FS is arguably the St Andrews event of the year – and so it was (well, up until now). We entered through a dimly lit marquee corridor and were engulfed by the scent of woodland. Pine branches entwined with roses lined the walkway and the oh-so-stylish event photographers captured the glamour of the lace, chiffon, floral, strapless, backless, sideless, floor-length, black, magenta, maroon, navy, tuxed, tied and tweed-clad guests. There was even a controversial man in a tank top lurking in the crowd… Not sure that’s the greatest look, even at the best of times.
The event was exactly what I expected it to be: full of beautiful people, cheering and dancing alongside the horseshoe catwalk – on which ‘fierce’ St Andrean models strutted down wearing designer labels. There was also a LOT of falling over (guests, not models). By my last count, at least seven high-heels had toppled, taking with them chairs and sometimes their companions. This had quite a hilarious domino-effect. I think the champagne on tables was the tipping point – pre-drinks started at five thirty or six, in time for show start at seven, would inevitably lead to the number of tottering people (imagine Bambi’s first attempt at walking,) I saw removed from the premises.
The catwalk was very impressive – a colossal marquee, decked out with monumental sound and lighting systems, made it hard to believe I was in lil’ old St Andrews. The event and auction will have earned the worthwhile Muir Maxwell Trust donations to help provide support for sufferers of epilepsy and their families. The after-party was epic, perhaps 20-minute DJ sets were a little short-lived, but the music was generally so good that no one really minded. Intense light displays and a (somewhat spacious) dance floor provided a great setting for those who were ready to party.
In my eyes, the whole event was a memorable experience worth doing at least once.