Tag Archives: party

All white everything: Moet Party Day review

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I recall at some point last year (after snubbing a TV clip of people at an all white dress code theme party having fun while I was bored stiff at home) I said to myself, ‘I’d like to attend a party like that someday’. Well June 11, 2016 was my lucky day and did I have a good time? Well let’s just say that I’ll be dishing out the good, the bad and the ugly.

Arrival: 

Arrival

The paparazzi at the Hard Rock Cafe gave me a warm welcome and I did my best to look like I didn’t give a s*** when in fact I did give a s*** (as you can see in my pose). I decided to go with the sporty-casual look for this champagne fest with the Ray-bans and white kicks to boot. I was given a brown wrist band and then ushered into the party zone (Please keep this brown wristband in mind as it will resurface later in this blog post).

The party had officially started at 12 noon but I arrived about 2.30pm when coincidentally the party was just getting warmed up, according to the MC as he mounted the stage with an all-white live band behind him. Ambience was 10/10 –

The patio furnished with white sofas graced with Moet & Chandon branded throw cushions, the bar area churning out champagne in both clear and all-white branded wine glasses (not champagne flutes surprisingly), and the swimming pool laced with folded branded white towels all rounded the pool edges was a nice touch. Inside the hall was a dining hall with an adjoining bar but the stage stole the scene with the DJ setup and overhead mega screen in the back drop. All we needed now was stuff to do.

Entertainment:

My sister and a few colleagues from work kept me company at the event, along with all the seated and arriving guests coming in their assorted mixes of white regalia. The live band got my pulse going and then I got interviewed by Pulse.ng though I can’t tell you when and where I’ll find that 10-sec clip but anyway…before I knew it the live band were nowhere to be seen. Shortly after the DJ took over and got everyone bobbing heads and shuffling feet. Next was the announcement about buffet lunch being served with a sauce clause – only those wearing the white band would be allowed to partake in the buffet. I was wearing a brown wristband – wahala.

At no point was I aware of any implication of being given a brown wristband after submitting my invite at the entrance. It was at the point of picking up a plate at the serving point that a steward told me my brown wristband only entitled me to champagne and not to the food on display. My brain understood him but my stomach didn’t. Fortunately I was able to improvise – white wristband? I stepped aside, turned my brown wristband inside out to the white side and picked up a plate of delicacies. It was only while I was munching away I noticed some unfortunate guy being harassed by a female steward because he was wearing a brown wristband and attempting to load his plate – seriously? after inviting guests it was a genius idea to segregate on food? Well if that wasn’t bad enough I needed something cool and bubbly to wash my food down so what better than the drink of the day – Moet & Chandon right? Wrong. I got to the themed bar outside on the patio and was told the champagne was finished…at 3.30pm? That was only an hour after I got there! So what’s the point throwing such a party if drinks were going to run out before 5pm? I was perplexed to say the least. Some guests were still arriving and I even noticed some trying to argue with the M & C bartenders but even all the bravado got these guests nowhere as they all told that they could get a M & C bottle at the inner bar…at N40,000 (insert indigestion here).

Departure:

My friends and I had laughs and took loads of pics. We even bought a couple from the multiple photographers manoeuvring throughout the event. But I expected some giveaways to be distributed either on our way in or on our way out. At least that would have made the experience of depleted champagne a forgettable one. I caught sight of music artist Brymo and TV presenter Eku Edewor. I also caught sight of some ‘movement’ in the swimming pool (I never said it was empty, lol).

Generally I had a good time but I must say that the organizer/Lagos-based M & C ambassador should take note in future to keep the champagne flowing throughout the event and also engage the guests for a more cohesive crowd of fun lovers. Here’s a couple of shots of what went down…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cLKhWJ5LRHY

Now take a look at how Moet and Chandon celebrated in Croatia and tell me who entertained better –

I rest my case 😀

Article by @dcrazynigerian

5 Errors That Event Planners in Nigeria should avoid

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banquetIt appears there’s one bandwagon a good number of Nigerian entrepreneurs are jumping into – I call it the EPX (Event Planner Xtravaganza). Everywhere I turn there’s an event planner handling a wedding, book launch, seminar or some other shindig. Clearly the demand outweighs supply because there’s an event at least every weekend somewhere in Nigeria – Good news for event planners; bad news for the host’s bank account. But if you’re going to go into this kind of business you might as well start the product (or should I say service) differentiation early. Five common pitfalls I’ve come across are Continue reading →

I is for Invitation

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Invitation /ɪnvɪˈteɪʃ(ə)n/ a written or verbal request inviting someone to go somewhere or to do something  (Google definition). A written or verbal request inviting someone to an event which he (usually a ‘he’) may not necessarily be allowed to partake in … Continue reading →

Life is a beach

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Last Saturday I got a taste of what I wanted early retirement to feel like. I was whisked off by speed boat to a secluded beach house not far from Ikoyi motor boat club in Lagos Island. My party of friends were a crazy bunch whom all had busy, demanding jobs. This was our chance to let loose and party…hard.

We had a DJ onboard and there was enough alcohol to open up a mini bar. There was spicy barbecue turkey with a variety of sauces for dipping. We were about 20 people in total, both men and women, and most of us came prepared with swimming gear to test the nearby pool.

