Susan Morrison: The place where hen nights are for everyone

Some hen nights are only for young people, but not in Glasgow
Some hen nights are only for young people, but not in Glasgow
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After singing songs in Govan, it was off to the glamour of the Wild Cabaret, a fabulous variety show with magicians, acrobats and dancing girls. Oh, and me. It’s catnip to the hen nights of Glasgow.

A Glaswegian hen do is highly inclusive. It’s generally not the done thing to have only the youngsters trip the light fantastic. Everyone’s there, from the 19-year-old in a micro-mini sporting her own bodyweight in lipstick to Great Auntie Jeannie in a sequined cardy and tights thicker than a BBC war correspondent’s kevlar jacket.

One neon cocktail too many, and the conversation flood gates are opened, particularly in the loos.

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A woman my age, swaying slightly in the breeze from the hot air hand drier, explained that it was a shame her maw couldn’t join them, but she was moving into a new care home “oot by Coatbridge … naw … Hamilton, naw … Airdrie?” I jumped the gun slightly and said “Motherwell?”

She stopped swaying slightly, took a deep breath, looked me in the eye, and said, “She’s no that great, to be fair.” A slight hiccup and off she went.

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