Review: Secret Garden Party
Lumsden’s great idea is a little too chilly for Tyler. (Top marks otherwise!)
The Lumsden Club’s best asset with their Secret Garden Party was its (open) secret location. Snaking through long, lithe and silent country roads in an oversized double-decker bus whilst the sun glowed was surreal, to say the least. Craigsanquhar was drop-dead beautiful. The committee knew perfectly well how to utilise the great estate, dividing the available space into well-thought-out hangouts. The cider reception was quaint, the haystacks packed with cartons of juice and packets of crisps were quainter, and the well-priced array of glitter masks, bracelets and hair accessories added to the generally jovial atmosphere. The badminton court was a popular feature, even if the popularity of the £20 jugs of Pimms hindered the skills of the players, who moved to make their own fun with rounds of beer-pong. Fourth year Rose Pallone praised the “so good” crisps, flashing the souvenir packet she had elegantly tucked into her handbag, and described the event as a good transition through the poetically-lit dusk hours.
As the day darkened, guests moved through the much-needed warmth of the music tent. Earlier, London-based band The Carnabys played an electric set, witnessed by no more than than half of the attendees – about a quarter of the tent’s capacity. Amber James commented that the event would have been amazing if there were about 500 more people, an unfortunately common complaint with these afternoon, outside events.
Shivering in my jumper and jacket, I wondered why the cold was colder than the entertainment was entertaining. The overflow of unfilled space and the clearly visible goosebumps on guests, who, by five o’clock, probably regretted their scantily-clad festival attire, would not have overshadowed a theoretically entertaining event had the presence of Jannettas Gelateria not been the iceberg tip of a few uninspired, unsuitable choices. The lack of heaters and hot apple cider was just upsetting.
It was nice to escape the bubble, even if just by entering a more exaggerated version of it in a fresh location. Lumsden pitched their Secret Garden Party as “the ultimate goodbye to summer”. Whilst my newly running nose would argue that summer’s ship had sailed by Starfields, and the rush for the first bus back to St. Andrews at eight o’clock revealed overt keenness to say goodbye instead to lovely Craigsanquhar, the Secret Garden Party was ultimately a success. Next time, I hope it’s in May.
Photos Courtesy of Katherine Diment