The political events leading up to the Spectator’s summer party on Thursday were so well timed that they gave the event a dreamlike quality. You wondered if they put it all in. If not the magazine, the new sponsors of the party, Netflix, who are not inclined to a little melodrama. The network has deep pockets, but are they deep enough to bring down the British government for the sake of a little friction?
We gathered at the Spectator’s maze-like offices in St James’ Park to find out. The gates didn’t open until 6:30 p.m. By 6:25 p.m., there was already a crowd clamoring to get in. Partly to get to Pol Roger, but mostly to gape. Instead of the usual pictures of Graham Greene and Joseph Addison, the walls were decorated with portraits of Ralph Fiennes and Regge-Jean Page, the handsome man from Bridgerton. House of Cards seemed more appropriate, but for some reason there were no pictures of Kevin Spacey.
Not everyone was invited. “I pretended to be someone named Antonio,” said a woman whose name was not Antonia. “I told the people at the door that I had won an Oscar. Is someone who’s won an Oscar going to show up uninvited?” That’s the kind of sass and ingenuity we look for in our leaders. Journalist prankster Nimrod Kamer broke in, impersonating Toby Young. He guessed correctly that no one would think anyone would want to pretend to be Toby Young.
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