14 stages of Christmas party paranoia every Londoner will know

What to wear? Who to talk to? And what the hell did I get up to last night? There’s no end to the anxiety invites can induce. Sophia Money-Coutts confesses her festive fears
Are you party paranoid?
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Sophia Money-Coutts26 November 2015

There are two sorts of people: those who hear the words ‘party season’ and think, ‘Hurrah! Time to put on a spangly frock and crank up my Mariah Carey Christmas album’, and those who hear the very same words and want to hibernate until January.

I like parties at other times of the year. Parties where you don’t have to drink anything cinnamon-infused. Parties where you don’t have to twerk to ‘Here Come the Girls’. Parties where you aren’t forced to snog someone under a bit of twig.

But by December, it’s as if the pressure of acting normally for the preceding 11 months has made everyone collectively mad. And it’s too bad if you’re one of those sorts who’d rather stay on the sofa, sifting out the blue Quality Street, because you can’t easily avoid the hysteria. You’ll be labelled Ebenezer. And that won’t be your only concern. The festive season is packed to the rafters with things to worry about. To prove it, here are my 14 stages of party season anxiety…

1. DO I HAVE A JAZZY ENOUGH DRESS?

First things first: it is apparently the law that women must wear sequins at parties in December. So although your wardrobe is festooned with more party dresses than Harper Beckham, you worry about whether you’ve got anything sparkly enough. You can’t possibly wear the shimmery silver number you bought from Topshop in a similar panic last year because it’s got Jägermeister stains down the front.

Christmas party looks

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2. THE JOURNEY THERE

You can’t get the Tube in a dress this sparkly and heels this high. You look like Danny La Rue. Instead, you’ll have to Uber to the party, even though it’s surging. You then get stuck in traffic on Piccadilly. You start sweating into your new dress, worrying about being late. FFS, of course the traffic is murder. It’s December in Central London. What were you even thinking? God, you’re stupid. Why do you even get invited to parties?

3. HOW MANY KISSES?

You arrive at the party and cast your eyes around the room. Someone you vaguely know catches your eye and waves. Help! One kiss on the cheek? Two kisses? A handshake? One kiss on the cheek and then that awkward bear-hug thing? This is particular agony if you’re at a work Christmas party. If you can’t bear touching of any sort with your colleagues, tell everyone that you have a ragingly infectious cold and you don’t want to infect them. Cough a bit for good measure.

4. TOTAL NAME AMNESIA

‘Hello, I didn’t know you were coming!’ says someone you’ve never seen before in your life. ‘How’s that damp problem in your flat?’ Christ, you must have met them. Then, worse still, someone else you’re certain you don’t know walks up to you. ‘Hi! I haven’t seen you for ages!’ they say, before looking enquiringly at the other person. They both look at you. Just smile back and wait for them to start introducing themselves. Listen to their names. Then say, ‘Oh God, I’m so sorry, how rude of me. I’m very slow tonight. Must be this dreadful cold.’ Cough a bit more.

5. WHERE ARE ALL THE CANAPÉS?

You can see trays of battered prawns out of the corner of your eye. You can smell them. You can’t even concentrate on the serious conversation you’re having about migrants because you can see other guests moving towards the trays and gobbling them up. Greedy bastards. Suddenly there’s a tray of mini quiches at your elbow. ‘Oh no, not for me, thanks,’ says the annoyingly thin woman you’re talking to. So you smile politely and say no as well, although inside you’re screaming, ‘Give me ten of them because one isn’t enough to fill a hungry mouse.’

The fish canapé conundrum
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6. BREATH PARANOIA

One of my mother’s many rules in life is that she won’t eat fish canapés at parties on the basis they give you appalling breath. I have inherited this phobia, so tend to be quite torn when I see any kind of salmon-based canapé. On the one hand, I’m so hungry I could eat my own hand. On the other hand, do I want people to flinch when I talk to them? NB: cocktail sausage breath is similarly grim.

7. WHAT AM I GOING TO INSTAGRAM?

Obviously you have to Instagram a picture from this party. Otherwise how will everyone know how wildly popular and social you are? You’d quite like to Instagram a picture of yourself looking fabulous in your shiny new dress, but you need to ask someone to take it. Hmm. Oh look, there’s Jeff from IT. He can take it. You get Jeff to take 56 pictures of you in the same pose, then spend ten minutes in the loo applying various filters. You upload it. You have to admit, your hair looks excellent. You return to the party and check your phone for Instagram likes at ten-minute intervals.

Obviously you have to Instagram the party
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8. TOO NOISY

Why is the music so loud when we’re not in a club? You can only hear one word in three, so nod at whoever you’re chatting to. ‘That’s so funny!’ you say, pretending you can hear them. They look a bit confused and lean in. ‘I was just saying my dog died last week,’ they shout in your ear.

9. TOO HOT

Sequins are boiling. Why did no one ever tell you this? You can feel beads of sweat breaking out on your forehead and start trickling down towards your eyes.

10. EX ALERT!

Shit, they mustn’t see you all sweaty. Quick, go to the loo to hide and mop your face.

11. CAN I GO YET?

It’s 10pm. Is it too early to leave? You wonder whether you can sneak out without anyone noticing, but when you go to the cloakroom your (married) boss is in a clinch with a girl from accounts.

12. ENFORCED SHOT DRINKING

You quickly reverse out of the room and someone forces a shot glass of brownish liquid into your hand. ‘What is it?’ you bellow over the music. ‘It’s called a Jingle Balls, ha ha!’ they shout. ‘Jägermeister with tequila, a dash of Kahlua, a bit of cinnamon and an egg yolk. Try it!’ You knock it back and they hand you another one. ‘Delicious, isn’t it! Come on, have another one.’ You have another one. Then another one. Then maybe even another one after that, but you’re not quite sure, you slightly lose track.

13. THIS SONG'S GREAT, LET'S DANCE

You kick off your shoes and start dancing. In your head, you’re Beyoncé. Parties are fun! Why do you worry so much about them? You really should loosen up a bit. Wooohoooo, let’s do some slut-dropping to Slade.

Time for a getaway cab?
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14. WHERE AM I? WHO AM I

You wake up the next morning and grope for your phone. It’s not where it usually is. And who on earth is that person next to you? They wake up and tell you you’re in Clapham. Right, that’s it. You are never going to another party ever, ever again.

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