"I have had my fair share of random snogs at Brinkleys. Way back in the day, of course, when I was very young, footloose and fancy free, and many moons before I even considered hitching up and getting married. Always thronging with people, all of whom either seemed to know each other or knew someone who knew at least five other people there, it was the go to place for young party happy Sloane Rangers, all of whom lived in frightfully jolly flat shares in Chelsea or Fulham, the braying boys with tasseled loafers and signet rings, and the pretty girls with their fragrant freshly washed tresses and their school prefect cut glass accents. This is where we all hung out and got thoroughly blotto, but still managed to look fresh faced and bushy tailed at our art gallery, ad agency or bank jobs the next morning. Oh, for our golden youth when butter wouldn’t melt in our mouths and life ahead seemed like nothing more than one big fun merry go round!"
