Lockdown may have put paid to them for now, but they’ll be back, and I can’t wait
Who knows, in this time of compartmentalised living, when the house party will return? That incongruous mix of debauchery and a kitchenette. Queues for the bathroom as long as those for Michelin-starred restaurants. Sinks filled with ice and beers. Half-crushed paper cups on windowsills. For some reason, always liquorice-flavoured rollies.
House parties are wonderful because 90% of the time they overdeliver. Usually, one dreads them – and then you’re faced with excitable chat between people who are dear to you and those who are not; but, who knows, may become so.