It’s the launch of the FT’s slick new Saturday supplement, The
A suitably glamorous crowd packs the very Moorish Momo, a ’TGI Friday
’Who booked the ad for the dog psychologist?’ queries editor Julia
Somebody called Emanuel Hill, apparently.
FT people aren’t as stuffy as expected. Client sales manager Andrew
Skarzynski reveals his hobby is producing electronic dance music. Even
his pinstriped suit is more Milan than Jermyn Street.
Attractive waitresses force exotic foodstuffs on us. One, a statuesque
Germanic blonde, refuses to move on until we eat some mysterious pastry
parcels . ’Didn’t want to tell you before - but that’s pigeon,’ Andy
Even later, Momo
By now we’re on the house speciality - vodka and lime with mint. Guests
are dancing with waitresses. One of the FT boys gets a date.
Young guns Vivienne Eka and Gary Kakoulli laugh about the fact that in
the distant past, the FT only employed people with posh accents. Now its
sales staff look more like pop stars than stockbrokers; the evening’s
been an eye-opener.