The beach house had two floors all made of solid dark chocolate coloured wood. Nobody stayed on the ground floor though. The action was upstairs where the DJ set up shop and blasted tunes from Hip hop greats to Local legends. The top floor had a mini bar (empty on arrival of course) and a balcony with five single foldable beds to savour the ocean view. There were also two open bedrooms with single beds. There was a centre table with colorful plastic chairs. The toilets and shower rooms were downstairs next to the beach house, along with the barbecue stand. It was indeed a sight to behold.

We commenced drinking at about 1.30pm and danced for the first hour before some of us decided to disengage for other activities. Some went to play volleyball in the swimming pool, some went for a walk along the beach shore, and some others went to check out swords being sold by a scary looking Northern Nigerian warrior (bizarre, I know).

There was dancing, drinking, laughing, swimming, jumping, singing, hugging and posing. We took so many pictures and recorded quite a few crazy videos which I would only upload if given general consent. I made some new friends and got a few more blackberry contacts. Something tells me this won’t be the last encounter. Enjoy the slide show!

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Senior High – 1st year

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As the principal of International School Ibadan announced that the JSCE (Junior Secondary School Examination) results would be posted up in front of her office I felt nauseous. I wasn’t sure if it was bad luck to have already gotten trouser measurements done at my local tailor before the exam results were released. What if I didn’t make it through? My trousers would be bloody useless and I’d have to endure another year in I.S.I wearing a pair of A.H.Is (AssHole Irritants).  Girls had no problem because their blue-white striped dress/uniform didn’t have to look any different from junior to senior year. Thankfully I breathed a sigh of relief as I attained 2A’s and 5C in my 8subjects (I’m not mentioning what I got in Yoruba language). I vaguely remember jumping up and down like a deranged rottweiler that had a piece of meat dangled over its head. I proceeded to run into the nearby open field with fellow classmates who also sailed through the exams. We ran like we were being chased by… Rottweilers. I almost failed to take notice of the few guys whom we left behind moping at their inadequate grades and therefore bore long faces (okay, not like Rottweilers…more like Dobermen!)

Of course this next chapter in my school life called for a celebration. I took it upon myself to have a small get-together for my ‘Class of 1993’. Unfortunately I didn’t have an much more than the Naira equivalent of £10 back then which could just barely cater for about 20-30 guests max (I must have been nuts!). I invited 25 schoolmates to my cousin’s crib where I resided, about 60 eventually showed up and filled up almost every part of the house! I soon quickly realised that 48 bottled drinks (2 crates) would not quite cut the ‘3:1 guzzling ratio’ of my invitees. The 2 small coolers of cooked rice and chicken didn’t go round because I didnt plan for the following: Boarder boys and girls sneakings out of their hostels; Geeks/Nerds/Bookworms/Efikos gate crashing; and schoolmates from the set below mine (JSS3) also taking advantage of the fact that I did not have a bouncer to ‘man the door’. So I had geeks playing video games in the TV room, boarder girl escapees changing clothes in my cousin’s bedroom, boarder boys slow-dancing with girls in the living room whilst my Aunt was within the house. There was no DJ but just one raga tape being put on the loop courtesy of all the horny boys hoping to literally tap some ass from a slowdance. The 5kg cake and 2 tubs of ice-cream I had planned for dessert was not going to be able to feed THIS multitude. This wasn’t a get-together…this was a get-together-everybody-who-heard-about-this-party. I mean some of the guests there didnt even know my name or the fact that I was hosting this fiasco. To make matters worse, the girl I had a crush on was busy slowdancing with some guy I didnt even invite, Meanwhile I was busy trying to feed the hungry, entertain the bored, and save my shaky reputation all at the same time. I was glad when it was all over, to say the least. The house  survived with 2 shattered drinking glasses and a broken window lever. I on the other hand remained intact!

In an amazing twist of fate, I was hailed by the majority of my set for making a noble effort at throwing a shindig (which  I’d rather remember as a ‘shit-dig’). The geeks were even more grateful because they knew that they may never gain such easy access into a party again. I somehow became everybody’s pal…the one who didn’t discriminate…the one who didn’t stop the music and shout “ALL BOYS OUT!” and proceeded to reveal a list of boys who were not given the fake invitation cards…no, I wasn’t seen as cruel…I was Mr.Nice guy Subsequent parties got better and better (no thanks to me). I do remember one guy who threw a party but would have sooner thrown himself over a bridge after only 1 girl turned up amidst a house filled with over 15guys…a case of bad advertising? Well, the grub didn’t go to waste.

Ah yes, those grey trousers really were worth the 3 year-wait. I was ‘toasting’ girls a one class year or two below me and feeling pretty cool with my skinny self. I was later appointed by my principal as the school’s Health Prefect, though for the love of God I never found out what a health prefect was nor did I know what my responsibilities were supposed to be. I just made sure the sick bay was hygenic and wasn’t congested or saturated with students who were feigning illness. I was given a badge which I wore proudly like a sheriff. If only I went guns blazing a little less when it came to asking a girl, ‘Will you go out with me?…’