Me and my camera in my home town, my capital city, my london

From scuzzy portaloos to slinky jimmy choos…the two social events I topped and tailed could not be more at polar extremes to each other..or could they? Despite the guests of The Summer Party at the Serpentine Pavillion starting the evening with great decorum, elegance and poise, once they got shitfaced on a truck load of expensive plonk their similarity to the Glasto crowd increased ten fold. Once they had been sufficiently lubricated they were dancing their designer socks off. The dancefloor got filled and things got a little messy. It was reassuring and very heartening to know that underneath all the glitz & glamour they just wanted to get wasted and party like anyone else. And they really rocked out. Throwing shapes, shaking their booty, hands in the air like they just didn’t care. It seems the desire to dance under various levels of intoxication apparently traverses all social stratas.

2manydjs who I had seen only days previously banging out tunes to the frenzied crowd from the inside of a giant metallic spider that spat out fire at Arcadia in Glasto (see last weeks pics)  were now doing pretty much the same, just to a slightly different demographic. Would these people ever be up to their knees in mud off their chops in a k hole? It seemed unlikely. So were these tippled toffs better or worse than the mashed up munters I had just been with? No. Just different. Strip away the exterior and cliche though it might be, we are all the same underneath. On the dancefloor we are all equal.  Now I must go and prepare the rest of my Miss World speech…

Me and my camera in my home town, my capital city, my london

Someone asked Tony Hadley when was the last time they played on a stage that small. The answer: Never.

The entertainment on offer for the Serpentine Gallery Summer Party was as A list as its party  guests: Spandau Ballet, Mark Ronson and 2manydjs. All headliners in their own right. The bill must have been eye-watering although based on everything else at this doo it looks like money is clearly not an issue for the organisers. Art now seems to be synonymous with wealth which I never cease to find ironic & slightly ludicrous as, by its very definition, is something which should exist for its own right and not for its worth. Try telling that to this lot. 

At one point Tony Hadley tried to get the crowd to join in a singalong. He had obviously clocked the demographic of his audience and declared in his best estuary accent: “You’re not too posh to sing are ya?” They were. They didn’t.

Me and my camera in my home town, my capital city, my london

This week’s photographs are from the Serpentine Pavillion Summer Party which was on just recently. This is an event I have documented in previous years. It is regarded as one of the most prestigious events of London’s socialite scene and is well documented in the press for its A list attendees. I thought it would be an interesting contrast to last week’s Glastonbury shots. The difference between the crowds is relatively simple. In Glasto it doesn’t matter what you wear, what you look like or who you are. At this function, these are the only three things that matter.

To say the guests are ‘dolled up to the nines’ is an understatement. Every posh frock, every designer item, every bespoke suit is top of the range. The women are doing their absolute utmost to outdo each other but it is a tall order, even for the leggy supermodels. Despite having probably spent God knows how long getting ready there is an entire team of make-up staff on hand to do face and hair touch-ups throughout the night. I  spent six days in Glasto without a shower and here I am with people who can’t get through an evening without getting re-glammed. Worlds collide.