Roaring Twenties - our tenth party for the Design Centre, Chelsea Harbour

So a flash mob of dancers storms the party and we hold onto our martinis. Then the swing band starts up and the guests forget where they are in all the glamour and glitz. They’ve never seen so many feathers on a lady’s head or felt such heat in their hearts  when the jazz singer starts up. She’s a mobster’s bad dream. She melts a man.

The dancing is swell. The Charleston. The jitterbug. A little Lindyhop. It’s been a while.

A little party never killed nobody.