Sex and The City Movie just an excuse for female binge drinking
What is it with the British? Literally, any excuse and we're cracking open a bottle. This week Boris imposed his drinking ban on the London Underground. Unlike the French, who would have started torching things and gone on strike, the British viewed it as an excuse for a massive knees-up and began celebrating the joys of being paralytic on a cramped tube with abandon. Monday's papers showed delirious toffs in full evening dress brandishing bottles of champers, while everyone felt very pleased with themselves for giving the old liberty a jolly good send off.
Last night a friend and I went to see Sex and The City Movie at the Hampstead Everyman. I anticipated the place to be filled with smart north Londoners, explaining how they were there purely for the post-modern irony of it. Quite the contrary - it was like a scene from a Lambrini commercial. Everywhere, groups of women in Carrie-esque corsages and sparkly berets were clapping, squeaking and knocking back the white wine. As the film began you could literally hear the gush of oestrogen filling the air combined with the congratulatory chink of wine glasses.
We may not be as fun-loving as the Spanish, or as laid back as the Dutch, but Britain really stands out in Europe as a nation of people hell bent on pulling together, staying positive and making the best of the given situation. Four of you, one of me, I make that Pimms O'clock!