Last week, we do believe we went to a good, old-fashioned debauched 80s-
style agency party: the Rainey Kelly Campbell Roalfe house-warming bash.
It’s just that, well, we’re not sure.
There were some clues: a few minor celebrities (Simon Callow, Mariella
Frostrup, Peter York) and even Robin Wight put in an appearance.
Reassuringly, too, Kevin Gavaghan, the former Midland Bank marketing
director, was partying again.
There was a bevy of models - even better, they informed the Diary they
were on a mission to flirt with drooling admen and then do a runner.
There were even rumours of tequila - although we, of course, stay clear
of any substance that needs slamming or snorting. It seems, too, that
current Barbie doll partywear pays homage to the 80s ‘pussy-pelmet’ -
shame all the men always looks so drab.
However, the role of the advertising journalist at such affairs is to
stand back and think what a wild/sordid/shallow/gissa job world
advertising is. It is not, oh no, gentle reader, to cop off with another
advertising journalist in full view of the throng, complete with hip-
grinding and slobbering of tongue.
We have been forced to mention this poor (floor)show by shocked
advertising friends, calling to complain of such a breach of the code of
conduct. Rest assured, no member of Campaign (past or present) was
caught inflagrante licking. So, no head will roll here. Elsewhere, it
may be too late.