I went to a cocktail party tonight at Adelaide's Carrick Hill, to celebrate the 60th birthday of the colourful character who owns the bookshop that I mind for her on Saturdays. Went straight from the bookshop, in fact, pausing only to dust myself down and swap the trainers for suede boots with heels and the cardy for a figured velvet coat.
The Downers were among the guests, if that gives you any idea of what sort of Adelaide do this was. Whenever I think I'm going to feel intimidated by what other people are wearing, I bring out the filigree-fine necklace of silver teardrops from Tiffany's that my best mate gave me for one of my own major birthdays, so I had that on as well.
Great party, good speeches, fab food, saw a couple of people I adore, and heard a really, really happy-making piece of gossip. But the highlight of the evening was the view back across the Adelaide plain as I walked down the path towards the party. This is actually the view from a different angle and rather higher up and further away than Carrick Hill, but you get the gist: