DIY Page 3

Since its inception a few years ago,Page 3 has become the benchmark of bashes. If you haven’t partied at aPage 3 party, you haven’t partied at all. But what if you’re not acard-carrying Page 3 apparatchic? How then do you inveigle yourself into a Page3 do without getting done by the resident bouncer? Simple. You fake it. All youhave to do is learn the right moves.First, perfect the StormtrooperStrut. Imagine you are one of those televised Marines in Iraq, symbolicallykicking aside such inferior species like non-combatants, waiters,autograph-seekers and other untermensch. Stick your right arm out,fingers rigidly extended in anticipatory handshake. Fix your lips in a rigormortis grin of greeting. Glaze your eyes with a glassy stare like a Great WhiteShark homing in for the kill. Intently gazing straight ahead as thoughyou’ve spotted someone who is only a little less of a VVIP than youyourself and whom protocol demands you greet without further ado, effect yourgrand entrance, unchallenged by the suitably intimidated security guards manningthe gate and your flummoxed host and hostess who’re wondering who the hellyou are but haven’t the nerve to ask.Once in, mingle with thethrong. Avoid being asked aw-kward questions as to who you are and whatyou’re doing there by playing that popular Page 3 party game known asPeriscope Peek-a-boo. This consists of engaging someone in animated conversationall the while craning your neck, periscope-like, over the person’sshoulder to see if you can glimpse someone with more social cachet thatyou’d rather talk to in preference to your currentinterlocutor.Periscope Peek-a-boo is sometimes confused bynovitiates with that other ubiquitous Page 3 pastime Air Kissing. Air Kissing isnot a full contact body sport. You must never ever actually touch the cheek, orany other part of the anatomy, of the person you exchange Air Kisses with.Practise Air Kissing by standing in front of a mirror, and implanting a smoochon the glass a good six inches wide of your reflected ear. Check the glass fortelltale traces of sputum. Remember: Saying ‘Mud in your eye’ whileraising a toast is one thing; inadvertently spitting in the eye of a bystanderwhile exchanging Air Kisses with someone else is quite another, and is adistinct Page 3 no-no. Novices at the game are advised to equip themselves witha Band-Aid or length of cellotape to affix over the lips at the crucial momentand thus avoid the embarrassment of unpremeditatedexpectoration.Page 3 parties can broadly be divided into twocategories of people: the Prowlers and the Pillars. The Prowlers prowl aroundseeing how many of their co-guests they can engage in Air Kissing andPeek-a-booing. Pillars, remain fixed, and allow the Prowlers to orbit aroundthem, like planets drawn into the gravitational field of a greater heavenlybody. As a tyro you’d be advised to Prowl before you Pillar. However, ifyou feel that all that Prowling round and round might make your head spin, andif you’re prepared to risk varicose veins by standing stockstill forhours, by all means have a go at Pillaring. But a word of warning. Nothingsticks out like a sore thumb than a Pillar whom no one deigns to Prowl to. Takeprecautionary measures. Conceal on your person a serving tray and a few glasses.Everyone will assume you’re the waiter with the drinks and stampede inyour direction, conferring instant Pillardom on you. So now you knowwhat it takes to be a DIY Page 3-er. But so do all the others who’ve readthis piece. Worse still, so does the writer of the piece. And you wouldn’tbe seen dead at any party, Page 3 or otherwise, which just might include thatguy, would you?