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From: Party Category: Consumer Date: 01 June 2007 Time: 03:56 PM Review: I was exactly 24 hours late for Janet Jackson's after party at the Dorchester, and quite a spectacle for the dull richy riches as we (my gang of 3) marched out in our finery. To fill the void left by the non party we took refuge in Annabel's, the walk through Mayfair reeked of money and careless lives. With bold stride I passed the door men while behind me my companions signed the book, always good to remember the dives of old friends. There is no shame in staring, so I took none in returning the gaze to which I was subjected. At the far end is a dance floor for the acting out of fun and frolics. A desperate picture, magnum champagnes flowing, long nails gesturing, grey hair ogling. The exchange is depressing in its vulgarity, how it is played out - wrinkly old man money for fresh 30 something women in short dresses. The cliché boring. I felt relieved of the need to feel sexy and integrated, an outsider to enjoy the show. Three drinks for £42. The boredom of these people was astounding, the attempt at fun pitiable in the face of the money they were prepared to spend.