After what seems like an age covering other peoples’ events in London, we decided to throw a little party of our own, ‘I Heart Spoonfed’, in the glitzy, grimy Macbeth of Hoxton. The lack of productivity in the office the following day is testament to the fun that was had, with the last stragglers stumbling through the door at midday to pen the most poorly worded sentences of their lives.

The evening initially shaped up to be quite a civilised affair, with a barbeque on the decked terrace. There, under the fairy-light laden trellis, Spoonfed staff coiffed and networked themselves silly to the sounds of indie dance outfit This is Music. The first round of burgers looked like turds from Hades, but once the flames had waned, Editor in Chief Joe was flipping delicious patties befitting of the fabulous events website they represented.

Our founding fathers Henry and Alex arrived suited and booted, with the latter sporting a particularly fine silver paisley smoking jacket. We minions then passed the baton of representation to them, and let our hair down to punk demons Sexbeat and garage rock moguls Dirty Water. By now the venue was packed and the atmosphere was whimsical.

At eleven o’clock the Spoonfed team gathered downstairs on the dance floor for a group photograph, and the soaring levels of inebriation quickly became apparent when the simple task of ‘saying cheese’ in a coordinated fashion proved arduous. On the floor we stayed, dancing to the playlist of Wifey until 3am. I have it on good authority that he is an excellent DJ with an enviable record collection, but a quick survey in the office left me none the wiser as to what genre he pertains to; and not a soul could recall a single track he played.

Burnt into an intangible part of Spoonfed’s collective consciousness are the images of a marvellous party. We’ll have to throw another one to jog our memories.

RC

To check out more photos from the night have a look at our Flickr