One magical December night the world stopped for a moment in time, suspended like a dancer in flight. The air was laced with chill, but despite the frost, we were warmed by the prospect of our first hotel stay at Moxy London in Stratford. The neon lights beckoned us ever closer, as they twinkled merrily in the distance, like an intoxicating drug that had been injected into our system. For tonight was the night where all inhibitions would go out the window and delicious and decadent debauchery would run wild. The office suits would leave behind their desks and step into the night, watching us sparkle under the mischievous glint of the nearby Christmas tree. The drinks would be served with a poised flourish, as the bartenders would chatter to us excitedly, warmed further by the prospect of the Christmas holidays. The cherry lolled seductively in the small glass tumbler and the red liquid posed the question ‘were we naughty or nice’?
We shimmied upstairs in a languorous fashion, taking delight in the festive treats that awaited us. There were the elevators emblazoned in snow and the ‘Secret Santa’s’ that chronicled our every move, but it was the surprise that awaited in our Queen hotel room that made us gasp with ecstasy. The soft croons of the television was deceptively soothing, while the lights glimmered gently, but it was all a facade for the sumptuous decadence that lay beneath the surface. The walls were plastered with an urban print that was reminiscent of the street art I knew I loved but it was the personalized details that astounded us both. Lipstick smears on the mirror was a throwback to a party that once was and the promise of what could be to come. Would we, the ‘sequin singletons’ finally find our prince and make it a night to remember? Only time could tell, but we marveled at the neon letters that were spread out across the bed, A-N-A , it rolled off the tip of our tongue, in beautiful harmony. Moxy London had treated us like Queens and for one night only we felt like royalty. Like children we jumped on the bed, our eyes clouded with euphoric excitement, as we moved our bodies to the music one beat at a time.
Sequins and ladylike skirts entered the bar vicinity, one heel at a time. Famished, we stocked up on food and drinks and headed to the back, where the neon was a magnet that drew us in. We sipped thirstily on our passionfruit cocktails and glasses of wine, awaiting the triumphant arrival of our chosen food. It was time; the baked macaroni cheese was coated in creamy bechemal sauce with a crusted cheddar topping, while Lucy’s pizza calzone dripped cheese creating a sumptuous snail trail across her plate. Plates of salad laced in vingerette and lemon were fresh to the taste and the tomatoes popped cheekily in our mouths. With one large mouthful we had conquered our plates and turned our attention to recent events. Tales of betrayal and long lost loves floated across our tables as we recapped the events of weeks past. That night we came ever closer, like sisters united by Moxy London’s ‘Midas Touch’. The night was young and our fun wasn’t over yet , what would happen next?
Suitors courted our attention with cursory glances,glazed with lustful desire but we paid them no mind, too caught up in our ‘catch up bubble’ to even notice. The first sat directly opposite us, nudging his friend and conversing in their native tongues. The youngest one came up to us and made pretense at ‘conversation’ regaling a story of needing a ‘Tutor to teach him better English’ could it be us? We laughed, a tinkling sound and bid the pair goodbye but it would not be the last we would hear of them, not just yet. We ordered more drinks, fueled by the magical energy of the night, another cocktail for me it would seem. The man was back, ruffling his hair nonchalantly like the birds that preen their feathers in the hope of attracting a ‘mate’. He cut straight to the point, reciting his hotel room number like a chant, inviting us up for a ‘night of fun’, sweat dripping of his skin as he blustered through his clearly rehearsed conversation. We politely declined and watched them walk away, denying them the sweet victory of our affections.
We licked the juices of our plates and slurped the remainder of our drinks, as we propped vibrant velvet cushions behind us to retain comfort. But the table to next to us, who had been watching our conversations with the ill fated pair, thought it would be time to make a move. Disguised in the pretense of poking fun at the ‘youth’ who had invited us up for an all night long romp, we smiled and once more turned away. But they were everywhere we went, it was 3 AM and still they lurched, watching us take photos, while they slurped their overflowing pints of beers. Eventually they were gone and we breathed a sigh of relief. They weren’t making us uncomfortable per say, but tonight we had decided to put our quest for our ‘forever prince’ to one side and focus on strengthening our friendship, while we poured out our hearts to each other.
Upstairs we climbed, as the clock struck 3.30 and we clambered into our rooms, kicking off our heels and sighing contently. Like cats we purred, as slipped into our ‘comfies’ and laughed merrily at the Tinder horror stories that we had, little did we know that the upcoming weeks would have more surprises in store for us… We danced around in our pajamas and jumped on the beds, entertaining Instagram with our childish but enduring exploits. Videos were made, boomerangs were created and our night of hedonistic pleasure was drawing to a close. It was 5.30 AM and groans of having to get up in the morning were made but still we smiled.
Our adult sleepover was sugar, spice and all things nice and as we settled into brief slumber, we dreamed that we would never have to leave. In dreamworld anything was possible and as reality had fled the building we danced through the clouds, taking a step into the wondrous unknown. Morning had broken and L had to leave, forced to enter work once more. Squinting blearily at the bright sunshine that peered into our room, I locked the door behind and slid down the stairs , where fresh soft croissants, slabs of bread and butter and fresh orange juice were awaiting my arrival. As I closed my eyes once more, I remembered the events of the night before and sighed. Today reality had its hand outstretched but last night decadence and sisterhood danced in merriment, as it twirled sensually through the night.
I will be back.
What Has Been The Most Exciting Hotel Stay You Have Had & Why?
Please note I was given a complimentary hotel stay for two with food and drinks at Moxy London in Stratford but all thoughts are my own and are not affected by complimentary services. A massive thank you to the kindness and generosity of Moxy London, who not only offered us complimentary services but also personalized our stay with my name on the bed, mirror and TV. Thank you Moxy London for a truly magical night that we will never forget.