sketchy characters

Even more wining and dining - I am feeling rather bloated, even a trifle gouty, after three slap up meals this week. Last night it was to Sketch, the uber-trendy Conduit Street eatery and club, with the fine folks from Mills & Boon.

The building used to be Christian Dior's house and it is a hodge-podge of wildly, screamingly camp and kitschy touches. Leather walls, mismatched lamps, random sculptures, one of a diamond zircon woman squatting on a ball, another of a dog eating through an overflowing rubbish bin - complete with chomping noises. The loos are space age pod type stuctures and the gent's urinal is this rather off-putting waterfall feature.

And, oh yeah, they serve food there. And it's pretty decent, a nice crab stuffed ravioli to start and tender beef with satay sauce. We were there to celebrate M&B's 100th anniversary, the Organ's 150th, though we were forbidden to clap by Sketch's rather authoritarian wait staff.

Fun night, though, not even ruined by the cocktail waitress at the end of the evening dumping a tray full of mojitos on me. Incidentally, isn't it interesting that the overiding smell of a lot of London clubs early on (before the sweat and cheap cologne kicks in later) is mint.