Dubai's Desperate Housewife

Trials and traumas of a full-time mum in Dubai

The Party

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The party was exquisite. Like a mini version of the Oscars. Excitement had buzzed through town for weeks in advance and, on the day, the preparation paid off.

Travelling in style: I guess you pay extra for the tree on the roof

The shoes, the dresses, the guest list, the entertainment – all were stellar. The air reverberated with the gentle ‘mwah’ of air kisses as BMWs, Mercedes, Maseratis and Bentleys disgorged the eager attendees. Security was called to manage the traffic. An entire room of the house was set aside for gifts for the hostess.

There was African drumming, face-painting, an entertainment programme hosted by a TV personality. At the bottom of the garden, a Bedouin with almond-shaped eyes and skin craggy from the desert sun led a sulky camel up and down, offering rides to those who dared. The more adventurous ones stripped off and jumped into the swimming pool under the watchful eye of hired lifeguards.

No-one went hungry: homemade mini cheeseburgers in tiny wholegrain buns, mini fish ‘n’ chips in cones of printed paper and goujons of succulent chicken breast dipped in fresh tomato coulis were handed round by penguin-suited waiters. Mini trifles, tiny chocolate tarts and traffic lights of melon on wooden cocktail sticks satisfied any sweet cravings.

As the sun sank and the festivities drew to a close, the guests, clutching loaded goodie bags to their chests, were chauffeured home in a stretch Hummer.

No, it wasn’t the Oscars – just another five-year-old’s birthday party in Dubai.


Written by mrsdubai

January 23, 2010 at 5:35 pm

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