On Saturday, between my workout and my night out, we went to our friends’/ neighbours’ house for their baby’s first birthday party. Well I say “neighbours”, but they don’t actually live on Emerald Hill Road. They live in one of the shophouses on Saunders Road, which are for people who didn’t manage to get a place on Emerald Hill. We’re still friends with them though. The couple are both fund managers, so it’s ok. They’re quite nice, plus they’re well connected. When we got to the bday party, Flo told me that Michael Fassbender is the baby’s god father. Pretty cool, babeses!!
Just to clarify for those not so in-the-know, Emerald Hill Road where I live, is a beautiful quiet historic street off Orchard Road (which is Oxford Street/ Madison Ave equiv). EHR has amazing Chinese shophouses on both sides of the road, and lots of fab old trees and birds and stuff. V serene and atmospheric. It used to be a nutmeg farm, which makes it all the more awesome. Saunders Road runs parallel to EHR, and the backs of the Saunders shophouses share an alleyway with the EHR houses. Unlike EHR though, where our view opposite, through a mist of tropical foliage, is more beautiful shophouses, the houses on Saunders look onto… condos. Argh! Sucks to be them!!
We rocked up appropriately late, parked Max in a corner with Minecraft, and sent Mills upstairs to the playroom where the helpers and irritants were. The place was awash with Veuve Click (my kinda party – albeit on Saunders), so I got stuck in. Rude not to. Luke and Joanne, the hosts, had pulled out all the stops for their little baby princess. They had the band from Brix performing in the courtyard pool (!), and they’d flown in Mickey and Minnie Mouses from Hong Kong Disney. Obvioso they were compensating for not living on EHR.
Despite the unfortunate location, their house is gorgeous. I went out of my way to tell Luke and Jo just how gorgeous because I didn’t want them to feel uncomfortable or inferior about not living on Emerald Hill. I was complimenting them therefore thusly, to let them know that it’s no big deal and I don’t mind being friendses with them. I wished I hadn’t been so fervently complimentary though because, when Jo launched into a detailed descriptions of the renovations, it all got a bit dull-ski. She was like, “Yes, it’s so wonderful how the architect… he’s the landlord’s father, did you know that? And the landlord owns Tang’s, you knew that, right?… Well it’s wonderful how he maximised light and air flow, while putting back the original Peranakan features. So many of these houses are dark and overly-reno’d, and we were incredibly lucky to get this one.”
Because I had so authentically feigned interest, Jo then marched me around the house, pointing out the bloody lightness, airy-ness, and Peranakan-ness. Ok so yes, our house is dark, yes there are no original tiles or ornamental ceramic details or whatevs, yes we have the A/Cs running constantly, but hellooo! It’s ON EMERALD HILL ROAD!! So I had to say, “Oh babes, you are so lucky to have found this house! But what a shame it’s not on Emerald Hill! I’m really sorry (did sad face). I’m guessing it was a money thing, right sweets? I totes understand. Nothing to be ashamed of!!”
I backed up these kind words with my best Kate Middleton smile (knowing that Kate was in labour at that v moment, so I was smiling for the both of us, doubting that poor ole Kate was feeling particularly smiley right about then).
“Ha!”, Jo said, “You are too funny! A money thing!! Love it! Have you considered doing stand-up? Your dead-pan is so convincing!”
Thankfully, she kept talking.
“I saw a lot of places on both streets, and this one just jumped out at me. Love at first sight. Plus, on Saunders we don’t get so many tourists poking their noses through the gates and taking photos. That’s gotta be annoying, isn’t it?”
[Um, no. It’s AWESOME that people want to see into my house and find out about my glamorous lifestyle, and take pix, and love me because they love my house.]
“OHMYGOD yes, babes!”, I replied. “It is like soooooo annoying. I’m constantly pushing tourists out of the way just to get to my front door! I have to tell them, Guys, I’m just a regular lady trying to go about my bizniz, and peacefully coexist with you people, so will you pull-eeeeze make some space and let me get inside my house to my regular life of chilling by the pool on my roof terrace?? So so SO annoying!! But then they want selfies with me, and ask if I’m a natural redhead, and I’m like YES, boring!! Honestly, some days I think argh, why didn’t we just settle for a place on Saunders?! It gets embarrassing, you know??”
Jo laughed. And laughed. And laughed. And said again that I should do stand-up. What now, now??
When the baby came down in her birthday outfit for the cake, speeches and singing thing, I started laughing. The baby was wearing a pink tutu!! Have these people not heard of parentally-assigned gender stereotyping?! Lol, and they’re supposed to be such smarty-pantses!! Haha, it just made me laugh. Surely it had to be a joke. Hence my laugh-age…
Until I noticed that no one else was laughing and Flo dug me in the ribs, saying, “Fassbender at nine o’clock”. I glanced down at my hot Rolly to see that it was only 5.50pm, so I shot Flo a piercing look conveying, “Wtf are you talking about, it’s only 5.50, and that baby looks ridic, and my glass is empty so ffs if you see a waitress send her my way, and gosh I hope Kate is doing ok and has a girl…”
Flo totes Got It, as she always does. Within seconds, the staff were pouring me a re-fill. Praise be to the Flo-ster. Then this unbelievably hot guy starts making a speech about “my god daughter” and how fabulous she looks in her tutu. Next was the cake thing.
Just as the baby was about to singe her face, blowing out the candle, someone shouted, “It’s a girrrrrrrrrl!!!!”
So everyone got out their phones, and my goodness, how delighted we all were that Kate had had a girl!! What a great day for Brits everywhere. It was basically the best news everrrr.
Which meant that the bday princess somewhat had her moment ruined, but what do you expect when you live on Saunders? I’m sorry, that’s just how it is.
Luke and Jo tried their hardest to bring the party back to the baby in the tutu, while I realised that I’d only prepped myself for a sweet little neighborhood gathering, and hadn’t known I’d be in the presence of a celebrity hawttie. So I dashed upstairs, took a quick shower, re-did my face with Jo’s make-up, and sifted through her wardrobe for something sexier. I selected a fabulous Donna Karan outfit, and although Jo is a size up on me, it fit perfectly. I looked divine.
When I went back downstairs, Jo said, “Wow, you brought other clothes with you?! Haha!!! I love that, you’re hilarious! OMG, I have that exact same outfit! Donna Karan, right?”
Ya, whatevs babes.
I elegantly sashayed my way over to the hot guy (who had to be Michael) and introduced myself, “Hi! I don’t think we’ve met. I’m Emma-Jane, but call me EJ. I live on the better street. You should totes pop by some time, while you’re here. And I’m going out tonight to a great club with my girlies. Why don’t you come along?!”
He looked v impressed by my hotness, and I could tell that he was a tad overwhelmed when he said, “Hey, great to meet you! … Sorry but I just need to go over there, um away from you. God father duties, you know how it is, so ok, g’bye!”
It was a beautiful encounter, and it made me realise that, as much as he wanted to stay and chat with me, he had to make the ultimate celebrité sacrifice. He really had no choice but to attend to his duties. What an amazing, giving, self-sacrificing man he is.
All in all, it was a great party, and just because Michael couldn’t come out afterwards, it was still a terrific afternoon on Saunders Road. Well done our neighbours for making the best of their difficult circumstances.