Old Money Has Texture

When invited to cover someone's 50^th birthday party, it is like watching your mother peel off all the layers that have defined her life so far. You carry your camera and your manners. So, a few weeks ago when a friend called and asked me “Wahinya, my cousin has a 50^th birthday party this coming Saturday and she is looking for a photographer. Are you available to cover it?” I said, “yes.”  You do not let such opportunities pass. It is a way to see the past through the eyes and words of those who were there. I was there on time.  Rule number one as an entrepreneur, always show up. And rule number two, show up on time. People will respect you for that. People respect you more when you respect their time.

It was in private members’ club in Karen. They had reserved the whole place. A beautiful place with an old house with a touch of modernity converted into a diner and a bar. There are tall trees maybe older than the house, and condos tucked between the trees. The paths are paved and the lawns are well kept. They even have an artificial waterfall. If you spend the night there, you will wake up to birds chirping and the melody of a water wall. It is a small heaven.

The invited guests had something in common. They were older, accomplished, and polished. They smelled like old money because old money has unique smell and texture. Unlike new money, which is loud, and attention seeking. Old money is unpretentious. A guy with old money is that guy who sits at the corner wearing a baseball cap. Or the guy who shows up with an old fedora that he has used forever. He is more attached to his hat than his money, because his money does not define him, but his hat does. It tells a story of consistency.

If it is a lady, she will be wearing high heels for the days she wants to feel 25 all over again, but mostly, she will be wearing some expensive wedges, with a wooden block and burgundy leather straps.  She will wear a pair of wear nice fitting white demin trousers, and a nice fitting satin top and a lovely baby pink sweater. And because she knows that other things make her to stand out, instead of gold, she will wear a pearl necklace. Pearls demonstrate maturity, class, calmness and authenticity; everything she represents.

Both wear colognes that are tried and tested. Colognes that have become their shadows. Colognes that have a personality-bold but not aggressive- louder than their voices. Colognes which are inviting, and like the money and the power they wield, they demand their place in the room, on the table even. It can be sent to represent them in a meeting and no one will doubt their presence.

The party was an all-white party. White is the colour of confidence. Wearing white is like wearing your heart on your sleeve. You know it takes only one stain to mess the outfit, but you wear it anyway because you have learnt to watch your every move. All the ladies showed up in white, white trousers, only the birthday girl had a white dress. And on this night, because it was a was a night to celebrate life and re-living the old days, the ladies wore high heels.  Young or old, there’s something about a lady wearing a 6-inch heel.

This day, they had a resident DJ, a mature guy who knows his music and his place in the society that he seamlessly fit in. He iss probably in his late forties. He doesn’t DJ, he plays music; never in clubs, only in private events. He understands older folk. Because of his experience, he knows how to pace himself. He is not too excited; he knows what his crowd simply wants by watching their moves. On this day, he started with the Motown classics. He played songs like the 1970 hit, ‘I’ll be there’ by the Jackson Five. When he played Diana Ross’ “I am coming out,” like a cue, the ladies hit the dance floor. Everyone acknowledged the DJ’s effort. They gave him thumbs up. He knew how to get them on their feet, light up their eyes, warm up their hearts and carry them back to the 70s by playing them songs they listened to growing up.  

When guys where having dinner, he was playing some appetizing music. I walked up to him to pay him some homage for the beautiful music he was playing. It gave me an opportunity to engage him. I asked him how long he had played for them. He said since forever. I do not even remember how I started with them, he said. Then I asked him why he loves it- both DJing and playing for them.  Because music is life, and they are respectful, they pay, and they do not negotiate. I have earned their trust and they respect my craft. They now that it is a job like any other.

Then there was also a mixologist, a millennial. A Diageo trained and winner of some award. I am told he is among the best in his trade.  There was a reason why he was there. When you have made it in life, you know about the fine things. If you drink, you drink aged whiskey, probably one that is the same age as your lastborn, 24 years. This guy was the star of the show. In fact, he did a ka mini show just to display his skills and biceps. Such vanity. 

It was an invite only event. If you were there, you were needed there. Again, this is what maturity does, you go where you are needed, and only invite people who you need. I was honored to be there, really. Probably the youngest guy in the room. Well, the mixologist was. But his skills made him older. Anyone who came for the event had been vetted, not by the host, but by the passage of time. When you attend a 50^th birthday, it means you have stood the test of time. You passed the loyalty test. You can be counted on. Everyone who was there had known the lady for over 10 years. They were either, family, school mates, collage mates, business associates or friends of friends who became friends. Everyone had a connection with the other.

See, by the time you get to 50 years, you have possibly seen it all, you have buried you parents, lost lots of money, and even fallen out with your best friend. Nothing surprises you. When you are 50, you can light a candle from both ends and not burn your fingers. You know the world owes you nothing. You are pleasant to people because you know that it costs nothing. You're less afraid of death, you worry more about not living because death is certain. When people fail you, you shrug it off because you have learnt to lower your expectations. In fact, you have none.

Throughout the night, their conversations were in hushed tones. You could barely hear what they were saying. No one, even when the cocktails started kicking in and they were on their way to drunk, raised their voices. They spoke in weighted words. Words laced with civility and confidence. It was a joy to cover the event and watch them.

When it hit midnight, two hours after my official time, the DJ raised the tempo. He played diamond’s kwangaru. Everyone got on their feet, civility was thrown out, because no one judges you for what you do after midnight.