Every summer for the past eight years, to celebrate the UK’s bank holiday in August, hot London private members’ club and swanky A-list nightspot Boujis jumps ship for the weekend, hitting Ibiza for a ‘pop-up party’ that literally has people begging for invitations or bragging about their hedonistic hijinks, depending on which side of the velvet rope they were on of course.
So when I received a personal invitation to attend (despite the fact I’m not a member, I’m not from London and nor do I have any connections to that social set – oh wait, I did party with Prince Wills and Lady Kate at Pacha a few years ago, perhaps they passed on my details), I wasn’t about to turn it down in a hurry!
The location of the event was kept secret until 6pm on the day of the party… You know, I really don’t like surprises – how else can one plan their outfit? (OK, so the invite said dress code was bikinis and flip flops, but after dark? Really? I needed to know more.) Now, I may not have any connections in the Boujis camp, but I do in fact, have many a friend in high places here in Ibiza, so I did a bit of sneaky research a few days before and discovered it was to be held at S’Estanyol. SCORE! Of course I kept that little piece of info to myself – no point in ruining the surprise for everyone else.
We arrived at the early-by-Ibiza-standards hour of 10.30 to find the entire venue – which had been transformed into an open-air nightclub complete with VIP areas, tables with bottle service, dancers, DJ booth and pretty amazing lasers – was totally packed! Boujis runs on UK time I guess, no matter where it may be.
Glamorous wannabes were desperately clamouring to get in, the queues were 50 people deep and it was at this stage that I once again thanked my lucky stars to have my Ibiza connections, as the dashing head doorman winked and whisked us to the front of the queue and we were inside in seconds!
The businessmen and blueblood brats I’d read about in association with Boujis were definitely either nowhere to be seen, or in off-duty holiday mode, as the entire atmosphere was laidback, ultra-social and more than anything, up for a good time. There were the bronzed. There were the buffed. There were the beautiful. There were even babes in Boujis bikinis!
As we maneuvered our way through the sandy dance floor to get to the bar – no mean feat given just how many revelers were already getting their groove on, batting oversized (I’m talking one-metre long) Boujis glowsticks – it was nice to see fresh faces and some fabulous fashion rather than the typical boots-shorts combo Ibiza girls are known for! Those who’d ignored the dress code however, were seriously struggling in the sand in sky-high heels! People watching just never gets old in Ibiza…
Back to the bar! Once again, our Ibiza connections came in handy as the bartenders recognised us and ensured we were swiftly served each time we arrived at the bar – and when the Moet Hennessy and Grey Goose are free flowing all night long, you can just imagine the chaos and queues that creates!
We schmoozed in the VIP, chatting with Boujis owner Paul Deeming, shimmying past royal ex-girlfriend Chelsy Davy and bumping into a few familiar Ibiza faces along the way. I’ll say this for the jetset, their manners are impeccable – I had more people initiate interesting small talk with me tonight than in years in Ibiza! Or perhaps it was just different… either way, a welcome change from talking about the latest club nights and DJs (eventually on this island, you need a break from all that jazz – that’s why we love the winter).
The beauty of S’Estanyol is that the party can well and truly continue until dawn, and Boujis started to wind down at around 5am… just enough time to get that last drink in the Pacha VIP, I suspect! My lasting image of the party was two people sitting on the famous plank stretching out to sea from the beach, being completely splashed with choppy waves (either oblivious or loving it, hard to tell by the light of the moon!) with no intention of coming to shore. You don’t get THAT in London now, do you?
THE LOWDOWN
THE GOOD: The ‘house specialty’ drink – Boujis Crackbabies, shots made with Chambord, passionfruit, Grey Goose and Washed down with Moet. Don’t mind if I do…
THE BAD: The seemingly professional queue jumpers, pushers and shovers, who don’t have the patience to wait their turn (I exclude the White-ettes from this category, given that we received preferential treatment rather than force our way to the front). From the car park to the entrance through to the bar, I was surprised at the lack of etiquette shown by many guests, particularly at an event where everyone is supposed to be a VIP.
THE GOSSIP: Boujis are renowned for their guest DJs in Ibiza, so I was excited to see who it would be. Would it be Groove Armada, given their close connections with the team behind the party’s production? Or was it going to be Erick Morillo, given that we’d spotted his PA Caroline Harrington on the way in… but alas, there were no surprises (well, I did say I didn’t like them so I can’t complain!). DJs included Andrew Dax, Zeb Wayne, Rob Marmot and Klaus de Macedo plus Ameet Jaugnauth on bongos, but I have to say, a very famous face would have been the icing on the cake for me. It is Ibiza after all…
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