I went to the EE BAFTAs for the first time - here’s what it’s like when you’re not a celebrity

There was gossip, there were winners, there were looks — oh, how there were looks! — and there was a royal appearance (and a royal absence). Here’s what happened when I went to the 2024 EE BAFTA Film Awards for the first time.

I had a glimmer of the breakneck pace and unabashed glamour at the Vanity Fair EE Rising Star Party, but nothing could prepare me for this. 

THE PREP

I’ve been wracking my brain trying to figure out how to write this without sounding like Ross Geller bemoaning being fancied, which would absolutely warrant a Chandler slapback. “Oh no, two women love me. They’re both gorgeous and sexy. My wallet’s too small for my fifties, AND MY DIAMOND SHOES ARE TOO TIGHT.”

However, this would not be a true and accurate account of my experience if I didn’t say that the admin that goes into attending an Awards ceremony is a lot, and if you’re not a celebrity, you will be navigating this alone. I got my invite on Wednesday 14th and the event was Sunday 19th - did someone drop out at the last minute? I like to think not. Fun fact: four days’ notice is the sweet spot where you’ll be frantically trying to scrabble an outfit, but you’ll have plenty of time for the pre-party jitters to really kick in. 

FIRST THINGS FIRST 

The invite specified ‘black tie’, which I interpreted as Full. On. Glam. Of course, this didn’t stop me from having anxiety dreams about turning up in Hollywood regalia to be met with a sea of subdued black dresses and practical court shoes — why is this my vision of the press? — thankfully, this was not the case. 

I borrowed a dress from By Rotation and made the fatal mistake of not immediately trying it on when I got home. This meant I spent Sunday morning trying to corral friends into lending me eveningwear accessories after realising that the silver shoes I’d borrowed from Rites clashed with the only (gold) jewellery I own. This wasn’t a stressful way to start the day at all. 

Shoes and bags secured thanks to a boyfriend, a bike, and some begging, and I was on my way! Sophie from beauty concierge service Ruuby saved me the misfortune of painting my face with little more than a dried-up concealer. I said this was a review of attending when you’re not a celebrity, but that doesn’t mean I couldn’t act like one. I went for Veronica Lake waves and a scarlet lip because I’ve secretly always wanted to play Miss Scarlett from Cluedo. 

PRE-PARTY

As a guest of EE, I was invited to the drinks reception in the Court Room at the Corinthia Hotel. Naturally, I took the wrong entrance and joined another entirely unrelated event. When you’re flying solo, you can save yourself the embarrassment of making this too obvious by turning up a little later when the party is in swing, but this was not my approach. 

As anyone who’s ever made a friend on a night out can attest, the best place to do this is the women’s toilet, so that’s where I headed, and readers, I made a friend! We even had our photo taken together holding an actual BAFTA (it weighed a tonne and really ought to come with a disclaimer).

EE Bafta Rising Star Award winner Mia McKenna-Bruce — from the acclaimed How To Have Sex — was in attendance with fellow nominees Sophie Wilde and Phoebe Dynevor. English singer Rag’n’Bone Man performed his first hit single, “Human” to guests including Layton Williams and Taylor Russell. We sipped Taittinger champagne, negronis, and a dangerous-looking strawberry vodka concoction I stayed well away from, and attempted — in vain — to soak it up with fried buttermilk chicken, tuna tartare, and what was essentially a samosa but had a fancier name. 

THE RED CARPET

We walked, yes, walked, from the Corinthia Hotel to the Royal Festival Hall on London’s Southbank, where the ceremony was. My newfound friend had the foresight to bring flats, but given that I’d just about managed to secure one pair of shoes, I certainly didn’t have a backup. A rookie move. 

The red carpet opened at 3.30, and by 3.32 pm, there was a gaggle of accredited press and paparazzi; ironically, given Hugh Grant’s noted disdain for both, many were waving ‘Notting Hill’ street signs and laminated photos of Grant circa Bridget Jones. The first celebrity I spotted was Adjoa Andoh, looking resplendent in red, which turned out to be the colour of choice, leaving me feeling equal parts smug and outshined - never was this more apparent than when I ended up next to Dua Lipa, also in a crimson gown and curls.

Dua dutifully snapped selfies with fans, Ryan Gosling caught up with Andy Serkis, David Beckham signed a seemingly never-ending line-up of autograph books (including a photograph of that semi-naked H&M advert), Cate Blanchett wore custom Louis Vuitton, Barry Keoghan got rushed along swiftly, Ed Westwick reminded everyone his cheekbones could cut glass, Hugh Grant posed with the aforementioned signs, Taylor Russell, Emma Corrin, and Rosamund Pike competed for the perfect head turn, and yours truly was politely asked to step inside and stop clogging up the red carpet. So, onwards we went.

