We gathered at the Spectator’s offices in St James’ Park to find out. The gates didn’t open until 6.30pm. At 6.25 p.m. there was already a crowd clamoring to enter. Partly to get to Pol Roger, but mostly to get in. Instead of the usual photographs of Graham Greene and Joseph Addison, the walls were adorned with portraits of Ralph Fiennes and Regé-Jean Page, the handsome man from Bridgerton. House of Cards seemed more appropriate, but for some reason there were no pictures of Kevin Spacey. Not everyone was invited there. “I pretended to be someone called Antonio,” said one woman, who was not named Antonio. “I told the people at the door that I had won an Oscar. Would someone who had won an Oscar come without an invitation?’ It’s the kind of chutzpah and ingenuity we’ve been looking for in our leaders. Prankster journalist Nimrod Kamer broke in impersonating Toby Young. He assumed, correctly, that no one would think anyone would want to impersonate Tobey Young.
