24 hour glow up for the substack office party

I went to the Substack Office Party for Substack bestsellers which, as the name suggests, took place in the Substack offices near the Flatiron.

How you get invited to these bestseller events is a mystery and was the subject of much chat at the party, even though we were all there.

I had for a long time wanted to go to one of these events. I figured the first thing to do was to become a bestseller and once I did, I waited for the invitations to roll in but they never did. I wanted to go so much and knowing my time in New York was running out, I decided to take matters into my own hands and looked up who organises the events and emailed them asking them to invite me. Still nothing. Then Lucy S. messaged to ask was I going to the Substack Office Party and I thought FFS! No! I wasn’t invited! Anyway, it was the day after we were leaving so I couldn’t go even if I was invited (which I wasn’t). Then our move got pushed back a few days and though it seemed initially annoying, it did cross my mind that I could go to the party so I messaged Lucy to say I was going to ask to be invited one last time and she said I can bring a plus one, come with me! So I went!

One thing that’s taken a hit on prioritisation due to packing up an apartment and buying a house in another country - all while the kids are off school - is personal grooming. But once I realised I was going to the event, I sprung to life to make myself presentable. I didn’t beg, borrow and almost steal my way into this event to not look my best at it.

I booked a spray tan. As I mentioned last week, I’m the whitest person on the planet - a fact I briefly forgot until my brother took a candid snap of me in the playground and I was kind of shocked by how actually translucent I am.

I made a make-up appointment because I left my make-up in Ireland on a recent trip and I tried to buy some basics at Dublin Airport to tide me over but it’s not cutting it and basically, I have no make-up.

I made a hair appointment because I needed a colour and if I thought I was pulling it off, my lovely children informed me during the week that I have white hairs and “Is that because you’re old?”

In the lift on the way out, a lady complimented my dress and I gave her the full scéal about how I’m going out to a party and that I’m currently packing to move to Ireland and felt I needed something new so did an urgent purchase and I was so glad it worked out and she was so complimentary of it and she told me how an Irish woman on her floor with two young kids recently moved to Jersey - did I know her? “Do I know her? I was in her house in Jersey at the weekend. They are getting on great.”

It was so nice to leave the house.

I get my makeup done in Blushington and I love it. While I’m looking in the mirror at the final result, I notice chin hairs I didn’t get round to removing. There really is a lot involved in general upkeep of the body, isn’t there? My nails are bare too and I try to convince myself it is chic, though they are not entirely bare: they are slightly stained with beetroot from the pink pasta I made for the kids last night which they absolutely did not touch. The eldest outright refused and the youngest poured enough parmesan on top to enjoy it but once she got through the inches of parmesan (i.e. hit the actual beetroot), she declared it yuck and another pot of plain pasta it was.

I stopped into Nordstrom on the way to my hair appointment for a spritz of the Diptyque Fleur de Peau I’m still contemplating.

This is easily the most complimented dress I’ve ever worn. It attracts comments from men on the street which, in my 20s, would genuinely have offended me but it’s been so long, God forgive me, I enjoy it (while tutting and scowling at them and hoping a smile doesn’t curl at the end of my lips).

I have the blond Nanny lookalike again in the salon except this time she has black hair so is an absolute ringer for the Nanny and also, a complete knock out.

During the hair washing I’m left with my own thoughts and my own thoughts are: 1. I’m so glad not to be packing. 2. I’m so glad to be going to this party. 3. I’m not sure about this Fleur de Peau. Might stick with the same scent I’ve been wearing every day for 8 years another year or so.

I meet Lucy for a drink beforehand in La Compagnie and when I step in, the doorman tells me my dress is lovely. I tell him it’s the most complimented dress I’ve ever owned and he stands back to appraise why that is. He says it is the shape, the sleeves and the colour which he adds, really suited my skin colour. (Really matched shade 2 in Sugared + Bronzed more like).

I met great people at the party.

I met Grace Weinstein who is a riot.

I met Lailani - The Creative Plug who said this city belongs to us, we need to take it.

I met Evie. Such a calm and engaged energy. I loved it. I told her she seemed very content and she said she was very content. What more could anyone want in life, I told her. She writes amazingly about life in New York:

I met Isabel Cowles Murphy who was spunky and fun and as she spoke to me, I occasionally thought she looked like Cybill’s best friend from Cybill and when I got home and read her Substack I discovered that Cybill’s best friend from Cybill is her actual mom! I love this piece by her:

After the event, I took myself and my merch for a burger in Madison Square Park before heading home to sleep on a mattress on the floor because while I was out, Dave, Seán and a teenage neighbour did absolutely Trojan work dumping all of the remaining furniture. I don’t know what they did with the pillows but luckily, the biggest teddy in the house, Sprinkles Cupcake, is lying right there so I pull him over to lay my head.

If you’re a female writer on Substack and would like to go to a similar event in Dublin but with less (absolutely no) merch, I’m hosting a casual meetup Thursday 17 September at 7pm in the Fumbally, Dublin 8. Sign up here.