When I was a solicitor, our firm had a yearly summer party, which I used to dread

Let’s face it, lawyers are not known for their banging raves, and the year I heard it was to be held in the Natural History Museum, my first thought was how I would distinguish the guests from the exhibits.

But as they say, there’s always someone worse off than you.

Last week one of my colleagues announced that she was invited to her boyfriend’s summer party.  She is one of those people blessed with a happy, open face whose natural resting place is in a smile.  Yet as she read through the invitation, I noticed she was not smiling.  Her face went through confused to mild concern to big-eyed horror before concluding with blind panic.

The party is a day-long event by a lake.  It is the Swiss equivalent of an out-door pool party.  Colleague will be in swimwear when she meets her boyfriend’s boss for the first time; as will he.

After I’ve stopped laughing I point out that since the majority of attendees will be European, the men will wearing tiny speedos (known in my house as “budgie smugglers”); and if there’s one part of your boyfriend’s boss you really don’t need to see, it’s his budgie.

I helpfully point out that the other thing I always notice is the extent (or not) of the manscaping that has occurred.  Have they broken out the strimmer? Shaved their chest? Gone for the full back sack and crack wax? (not something that’s easy to verify, I grant you).  Or have they embraced the James Bond truism: Bird Don’t Make Nest In Bare Tree and accessorised the chest wig with a medallion?

Colleague is now so appalled that her eyes are popping out of her head until she resembles a bush baby on speed.

We think through her options.  Jackie O sunnies are a given, so that she can deal with the compulsion to stare, horrified, at the budgies without being put on the Swiss sex offenders register.  But what image should she be going for as she attempts polite chit chat with the semi-nude?  The itsy bitsy bikini is a definite no.  We are unanimous in the view that this is not a sexy beach babe moment. Equally a chunky one piece that says “terrified frump” is not going to help. Colleague considers a retro 1920’s number on the basis that it’s more of a mini dress, but I say if you’re going to do this, do it with style.

I am now sourcing a bathing machine, which will be wheeled into the lake by footmen in full garb, and from which she will emerge, resplendent in her Queen Victoria bathing dress and white lace cap……..