understand this next comment.
Bring out the gimp.
The after party was held at Boujis, which is apparently the place for all celebs to be seen. We stayed there but a short while though, because the Irish were starving. Classy girls that we are, Fionnuala, Hazel and I went on an epic journey around London in a black cab, in search of a dirty burger and a bag of chips.
Soakage needed after all that champagne. As I said, classy girls.
So my verdict on the annual famed Harper Collins summer party? Well, unlike Cinderella I didn’t lose my shoe and despite staying out much later than midnight, their wasn’t a pumpkin in sight. Result.
Was it a good night? Nope.
It was fecking amazing.
P.s. I’ve been asked over and over where I got my posh frock. I like to shop local and that beauty is a Ruby Rouge dress, from Gorey, Co. Wexford.