INSIDE THE TENT

A true sensation and sensation overload; no wonder Rami Malek kept his sunglasses on. This was an absolute production, giving me a chance to see the pros at work. Press handlers ushered stars to the left for a step and repeat, while the rest of us mere mortals could have our photos taken off to the side. 

Interview and photo booths churned out a steady conveyor of dutiful celebrities facing down a four-row-deep press pit that would have rendered me immobile, but as I said, we are dealing with stars here, and it’s all in a day’s work. 

In a visual representation of the sun shining on the righteous, or at least the rightfully famous, the heavens opened, revealing a burst of the brilliant blue sky while the stereo pumped Macchiato's Disintegration Radio 025. Unfortunately, for me, the bright light and piercing flashbulb proved to be an unforgiving duo. 

THE ROYAL FESTIVAL HALL

Once inside, we were pointed in the direction of where we’d be seated. Naturally, the A-listers were closest to the stage, so I lingered around the lower-floor bars before admitting defeat and heading to floor six, which is where I sat. 

To my horror, all the bars closed at 4pm, a full 45-minutes before the ceremony was due to start. Later at dinner, I discovered that this disappointment was shared with my fellow journalists, who regaled me with stories of when the BAFTAs were held at the Royal Albert Hall and you were allowed glasses inside. Ahh, the good old days (2022). 

THE DINNER

We made it. Five hours after my single tuna tartare (I have no one to blame but myself and will learn from my seatmates who brought protein bars with them), we sat down to dinner. 

Now, just because you were invited to the ceremony, don't think that guarantees you supper. There's a sliding scale of access with pre-parties, the red-carpet, ceremony, dinner, and, as I'd later learn, competing after-parties. If you're invited to the ceremony and the after-party but not the dinner, you might have to shack up in one of the nearby eateries before you can go back in. 

Fortunately, that wasn't me, so here's what we had!

STARTER

Six root bhaji and coronation roasted carrot served with sweet potato puree

CHOICE OF MAIN

Chicken Caesar salad topped with aged parmesan and a triple cooked Maris Piper chip

or

Salt baked celeriac, rosemary confit potato and black cabbage

DESSERT

The BAFTA Toffee Chocolate Dessert served with vanilla mascarpone

or

The BAFTA Coconut Dark Chocolate Dessert

Hugh Grant held court at the centre of the ballroom — most of the celebrities were seated in the lower section of the dining area — that said, Kingsley Ben-Adir, who stars in the Bob Marley biopic One Love, sat directly behind me, so there was a bit of mingling. 

Ryan Gosling ducked out after starters, and Idris and Sabrina Elba, and Margot Robbie — who was staying at the nearby Corinthia Hotel — skipped the meal altogether to go to the British Vogue And Tiffany & Co. after-party at Annabel's, as did many guests. One journalist described it to me as "Fort Knox" when it comes to the afters, which brings me on nicely to...

THE AFTER-PARTY

Now, according to my new tabloid dinner pals, in the time before streaming services, there was just one main after-party that pulled all the heavy hitters. Today, there’s a whole host of competing parties. It's a bit like the streaming wars but with well-stocked free bars and Harry Winston jewellery.

Most want to go to Vogue's 2024 Fashion & Film Party In Partnership With Tiffany & Co., but there's also Netflix’s starry bash at Chiltern Firehouse, which is where Emma Stone celebrated her best actress BAFTA win with All Of Us Strangers stars Andrew Scott and Paul Mescal. There was also Charles Finch’s exclusive annual dinner, in partnership with Chanel at 5 Hertford Street; the NoMad hotel, which hosted Universal; Focus, and Searchlight held a party of their own at Soho House on Greek Street, and just around the corner was another Soho House outpost - Kettner’s, which hosted Warner Bros. As I wasn’t invited to any, I kept my step count low and went next door to The Queen Elizabeth Hall. 

There was disco balls, there was life-size crocodiles for reasons unbeknownst to me, there was male models serving boozy drinks, there was — crucially — a beauty pop-up station courtesy of Lancôme and GHD. We preened, we partied, we had yet more photographs and when it was all over at 2am, I took one final waltz down the red carpet and couldn’t help but miss the boisterous energy of earlier. And that, as we say in the biz, is a wrap!