Black tie

A few weeks ago I was invited to a black tie do at the Castle Green Hotel, taking place this evening. With the best will in the world, it's a pretty charmless venue, and also I wasn't sure how much I like the whole ethos of the black tie event. But I accepted anyway.

Despite that, I can't say I was much looking forward to being sat at a table of what would most likely be strangers, or eating the results of large scale catering or, indeed, the speech by the guest of honour on the dubious topic of the merits of HS2. Plus I was becoming a little more resolute in my opinion that black tie dinners were, unfortunately, mostly for wankers.

Eventually I realised why I was looking forward to going and that was for the sole - and also dubious - reason that I'd get to wear my bow tie. Some years ago, I learnt to properly tie this arcane item of decorative wear and the opportunities to exploit this knowledge, along with the cool of undoing one's tie at the end of the evening, are too few and far between.

In the end, the evening was made tolerable by one neighbour, who was interesting and also not drinking, and slightly distressing by the other, who was too drunk to talk but keen to be friendly and join our conversation. As I made my exit just after the sadly predictable speech - "world class railway blah blah blah" - I wondered whether I would come to one of these events again. 

If not, I think I have to face the troubling prospect of being the sort of person who wears a bow tie when they aren't at a black tie dinner.