Smoke on the Water (see previous post) wasn’t the first boat party Forest had organised.
In 2001 we co-hosted an event with The Chap, a satirical magazine founded in 1999 and described knowingly as ‘a journal for the modern gentleman’.
It took place aboard a huge hulk of a vessel moored close to Blackfriars Bridge in London on a Saturday night and attracted 200-300 people, many of them dressed in ‘Chap’ inspired attire.
The entertainment included live music and a ‘smoking competition’ in which five people each had to smoke a cigarette using a cigarette holder in the fastest time possible.
It was incredibly silly if hilarious to watch but I don't think we’d do it today. (What were we thinking?!) Anyway, a real ‘chap’ is more likely to smoke a pipe - leisurely, of course.
Remarkably The Chap is still with us. Like The Oldie – a more mainstream publication – it seems to have found a niche. And perhaps it's just what we need in these increasingly ludicrous times.
On a more serious note, Gustav Temple, co-founder of The Chap, yesterday posted a suitably florid appreciation of Sebastian Horsley, the 'decadent dandy' he befriended and who died ten years ago of a heroin overdose:
Sebastian would have been 57 this year. Unlike one of his heroes Quentin Crisp, he was too attached to youth to be able to contemplate old age ... Sebastian still looked like a rock star at 47; he was too brightly illuminated ever to allow himself ever to fade away. People are sometimes described as “lighting up the room”. When Sebastian sauntered along Old Compton Street, he lit up the whole of Soho. He commanded the street and sucked all the energy of the Queer Mile towards him, bathing in its sickly neon and being sustained by it.
As it happens I met Horsley when we were both invited to take part in a late night ‘speak easy’ on hedonism at the Institute of Contemporary Arts (ICA) in London in May 2007.
The full panel – with a photo of Horsley – is still listed on the ICA website:
Simon Munnery, comedian; Sebastian Horsley, writer, dandy and author of Dandy in the Underworld; John Noi, editor of Spektacle; Travis Elborough, freelance writer; Alexander Mayor of Alexander's Festival Hall; Sam Roddick, founder of Coco de Mer; Simon Clark, director, Freedom Organisation for the Right to Enjoy Smoking Tobacco (FOREST) and Tamara Tyler, co-founder of Whoopee Club.
If I remember the sold out event began at 10.30pm and was one of a series of late night discussions at the ICA which lifted its smoking ban (imposed in September 2006) for the duration of the event.
I was thrilled to be considered an authority on hedonism (even though I'm not) and the following day I described the experience:
I met some interesting people at last night's ICA event. Tamara Tyrer is co-founder of The Whoopee Club. She looks 18 but assured me that she celebrated her 30th birthday only last week. She brought with her four dancers who entertained us with their burlesque routines. There is a fine line between 'art' and, er, stripping but Tamara insisted that this was 'art'. Actually it was quite tame - these girls would have been equally at home at a vicar's tea party.
Another guest was musician Alexander M who also looked absurdly young. By coincidence, Alex is the brother of Will Mayor whose company Livewire Design is developing [our] new website. Alex's band is the grandly named Alexander's Festival Hall. As I was leaving he gave me a CD with some of their songs. I'm listening to it now. He's also part of Baxendale - spot the Pet Shop Boys' influence!
Less engaging was 'Soho artist' Sebastian Horsley. Wearing a shocking pink suit he certainly stood out from the crowd, but saying "FUCK" loudly, aggressively and often isn't hedonistic, it's just boring. This self-styled dandy claims to have slept with over 1,000 prostitutes at a cost of £100,000. I don't have a problem with that. I do have a problem with someone who, when he was no longer centre stage, declared, very loudly, that he was "bored" and wanted to go home. No-one was stopping him.
I’m pretty sure Horsley posted a comment in response but for some reason it's no longer there.
Given his bullish behaviour I remember thinking it odd that he would care what someone like me thought of him.
In hindsight, perhaps his bluster hid a more sensitive soul than I witnessed that night.