The 2019 Pink Week Ball promised a night of merriment and a gorgeous pink aesthetic, as well as illuminating discussions on breast cancer. Intrigued (and pressured by all my mates), I bought myself a ticket for £75, got a random (not pink!) dress from ASOS, and bundled myself onto one of the many coaches heading to the fabled Swynford Manor

"We wandered through the venue entranced"

As we rolled up to the ball, the road was lit up by a huge pink breast cancer ribbon that was projected on to the front of the manor. There was an immediate mad dash for the outdoor food stalls, with all the dolled-up guests braving the Arctic temperatures in hopes of snagging some munch. There wasn’t extensive food choice, with the savoury choices mainly ranging between fajitas or barbecued meat. Luckily for me there were kosher burgers available, (which I have to say was one of the highlights of the evening - kosher food at balls is an extreme rarity), but for those true vegetarians out there it might have been nice to offer more than just meat-less meat-based options.

Entering the manor hallway, serenaded by the lovely Fitz Sirens, we began to explore the many rooms within. Every room had several buckets of both soft and alcoholic drinks (shout-out to Jake Gilbey for the effort with the soft drinks – as a teetotaller, I thought the selection was particularly good), and ubiquitous piles of artisan brand crisp packets filled the corners of the room. There were several bars dotted around the manor with funky combinations of drinks, and each bar was in abundant supply the whole night through.

Attention to detail was impressive: from the twinkling jars of candles to the huge cherry blossom tree in the main hall, we wandered through the venue entranced. The seasonal concept promised by the site map may have been a bit too subtle, but the secret garden theme overall shone through and the manor looked magical.

Entertainment was varied, with a good range of both musical and non-musical ents to please all tastes. Good old-fashioned boogies were supplied in abundance by Soft Crunchy Landing, and the silent disco was an easy crowd-pleaser. Ceilidh dancing was pleasantly surprising. I (along with most others) was unsure at first - but after a couple of dances all the stilettoed shoes came off, legs were swung and arms looped with great gusto by all.

Life drawing was slickly organised, the Impronauts gave everyone a good chuckle, and Churchill Casino gave me the chance to feel like a Gatsby character. There wasn’t a moment when I didn’t have anything to do, and for a six-hour ball where 50% of each ticket went to charity, this is an impressive feat. Ticket pricing was in general fairly accessible: although original prices reached £95, there were many discounts available helping with budgeting.

I thought the breast cancer message, notwithstanding the scattered leaflets and ‘check yourself’ staff t-shirts, was a little too submerged - it was easy to forget that the ball was in aid of breast cancer. A few more posters or interactive areas (prosthetic breast display anyone?) may have been appropriate. 

Overall, it was as promised: a night of pink revelry that I, and all who were there, will definitely remember. Really well done to the Presidents and their committee for pulling it off.